"Look, can we leave my belongings alone, please? They've nothing to do with your case."

Nellie looked absent as she thumbed through a stack of Kendrick's discarded school assignments from years ago. "I can't know that until I've checked them all."

"Don't give me that nonsense. There are some things that can be known without checking every detail."

"Such as?"

"Such as the laws of physics. Did you sit down and spend twenty years working out the theory of relativity before you would believe in it?"

"Yes."

"You did not."

"True, which is why I don't believe in it."

Kendrick sighed. "What's the matter with you? Quit rifling through my papers."

It was no use. Nellie had found something of interest to her, it seemed, as she was now closely examining a dog-eared notebook rescued from beneath Kendrick's titanic mass of discarded documents.

"Look here. 'On the Spectrum of Light and Crystal Diffraction.' You wrote this paper in Grade 9," Nellie said, pointing her finger accusingly at Kendrick and then at the notebook. "I'm confiscating this as evidence."

"What? Evidence? Why. . .?"

"Don't speak in one-word sentences. And you know why. I'm here on a case and you're my primary suspect."

Ever since Nellie had taken it upon herself to be the neighborhood's amateur sleuth, nothing Kendrick could say or do would keep her from poking her head into every stack of rubbish she could find, looking for clues to God knew what, working on cases assigned by God knew who, and only God knew why. The one thing he could count on for sure was that he was always the primary suspect.

"The reason I am your primary suspect is that I am the easiest target for your 'investigations.' " Kendrick glared and then forcibly wrenched his ancient notebook from the clutches of his adversary.

"You dare impugn my impartiality as official investigator for the prosecution?"

"I ask you: Is there anyone assigned to the defense?"

"Yes. You. And so far your denials ring hollow. Hand that over before I issue myself a court order to seize all your belongings as accessories after the fact."

"An inanimate object can't be charged as an accessory in a crime, and anyway, you haven't even told me what supposed crime you're investigating."

"You know perfectly well," Nellie thundered, "since you're the one who committed it! Now, are you going to hand over that notebook, or am I going to arrest you for aiding and abetting a criminal activity?"

"Now I'm an accomplice to myself? Do you even understand how the law functions?"

Nellie was obviously sizing up her opponent. Kendrick expected her next move would be to knock him to the ground and take the notebook by force. Instead she opted for a lightning fast tearing motion which left him holding an empty binder, while she took ownership of all the actual pages.

"I understand the law and its implications much better than you, Kendrick, or you wouldn't be gallivanting around, thieving and pillaging, beholden to no one."

"Judging by your actions in my room here so far, I'd say that description more accurately fits yourself."

Nellie glared. "That's fine, make your jokes. I'll have the last laugh when I've proven you're the culprit, and don't think that I'll visit you in jail even once. The closest you'll get to me is when you're sitting at the appeals table watching me convince the judge to throw away the key."

"What exactly do you think I've done that will end up with me being locked away until the end of time? What about my rights as a suspect?"

"You have the right to remain silent. Now use it."

Kendrick sighed and sat down on his bed, resigned to allowing Nellie to sift through his old school projects until her hands turned gray and fell off.

Within five minutes she had emptied out his dresser drawers and was pawing through his clean underwear, and it was too much. "Look here, you, quit that! The floor is dusty! Are you going to wash all those again?"

"Maybe you'll be lucky and your penal servitude will involve laundry duty. You can wash them yourself, from behind bars."

"Good Lord, this is intolerable. Nellie. . . Nellie! Look at me when I'm shouting at you. Tell me directly what's going on or I'll. . . umm." Kendrick thought for a moment. "I'll tell my mother not to make you any more gingerbread."

A look of horror flashed across Nellie's face. She quickly regained neutrality, but Kendrick's heart sang in triumph at this brief victory.

"There's no need to be hasty," Nellie told him. "I'm through here. For now. But don't plan on taking any extended vacations until after I've contacted you again." Her smug superiority returned. "The legal system is on to you, Kendrick Perkins. You've escaped its grasp for the moment, but the long arm of the law knows neither rest nor defeat. Don't sleep too heavily or the next time you wake up it may be in solitary confinement."

"Yes, I've no doubt. Pick up that underwear on your way out. On second thought, no. Don't touch it." Kendrick massaged his forehead, closing the door to his room as Nellie's rear end disappeared through it.

There was a thump and a momentary resistance as said door impacted said rear end, and then Nellie stuck her head back through the opening. "I'm watching you." Then she was gone.

"My God, there's no end to it, is there?" Kendrick said to no one in particular. "And now look, you're talking to yourself again."

He had barely turned around with the intention of walking back to his bed and laying down for a long period of rest, which he always seemed to need after a visit from Nellie, when the door burst back open and sent him sprawling, dusty pages and white jockey shorts swirling in his wake.

"I heard you talking just now! Don't think you can hide your musclebound ruffians from me. Where are they? Come out! Come out!" Nellie stomped around the room, thumping on the walls and bed. "I see. Well hidden, but my detective's instinct cannot be foiled. Don't think you've won."

Then she was gone again with a flourish, before Kendrick had even finished picking himself up from the floor. He was careful this time not to say anything, or even to think too loudly, until five minutes had passed.

Looking at the clock, Kendrick realized it was only just past five in the afternoon. It felt as if he had been awake for days. He lay down to rest and felt the sleep of the dead overtaking him. Idly, he wondered if he would still be a free man when he woke.