Friday 3rd June, 1927
'Careful what you wish for, lest it come true' is my new motto, and here is why. I was summoned to Dunfermline, that old grey town, in the matter of a missing heiress.
She had flounced off in a sulk over forbidden love and I, suspecting elopement, was loath to take the job of scouring guesthouses to find the little madam and her paramour.
Before I could wriggle out of it, though, there was a murder in the mix - or was it suicide? I had hardly begun to decide when it happened again. Then I was sacked. Actually sacked! By two separate people, and both dismissals in writing. And that's not even the worst of it, darling: matters here are careering downwards much in the style of a runaway train.
Please hurry - or who knows where it might end,