Once again, Decoder Ring Theater presents another page from the casebook of that Master of Mystery,

that's Sultan of Sleothing, Martin Bracknell's immortal detective, Black Jack Justice,

starring Christopher Mott as Jack and Andrea Lyons as Trixie Dixon Girl Detective.

They say that if a thing seems too good to be true, it almost certainly is.

That sounds like simple wisdom, my friends, or as my mother used to call it, pessimism.

In the final analysis, life would be so much simpler if we could collectively keep our hands in our pockets and avoid temptation to grasp the brass ring when it is proffered.

But, as is so often the case with these things, one truism falls into practical conflict with

another. In this case, the keen observation that hope springs eternal in the human breast,

"'even if one knows better, or should know better,

"'even if all the signs and augury and entrails and whatever your particular voodoo is

"'scream to high heaven that no good can possibly come of this thing,

"'which is clearly too good to be true, you just can't help yourself.

"'That old demon hope springs eternal,

and you're off to the races yet again. And so it had proved for the girl detective and myself.

I will give you the truth in point form, so that you can get right down to enjoying the consequences.

An unseen client, one James Arnott, from a little town about two hours drive outside the city,

had wired us a week in advance, plus a generous allowance for expenses to come out,

and make some subtle inquiries on his behalf in advance of writing his will.

Not an unusual request, and nothing we couldn't handle,

and the prospect of a week's pay for what was almost certainly a couple of days' work sprang eternal, and we bundled ourselves and King, the crime-fighting dog deluxe,

into the girl detective's car, which had a better heater, and set off for the snowy hinterlands

and the hotel where James Arnott had reserved us a pair of rooms that were, by request, nowhere near

...