“You don’t think these could be connected, do you Schlock?”
I shook my head, considering the crushed air conditioning unit in front of us. “I think it’s too early to draw conclusions. However, yes, I do believe these are definitely connected. No doubt about it. The Glass Smashing Bandit disappears for a few days, just when we’re hot on his trail, only for a serial air conditioning destroyer to appear? We either have a copycat, or the Glass Smashing Bandit got sick of smashing glass.”
Whatson had a wide look to his eyes, the shock of it sinking in. “Who would want to wage war on air conditioning in the Armadale area? That’s just criminal.”
“Well, I think that’s the point, my good friend. You’re thinking like a detective when you have to think like a criminal. You follow me?”
With a brief nod Whatson said, “Yes, I understand, most wise and honourable Schlock Homes.”
We’d received the call an hour earlier, assuming this was just a random act of vandalism. But over the next thirty minutes, another three calls had come in detailing the exact same series of events. Somebody coming around disguised as a professional offering air conditioning maintenance, Hampton or other Melbourne residents taking his word on it, a crash when they were looking away, a broken air conditioner. Some in worse condition than others, but all destroyed beyond repair. Just like all of the glass we’d seen at the various shopping centres.
The Glass/Aircon Smashing Bandit strikes again and again. He’s never captured on CCTV. That’s why we’re having such a hard time tracking him down. It’s getting quite frustrating because the people of this city are counting on us. If the great duo Schlock Homes and Jon Whatson can’t catch this criminal, who can? Nobody, because we’re the best detectives in Melbourne. No, the best detectives in Australia.
“Whatson, post on all our social media platforms. If anybody has a random air conditioning maintenance technician arrive at their house, they need to contact us immediately.”
We had work to do.