The import section of Bakewell Street was a strange place to be. Technically and legally home to all imports into Cake Stand City the majority of the trade was illegal in some manner. That was not to say that everything being imported was an illegal good, but when an import duty was dodged or a cake allowed access to items not authorised for them, a legal good becomes illegal.
Bread knew he and Muffin had been sent here purely to be out of the way. Gache could have let them stay in the office but that was not his way. Bread also knew that Gache wanted his take on Muffin. So far his opinion was not very good.
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Lemon Muffin paced around the office, a bad case of verbal diarrhoea following in her wake. It was clear to Inspector Gache that Lemon Muffin was uneasy about the idea; this was a good thing. Yes he needed to know that Muffin would follow his lead over any others, but it was never wise to get into business with anyone who would screw over old loyalties at a drop of a hat. Still, her constant verbal reasoning with herself was getting a little much and he needed to move this along.
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Inspector Gache sat in his office, watching Constable Bread and Lemon Muffin carry in an extra desk. He ordered that the desks be set up in a triangle shape, so they could all sit and talk and look at each other. As if to answer an unasked question, Gache said,
“The majority of our work, and our time, will be spent in this room. Here we can look at the evidence we have found, state the theories we have concocted and allow our fellows to rebuke or add to them. Here cases will be cracked.”Read More »