A guard then informed me that the woman I was pursuing had left in a vehicle flying a golden-lion flag. I escaped with both my health and the certain conviction that I was indeed on the right track.Īfter recovering from a bout of jangled nerves (guns, especially when fired in my direction, have that effect upon me), I visited the palace. Immediately upon landing in Rome, I was the victim of a vicious attack by a thug with a pistol. Denied a warrant, I continued on to the airport. To my disappointment, I was informed that two people fit the description I had so far: Carmen Sandiego and Lady Agatha. That might be enough evidence to get me an arrest warrant. I already knew the suspect was female, drove a convertible and liked tennis. Ah, hah! Rome!īefore getting back to the airport, I found a phone booth and dialed up my crime computer. Further, Italy's government was a republic with a president. Flipping through my Detective's Almanac, I quickly determined that the Etruscans had come from Italy. A mousey woman informed me that the suspect, carrying a tennis racket, had checked out books on the Etruscans. I made notes and moved on to the library. She had said something about bringing a message to the president. My first stop was the embassy, where I was informed by the ambassador that he had seen the suspect leave in a convertible.
As soon as I touched down at Moroni Airport, I made my way into the city to question the witnesses. Shoving the pizza off my desk and onto the floor, I located my phone and called Transoceanic Airways, making a reservation on the first flight to Comoros.Įven though Africa was stiflingly hot, I didn't waste time. This was my chance for the big time! Nailing one of Carmen Sandiego's people would make me front-page news. According to the message, a female suspect had been seen in Moroni, Comoros, in possession of a sultan's stolen perfume bottle. I leaped from my chair, spilling hot chocolate on the latest issue of Detective's Monthly, and grasped the printed sheet that was even now ejecting from the printer. From the casebook of Clay "Red Eye" Walnum, Private Investigator:Īt 5:00 a.m., Friday morning, July 29, I sat in my dingy office, laying waste to a breakfast of cold pepperoni pizza and hot chocolate, when my computer's message light flashed.
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