His name might have come out of Italy

We’ve got this far and the client hasn’t even introduced themselves yet! After this happens, the narrator continues their observing and judging, but now it’s the client and the detective. Classic investigative behaviour, always looking beyond what is being said.

“Do come in, Mr…” my brother began.

“Naples,” the dwarf, who already was in, said. His name might have come out of Italy, but he spoke with a South American accent. “Johnny Naples. You are Tim Diamond?”

“That’s me,” my brother lied. His real name was Herbert Timothy Simple, but he called himself Tim Diamond. He thought it suited his image.

So much judging!

  • Naples’ name and accent don’t match. Very suspicious.
  • Clearly, if ‘who was already in’ and ‘He thought it suited his image’ are anything to go by, our narrator doesn’t think his detective brother is too bright.

You can always judge yourself. One of the examples below shows how you could do this.

Can you see the same pattern in these examples?

“Would you like something to drink, Ms…” I started.

“Jane. Jane Doe,” the woman blurted. She tried to sound older, but her fidgeting hands looked like they belonged to a teenager. “I don’t really want to take off the mask, so no drink, thank you. You’re Felicity Candle? The detective?”

“That would be me,” my co-worker said, suddenly entering the room. Fliss said she loved a big arrival, but I secretly thought it was to avoid the usual crackpots our agency got, though ‘Jane’ seemed to have these qualities in droves.

“Oh, hello, Mr…” I stammered.

“D’Angelo,”  the man puffed. He sounded wheezy and breathless, like he’d walked up a flight of stairs. “But you can call me Mr D’Angelo. You’re Tip Swiffly?” 

“I am Mr Swiffly,” I said. Of course my voice jumped two octaves mid-sentence. Ugh, puberty. So unprofessional.

Write your own variation.