(CONT’D) “Okay, we accept the case. As for our fee…”
“Money won’t be a problem. You get the lettuce to disappear from our lives. Meanwhile, consider yourself at home. As you can see, I’ve ordered doors and windows closed, so that the lettuce can not leave this house. Thus you’ll find it easier to catch it. I now retire. Gentlemen, I wish you good luck.”
When they are left alone, Michael asks Jacob for an opinion.
“It’s not an opinion, Michael, it’s a fact! This guy is nut! Absolutely nut!”
“I have the same opinion. But he’s a good customer also. Let’s just try to find a lettuce somewhere in this house.”
“What if it’s not the culprit?”
“Jacob, we just need a scapegoat!”
“A scapegoat lettuce?”
“Now let’s get in the kitchen, have a look.”
Shortly after, the two consultants break into the kitchen, where a cook is preparing dinner. They discover seven lettuces stacked in a corner.
“Aha! Looks like it’s a full gang!” says Jacob.
“Pick one!”
“Which of them seem suspicious to you?”
“Come on, pick whatever!”
The cook turns suddenly pointing a long kitchen knife at them. “What the hell are you talking about?!”
“We are detectives in the service of Mr. Southborn,” Michael is quick to explain. “We need a lettuce.”
“For what?”
Michael indicates the pile of lettuces: “Where were them yesterday afternoon when Miss Vanderbilt was attacked at the park?”
The cook gets upset: “In the orchard! My lettuces are fresh! My brother-in-law have brought them this morning.”
“So none of them has an alibi…”
“My lettuces are innocent!! My brother-in-law cultivates them personally! They come from a select orchard on the Upper East Side! They don’t chase rich heiresses at Central Park!”
Suddenly, the shrill scream of a woman resounds. Michael and Jacob run out of the kitchen and burst into the room from which the screams come. Mr. Southborn just came running: “What’s the matter, my dear?”
“A lettuce has tried to rape me!”
“Where has it fled?” Michael asks. The woman points to a side door and the two friends rush through it. After crossing several rooms, they flow back into the kitchen. Michael counts the lettuces and discovers that there is now one more. “Okay, which one is it?” he asks the cook. “Don’t cover it up!”
The cook reluctantly accepts to point a lettuce out. Jacob hurries to put it in a burlap sack. “What will happen to it?” the cook asks.
“It’ll have a fair trial”
“Just a waste of a good lettuce. When it gets out of jail, it’ll be spoiled. No good salad will come out of it.”

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