Diary of Shopkeeper, 4th September

Inspector Chief Sudoku checked the room carefully, pausing to peer through the blinds at the street outside. Only when he was sure there was no hidden threat did he relax, and recline in the big leather chair in the middle of the floor.

‘So, what brings you here?’ said the main in the white coat.

‘The X1 from Stromness,’ said Sudoku. ‘It’s an excellent service.’

‘Yes, but why are you here?’

‘Why are any of us here? It’s a good question. But one for ministers and philosophers, not someone in my line of work.’

‘And what is your line of work?’ said the man in the white coat.

‘I’m a detective,’ said Sudoku. ‘What about you?’

There was a long silence. The man looked around the room, catching the eye of an anxious but glamorous assistant sitting at a computer in one corner. ‘I’m a dentist,’ he said at last.

Sudoku nodded. ‘That’s lucky. My tooth broke the other day.’

‘I presume that’s why you made an appointment,’ said the dentist.

‘In my line of work,’ said Sudoku, ‘we never presume. We look at the evidence and then select from it to confirm whatever conclusion we want to come to.’

‘Fair enough,’ said the dentist. ‘Open up.’

‘I had very strict parents,’ said Sudoku, ‘which gave me an over-developed fear of authority, and difficulties in expressing emotion. However, after counselling…’

‘Not that kind of opening up,’ said the dentist, authoritatively. ‘Your mouth. Open wide.’

Sudoku did as he was told, and the dentist bent over him.

‘Ah-ha!’ he said after a moment. ‘I can see you’re a heavy coffee drinker.’

‘Because my teeth are stained?’ said Sudoku.

‘No, because you came into the surgery carrying a double espresso. Julie – take his cup and saucer.’

The nurse stepped over, prised Sudoku’s coffee from his hands, and tipped it into the miniature sink beside the chair. She washed it down the plug with a plastic cup of pink liquid.

‘I was going to drink that!’ cried Sudoku.

‘It’s for rinsing and spitting only,’ she said, anxiously, then returned glamorously to her post at the computer.

‘Upper left one, occlusal,’ said the dentist. ‘UL two, MO composite. UL three, missing.’ He poked around with his spatula. ‘Dogger, Fisher, South Utsire, low 967, expected Fair Isle 965 by 0300 tomorrow. Southeast veering southwest 5 or 6. Moderate or good, occasionally poor.’

Julie cleared her throat loudly. ‘You’re doing it again, Mr Gilhooley.’

He looked across at her. ‘Hmmm?’

‘The weather thing,’ she said.

‘No matter,’ he said. ‘The problem is clear. Inspector Chief Sudoku, you have a broken tooth. Upper left 6, Julie: heavy showers, veering west, occasionally 7 later.’

‘I know that,’ snapped Sudoku. ‘And the strange thing is, it fell out while I was eating a boiled egg!’

The dentist gasped. ‘In my entire dental career,’ he said, ‘I’ve never heard of anyone breaking a tooth on a boiled egg. Can I ask…hard or soft?’

‘That’s a rather personal question,’ said Sudoku.

‘I’m talking about the egg,’ said the dentist.

‘The shell was hard, the inside was soft,’ said Sudoku. ‘It was the inside I was eating.’

‘Usually a good approach,’ said Mr Gilhooley. ‘Did you know that, during the war, rationing was such that people became unfamiliar with all sorts of foods previously taken for granted. Youngsters were seen eating whole eggs, shells and all. Not to mention oranges in their peels, bananas in their skins. One case we studied at dental school involved a youth who ate an entire tin of beans – including the tin.’

‘How did that come out?’ said Sudoku.

‘Painfully,’ said the dentist.         

This diary appeared in The Orcadian on 7th September 2022. A new one appears weekly. I post them in this blog a few days after each newspaper appearance, with added illustrations., and occasional small corrections or additions.