Bright, Powerful

Mr. Brambles, the disgraced architect, entered the sitting room that Detective LeMaude and his assistant, Rocco, had taken over for their interrogations. “You wanted to see me?” he said.

“Ah, Mr. Brambles, thank you for coming back,” said Detective LeMaude. “We were reviewing your alibi, and we just wanted to make sure we had the details correct.”

“Sure,” said Mr. Brambles, taking a seat across from the famous inspector.

“Rocco, would you mind?” Detective LeMaude said.

Rocco moved to the desk and retrieved the appropriate papers. “You said, and I quote, ‘At 11:15 in the evening, when Lord Dunfry was being murdered, I had retreated to a dark corner of the attic, where I sat, charging my phone and reading by the light of a single lamp a letter from Anne-Dianne Mornay, the one responding to my own confession of love with an equal outpouring of affection that had been ruthlessly withheld from me by the evil Postmaster Jerrington, who wanted Anne-Diane’s attention all to himself.’”

Mr. Brambles looked from the assistant to the detective. “Is there some issue with my testimony?”

“We are just giving you time to correct any inconsistencies,” Detective LeMaude said.

“I don’t see any to correct,” Mr. Brambles said, growing red. “What is the meaning of this? Do you seek to embarrass me anew by reciting my great failure of love back to me?”

“No, no, Mr. Brambles,” said Detective LeMaude, standing and pacing the room. “You see, it is not the letter’s contents that concern us. Rather, it is that you were able to read it at all. For, when we inspected the corner of the attic where you claim to have sat, we found just one working outlet. So please, explain how you were able to charge your phone and use the lamp at the same time.”

“I plugged it into the back of the lamp,” Mr. Brambles said without hesitation.

“Ah, so you want me to believe that, upon this lamp, there is a magical port–”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Mr. Brambles said. “This is really not a new concept at all. Things like this are in every hotel room. It was a little lamp–a good, adjustable little lamp, I should say, with several levels of brightness–that had a power port on it.”

“So, it’s like a little secret passage?” Rocco said, perplexed. “For the power to sneak through the lamp and get to your phone?”

“No!” Mr. Brambles stood up and stamped his foot. “It’s not even remotely like a secret passage! And I should know! After all, I used one to sneak from the attic to Lord Dunfry’s study at 11:15 to–ah shit, I just confessed, didn’t I?”

After the police had taken him away, Detective LeMaude said, “Can you believe it, Rocco?”

“That he gave himself up so easily?” Rocco offered. “Truly amazing work by you, as always, sir!”

“No, I meant about the lamp that charges a phone,” Detective LeMaude said. “I really gotta get me one of those!”