William Brag, shuffled his scrawny frame up to the start line of the marathon. From afar his jet black hair was lost in the sea of hundreds of other runners. But he was only racing the clock. As the current holder of the world record marathon time in the 60 years and over category, he had a reputation to uphold.
The starting pistol fired and the racers were off. Will hit his stride early and locked into his trademark floating gait. This was easy running. As the miles ticked up he did not slow, pausing only briefly to snatch a roadside water bottle or wipe off his brow.
He crossed the finish line breathing hard, but almost looking fresher than when he started. The crowd erupted. He had shaved another minute off his time and smashed the world record yet again.
The race organizer, Michael Pacer, lowered his binoculars and sighed. “He did it. He actually did it. I was sure he was cheating with those impossible times.”
“I had agents on him at every corner” interrupted the inspector “there’s no way he could have taken a shortcut without being spotted”
“And that means the prize money is all his!” said Mike dejectedly as he waddled out of the room carrying a novelty cheque that was quite frankly too large.
The race organizer ushered the aged runner up onto the stage. The moment he raised the cheque a man from the crowd rushed up beside them. It was Detective Case.
“Stop! This man is a fraud!” cried Case “He didn’t break the world record at all!”
Case smoothly slipped a pair of handcuffs over William’s hands.
“You won’t be doing much running in a 6 by 8 cell.” he quipped.
How did Detective Case know?