"Can you believe?" she asked Gramsci, gobsmacked. "Someone stole my spade!"
"It happens," Gramsci shrugged, sending a Mexican wave through his eight shoulders. "Even if crime firgures are rather contested."
The Cow snorted. "That's not the point!" She roled her eyes. "The spade was standing outside in the garden. Next to an inflatable dinghy and a couple of paddleskis. Why take the spade? The vleicraft would have been much more fun!"
"Perhaps a spade was more useful to them?" asked Gramsci. "Perhaps they saw it standing there, unused, while they had a pressing need for a spade?"
"Yes, but!" the Cow huffed impatiently. "That suggests that the criminal mind is motivated by noble imperatives, like labour and cultivation, rather than by greed and deviousness. That can't possibly be. It might lead one to think that crime in this country is sometimes the last resort of desperate unemployed people with dependents to feed and clothe, rather than the easy option of williewerkies who want the trappings of affluence without any effort. And then the economy of Perth would collapse!"
Gramsci chuckled. "Well," he suggested, "perhaps he just had a body he needed to dispose of in a hurry?"