In 'The Case of the Missing Fibula', Dawn Debris is hired to replace a possibly-radiation-poisoned leg bone of a high society fashionette who only wants to fit in with the new craze of skeletal transplants that's sweeping the nation. A store detective, a street musician, a tedious pundit and a suspicious beautician are all involved as market forces compete in a world where beauty is no longer skin deep.
Excerpt:
Dawn Debris, Yeah, that's my name, my working name, that is. You can look it up, in the yellow pages, under 'things - lost and found'. No, I replace them, I don't lose 'em. And I guarantee my work. If you aren't completely satisfied, I'll refund my fee. And **** you too, I say. But anyway, these here are my memoirs Dawn Debris most fabulous cases, recorded for posterity, and anybody else that's inarested.
> note: in order to safeguard her constitutional right to privacy, and to protect her anonymity, Miss Janet Monroe, of northwest Fortieth street, will hereafter be referred to solely as defendant X, in all matters pertaining to the investigation of this case. The testimony of three witnesses has also been included in this report for further reference, in case it should be needed.
I didn't do it, I swear, I didn't have anything to do with it. I’m entirely innocent. If anybody hears about all this, it will ruin my career. You don't have any evidence, no evidence at all, because there isn't any evidence, I'm innocent. I didn't do anything wrong. I was only shopping.
> Miss X, the detective on the scene, the store detective, mister Frick, has testified that he saw you do it, that he saw you put it in your coat, and proceed to head straight toward the door.
He's wrong. It's obvious, of course, how could he see me do it when I didn't have anything, I didn't have anything on me. I wasn't even shopping, really, not for anything in particular. I was only browsing. Isn't that allowed? I am not a thief, Mr. Mole. I must insist you let me go.
> Not yet, Miss X. I'm sorry but I have to ask you some further questions.
But I've told you everything. I’ve told you all I know. I’m innocent. I didn't do a thing.
> Miss X, if you please... What did you do with the fibula?
> What's a fibula? I swear I don't know what that is. I’ve never even heard that word before.
Come on, Miss X, everybody knows what a fibula is.
Maybe they do, but what do I know? Is it so important to know the name of every bone in the human body? Since when? When I was growing up, no one seemed to care about all that.
