The Case of the Kiddie Car Theft

The engines revved, my knuckles whitened, my 12-year-old niece laughed. Usually I enjoyed the sound of my niece’s laughter, which tickled your ear like funny flies. But not this time. This time she was laughing at me.

Apparently my Day-Glo orange kneepads and aerodynamic helmet amused her to no end, but I refused to race her on these go-kart contraptions without them, even though she assured me that Danger Dave’s Go-Kart Killadrome was the safest track in the tri-county area.

Strapped in and lined up next to my niece, a boy in his mid-teens and a man who looked vaguely familiar, I sat in the go-kart like an accordion shoved into a harmonica case, with my knees buckled straight up, blocking my eyesight.

The light flashed red, yellow, then green, and I pressed the accelerator and shot forward like a bat out of Helsinki. Within two seconds I lost all control. My life flashed before my eyes, and I prayed to every god I could think of, from Allah to Zeus, hoping one of them wasn’t too busy to help a poor schmo like me.

Only when I opened my eyes once again did I realize that I ran into the hay bails on the first turn. Within seconds the others roared past on their second lap, and again I heard my niece’s laughter cut through me, followed the other adult racing by, saying, “Nice one, Ace.”

How did he know me?

I pushed my machine off the hay bail and pressed the gas pedal in one-millimeter increments until my go-kart achieved a snails-pace I was comfortable with. An hour later I reached the finish line, where the other three contestants where waiting, including the adult, who turned out to be Chuck, an old insurance buddy of mine.

“Ace, you’re a regular Speed Racer!” Chuck said.

“Chuck. If I wanted a laugh, I would have asked your wife about your honeymoon. Who’s the kid?” I asked as I pulled my legs out ofthe contraption one by one.

“This troublemaker? He’s my insured’s 16-year-old son. Last year he had an at-fault wreck, and today the adjuster finally said it would deny the BI claim because the kid admitted to using the car without
his parents’ permission. Can they deny the claim because of this?”

I took off my helmet and said, “Chuck, he doesn’t look like a car thief to me.”

For help solving this mystery and to check your solution against Ace’s, click here.

Jonathan Hermann (hermannism@gmail.com) is an IA contributing editor.