The Case of the Blurred Lines

The screams. The madness. The mayhem. The scene unfolding in my brother’s backyard looked like an all-out prison riot, or worse, the crowd at a British soccer match.

I quickly checked my surroundings to makes sure I was in the right place. Folding table loaded with presents. Ear-piercing screams. Inflatable bouncy castle. The ground strewn with pink feather boas and plastic tiaras. Unconcerned parents gathered around the open bar. Yep, I was at the right place: my niece’s fifth birthday party. And I was wearing the right outfit: a clown suit. And let me tell you, the big floppy shoes and red nylon wig was making me sweat.

So before my niece and her sugar-rushing friends spied me, I ducked into the house to grab a glass of water.

Inside I found a well-dressed mother standing over her pig-tailed daughter coloring a “Little Mermaid” picture on the kitchen table. But this Disney-esque setting quickly turned into a Tarantino fight scene as the woman grabbed the lass’ Caribbean green Crayola from her wee little hand and screamed, “You have to stay within the lines! It could cost you hundreds of thousands of dollars if you don’t because your insurance doesn’t cover it!”

“Whoa, whoa,” I said, cautiously approaching the table like a hostage negotiator. “If you’re having an insurance-related conniption fit, take it out on me, not the little girl.”

“What do you know, clown?”

“I’m Ace Insura, claims detective. I only dressed like a clown because I heard there might be cannibals here?”

“How does that help?” she asked, her eyebrows quizzically bent.

“Because cannibals don’t eat clowns—we taste funny. Now spill it.”

“I’m in the insurance game too,” she began, handing the crayon back to her tearful daughter, “and my client is a general contractor working on a new gated community where the buildings are constructed close together, right on the property lines.”

“So what went wrong?”

“All heck broke lose when a luxury patio home was built across the property line and onto his neighbor’s property. The general contractor’s CGL insurer denied coverage, as did the framing subcontractor’s CGL insurer. So what I want to know is, why didn’t the CGL cover this? If the zoning office doesn’t approve changing the property line, my client will have to tear down the house and rebuild it!”

“Well lady,” I said, adjusting my bright red wig, “It was no accident why coverage was denied.”

How can Ace be so sure?

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.