The Case of the Electric Mayhem

I take my detective status very seriously. I’ve studied the greats—Sherlock, Columbo, Gadget—and as a result, my powers of observation are sharper than nine-year-old cheddar.

My keen powers were put to the test after I walked out my door and tripped on the bright orange cord lying on my porch.

As I regained my composure, I noticed something wasn’t right.

My senses were tingling more than that time I accidentally mistook a Taser gun for my electric razor. The reason: My mailbox was conspicuously leaning farther to the left than a vegan philosophy professor.

I opened the mailbox and pulled out a large manila envelope, which I promptly dropped due to its incredible weight. The mailbox sprung back with an audible “twang,” while I recovered the package with an audible “grunt.”

I hauled it to my porch, sawed it open with my pocket knife and found a 132-page power bill totaling $1,516!

Impossible! I did accidentally turn my AC down to 14 that one weekend, but that wouldn’t be enough. Without thinking, I tripped over the orange cord again—an extension cord that went from my front exterior socket to my neighbor Bernie’s house, where it fed a power strip jacked with five additional extension cords, four of which went into his house, and the last into his garage.

Bernie’s a smart man, I thought to myself. Maybe he can help me.

“Hey Bernie,” I said, following the orange cord to his garage. “I wonder if…hey, new car! Is that an all-electric 2013 Tesla S85?”

Suddenly a light bulb appeared over my head—a 416 horsepower, metallic-blue light bulb with an optional, all-glass panoramic sunroof. Bernie fell to his knees.

“I’m sorry Ace! I had to steal your electricity…I’m in insurance trouble!”

“Spill it.”

“When I bought this beauty, 10 days ago, I called my insurer to replace the auto. The underwriter of my 2005 ISO PAP said they could not cover it because it was on the company’s prohibited vehicle list in the underwriting manual. Then he told me they’d insure it for 14 days only. So I’ve been driving it like crazy while I’m covered…which required a lot of power-ups.”

“But why am I powering your entire house?”

“Because my new policy is going to be bonkers expensive, so I’m trying to save as much money as I can!”

“Bonkers describes not only you, Bernie,” I said, “but also your insurer.”

How would Ace win this power struggle?

Jonathan Hermann is an IA contributing editor.