Free 3 The Case of Tiffany's Epiphany by Jim Stevens Page A

screams. “I’m standing in someone’s blood?”
    “Afraid so, Tiffany.”
    “In my eight-hundred dollar Steve Maddens!? Oh my God!”
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    The cheapest cell phones, with the cheapest cell phone plans in the entire Chicagoland area, are found at More4LesMobile. The store, which used to be the Meaner Wiener hot dog stand, and could still be a hot dog stand since More4LesMobile did absolutely no remodeling before setting up shop, is located way west on Belmont Avenue. The More4Les Mobile name implies that you will save big money on your communication needs, but it’s more a play on words. The guy who owns the place is named Lester, so every purchase will mean “more for Les." He must be raking it in because every time I drop by, he brags about driving a bigger and fancier car than the one he owned before.
    “Richard Sherlock, how are ya?” Les is behind the counter where hot dogs used to lie wrapped around the greasiest fries in town.
    “My phone broke, Les.”
    “Was it under warranty?” Les asks, eyeing Tiffany.
    “I didn’t know your phones have warranties,” I mention to the owner.
    “I got guarantees, warranties, protection plans. The whole nine yards. You want it Sherlock, I’ll sell it to you.”
    “Do you have any iPhones?” Tiffany asks.
    “Let me see,” Les turns around and peers up at what used to be the Meaner Wiener’s menu board. According to it, you could chow down on such cholesterol –laden delicacies as the Big Bad Brat, the Devil Dog, and the Ferocious Frank. In their place now are easily removable listings of the phones currently in stock. “No iPhones,” he says. “But I did just get a shipment of top of the line ZLE Smartphones.”
    “What’s a ZLE?” Tiffany, my phone consultant asks.
    “Only the hottest phone to come out of China since they put up the Great Wall.”
    “Literally, the hottest?” I ask.
    “Bad choice of terms,” Les says as he reaches behind the counter, where the food orders used to come up, grabs a phone, and hands it to Tiffany.
    “What’s this?” Tiffany asks, pointing out a blotch on the screen of the phone.
    Lester takes the phone back, scratches the gunk off, and explains, “Relish.” He hands it back to her. “This phone’s got it all, talking, texting, twittering, it’ll even make ice cream cones on a hot day.”
    “Do you have any Samsungs?” Tiffany asks.
    “Tiffany,” I interrupt. “I don’t need a music service on the phone.”
    Tiffany looks at me as if I had one of Jack Wayt’s diseases.
    “Sammys? No, I don’t have any right now,” Les tells Tiffany. “But I could order one from my supplier and have it here by tomorrow.”
    “Let me see what else you got,” Tiffany tells him.
    Les goes back into the kitchen area and returns holding a greasy wire basket filled with loose cell phones. He dumps them on the counter in front of us as if they were sizzling French fries.
    “Do all of these come with a set of directions?” I ask.
    “No.”
    Tiffany uses her nail file to pick around the phones so she won’t get her nails chipped. “This is all you got?” she asks Les.
    “Today.”
    “These are like TV’s without HD,” she says of the array of choices.
    “Tell me what kind you want,” Les tells her. “And I can special order it.”
    “Are they all used?” Tiffany asks.
    “Usually, in more ways than one,” Les explains.
    Tiffany finally chooses one that has a very tiny keyboard that slides out of the side of the phone; the logical progression from my prior flip phone. Les puts in my old number, and gives me a plug-in charger. I write him a check for seventy bucks and ask him not to cash it for a few days. A new phone, a free charger, and no interest until my check clears. Am I a great shopper or what?
    As we’re leaving More4LesMobile, Tiffany says, “Ya know, Mr. Sherlock, technology hasn’t just passed you by, it’s lapped you.”
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    Monroe Chevelier has an office with a television, a wet bar, a 36-inch