Stanley the Stoat was called down to the beach to meet with Mr. Seagull, an official who managed the area. They met on the outskirts of the beach, where it was bright and sunny.
                “You must be Mr. Seagull,” Stanley said to the bird before him, who was roughly the same size, and shook his hand.
                 “Yes,” he answered, “and from your badge, I take it you are the detective.”
                 “My name is Stanley, you can call me that.”
                 “Certainly, Stanley.”
                 “What seems to be the problem here?”
                 “It’s the weather on the beach. Lately it’s gotten very bad.”
                 Stanley looked around and up at the sky. He didn’t notice anything peculiar. “There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong.”
                 “Follow me.”
                 With that, the two walked onto the beach. Suddenly the sky went dark and the clouds turned gray. The winds blew fiercely and thunder rumbled. Some light rain came pouring down. 
                 Stanley, with a hand over his head to block the rain, was shocked. “How did all this happen?”
                 “I don’t know,” replied Mr. Seagull. “But what I do know is that now no one wants to come here and none of my lifeguards are willing to be out there in the storm.”
                 “I see.”
                 “The beach should be a place for everyone to enjoy, but now nobody can.”
                 “But what did you request me for? Isn’t this simply a weather problem?”
                 “You were just with me outside the beach. There everything is fine as it should be, it’s only here that’s affected.”
                 “So you think that someone is doing something to this beach specifically?”
                 “That is correct. There’s no other explanation I can come up with.”

                 Stanley decided that his first course of action would be to see if there were any scientific explanation for what was happening. He visited his meteorologist friend Dr. Mink. To his surprise, she was already familiar with the beach’s situation.
                 “I have actually done some research on that area,” she told him. “It’s very strange indeed.”
                 “What have your findings been?” he asked.
                 “Its weather is inconsistent with not only the immediate surroundings, but also the data for all other beaches in similar climate circumstances.”
                 “So then this weather, can you account for it in any way?”
                 “No, I really can’t. It’s unnatural, possibly even man-made.”“So then this weather, can you account for it in any way?”
                 “No, I really can’t. It’s unnatural, possibly even man-made.”
                 Stanley was quiet, unsure of what to make of that.
                 “I wish I had more of an explanation for this weather,” she continued, “but that’s all I can tell you at the moment.”
                 “Thank you, doctor,” he said, preparing to leave. “I’ll let you know if there’s anything else I need help with.”
                 “Sure. Come in anytime.”

                 With what he now knew, he returned to Mr. Seagull with his report.
                 “I knew it!” Mr. Seagull remarked.
                 “Knew what?” asked Stanley.
                 “Well, that this isn’t supposed to be happening. That it’s me whose beach is being singled out.”
                 “Do you have any enemies? Anyone who you suspect could be responsible for this?”
                 “I really don’t know how they would be able to do it.”
                 “Let’s not worry right now about just how it’s being done; who is it that you think could be behind this?”
                 Mr. Seagull thought for a minute. “They aren’t my enemy or anything, but there is this husband and wife who live along the beach.”
                 “And why do you think they would be the cause of this?”
                 “For as long as I’ve known them, they’ve lived in a small house. But about the same time as the stormy weather started, I noticed that they now live in a mansion. I don’t know what one has to do with the other, but that’s the best I can come up with.”
                 “All the same, I’ll check it out. In my experience, sometimes these things are more than coincidences.”

                 Braving the beach’s weather, Stanley made to the mansion where the couple, Mr. and Mrs. Fisherman, lived. The building was huge, six stories high. He knocked on the door and the husband answered, noticing Stanley’s badge.
                 “Why, hello there detective,” the middle aged man greeted. “What seems to be the problem?”
                 “Hello, I’m Stanley,” he replied. “I need to talk to you and your wife about something regarding the beach.”
                 “Sure.” He then noticed that Stanley was wet. “Come on inside.”
                 Stanley went inside, following Mr. Fisherman to the living room. Just then Mrs. Fisherman came in. She was also middle aged but was wearing make up to look younger.