MSF Visitation

Stan was dozing in his favorite armchair, (that lime green one Myrtal had alway hated,) when the phone rang. people had no right to be calling Stan at this hour, what hour was it? Oh dear, only 2 pm. he humphed and harumphed and let his glasses drop down to the bridge of his rather bulbous nose. He picked up the phone, "Hello?"
"Listen, I've lost a box and it had some rather important materials in it. I need your help to get it back."
"Hello?"
"I think you heard me, look, it's a very rotten way to start off a working relationship, pretending you can't hear you partner. Now, where was I, ah yes, If you could meet me at the back of, Bag of Bones Books and Bargains, we can get started."
Stan pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. He raised his eyebrows. "I think you have the wrong number."
"Is this Stan Mcgumphy, 72 year old retired plumber who's wife recently died and ever since that happened the days seem grayer and you nap a lot more and find yourself not caring if the vikings win the game?"
"Who is this, how do you know all that?"
"Why my word in heaven, I do believe I have failed to introduce myself, what atrocious manners. My name was Menchkin, but that was before the box was stolen, I haven't decided what I should be called now that we are detectives."
"I'm not a detective," Stan told him. He was standing up and looking for his slippers as if the phone call would make sense if he just knew where they were.
"Well, no, I mean technically speaking not yet, you're not on the case yet, and I don't mean to seem rude, but, have I already said are very important materials in the box?"
"You did mention it."
"Well then I think the quicker we get on the case the better, don't you."
"I'm not on any cases."
"Oh dear me, I really don't have the time to go in circles with you on this. Tell you what, I'm going to hang up the phone and get our, what do they say, our case files in order, see you when you get here."
The line went dead.