((Ring, Ring)) ((Ring, Ring)) “Who is calling me?” I shouted as I turn my head to the clock on my nightstand. It’s 9:38 a.m. and my phone is ringing. I rolled my eyes and wondered why I am being interrupted from my sleep on the first day off in two months.
((Ring, Ring)) “Okay, okay buddy don’t have a cow!” I said. I reached over and grabbed my ugly, red cordless phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey Mindy, get dressed and get your butt down to Jingle Park now!”
“Oh Hermie, don’t get so excited. What happened?”
“My name is Herman – NOT HERMIE! I would appreciate it if you would restrain yourself from calling me that. But I don’t have time to talk, just get down here and I’ll explain it all.”
Well something went down last night, I wonder what it was. I got out of bed and threw on a white shirt and some jeans, grabbed a bagel and my new leather jacket. I hopped into my little black Camero and drove quickly to Jingle Park.
As I arrived, I saw the works (flashing lights, yellow police tape, and all the rest) and then finally my buddy Hermie. I turned off my car and hurried myself over to him because I absolutely hate being in the dark on the scoop.
“You made it.”
“Yes Hermie, I made it.” He gives me a glare and I continue, “What’s going on?”
“Well, there was a murder down by the lakeside. Apparently, the victim, Roger Harrison, got a hatchet embedded into the back of his skull while he was looking out onto the lake. We don’t know much more than that, other than we have four suspects.”
“What do we know about them?”
“Well, there’s his brother, Sam Harrison, who participates in professional archery contests frequently. He is the one on the park bench, with the green shirt and brown slacks. He tells us that he was up at the archery range form about 6:30 a.m. until the police brought him here around 9:00 a.m.”
“Was he up at the Cinder Country Club archery range?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“Well, that isn’t too far from here, what maybe two miles.”
“That’s only the start of it. The best friend of the late Harrison, Fred Colt, was jogging in this very park when Harrison was murdered. He heard the cry of anguish and sprinted over to find his buddy dead. Doesn’t that sound a little fishy to you, Mindy?”
“I need some more information before I decide. Now what was Roger Harrison doing here? Did you ask Fred if they came together or saw each other?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I did ask him that. And Freddie said “no” to both, it was a quick, sharp “no.” We asked Roger’s wife, Lindsay, if she knew why he was here but she hadn’t even noticed that he left the house. She says that she was asleep and the only time that she awoke was when the police came to her to tell her the news. The butler can account for her alibi.”
“What do we know about the butler?”
“There really isn’t that much to say about him. He was tidying the house and did not know that Lindsay was sleeping. He opened the door and saw her there, and then quietly closed the door and continued his cleaning.
“H’m, were there any recent arguments? Or other reasons for the murder?”
“Well, both the brother and the butler had arguments with Roger a day or two before the murder. Sam said that his was about borrowing money from Roger. The butler said that his was also about money, only it was for a raise.”
“Money is increasingly a motive for murder, gosh! What is this world coming to, Herman?”
“Oh, Mindy, and just as you always wish, the suspects were asked about where each worked, except the butler because it was quite obvious. Fred, the best friend, works at a museum. I guess he is an expert on the Cherokee Indians and he gives tours and such. Lindsay, the wife, does not work because she and her husband are so financially well off.”
“Thanks for filling me in, Hermie.” I smile as he rolls his eyes and continue, “I’ve got this case all figured out now.”
