Thursday, May 01, 2008

I want you to find a body!

Happy Friday! The mystery continues...

Chapter Five: Fugu About It.

Sean O'Hallahan sat down at his desk, pushed aside the large stack of files on unresolved murder cases he'd been assigned, and opened the toxicology report on Doctor Qwacken.

Qwacken was murdered. He'd known that the first time he'd seen Qwacken's lifeless body up to his neck in a toilet in the stall of the Men's Room at Sushiworld. Accidental death was improbable and suicide extremely unlikely. Doctors never committed suicide by cranial toilet immersion. Attorneys; maybe. But doctor's; never.

The toxicology report told him what he'd suspected: there were lethal levels of Fugu in Qwacken's blood. So much so that O'Hallahan was surprised the doctor had been able to make it as far as the bathroom. The blowfish was the fatal blow.

So it was simply a matter of who killed the doctor. And why. Okay, maybe it wasn't that simple.O'Hallahan had ruled out the wife almost immediately. Qwacken's life insurance was minimal which immediately eliminated that as a motive for her to have killed the doctor. She was better off with him alive.

He supposed there could have been another motive for her to off Qwacken but that would've probably been something like an affair with his receptionist or with that young, strapping Hispanic boy that worked at the car wash on Elm who always wore a shimmel shirt and a blue bandanna and who got so very wet and sweaty when he was washing your Taurus, with the water and sweat running down his thighs in little silver beadlets...

O'Hallahan realized he'd let his mind wander. Focus man. Focus.

No, it couldn't have been the wife. If she had killed Qwacken it would've been a crime of passion. This was a crime of blowfish. It had been meticulously planned. In O'Hallahan's experience when a woman wanted to kill her husband she either did it quickly with a gun or slowly through alimony.

Then there was the cat. What was it's name? Snowhell. It was the thread running through this whole thing he was sure of it. There was just too much coincidence between the death of Charisma Ponderosa and the man who bought her stupid show-cat. Ponderosa's husband had said her sister Eunice had wanted the cat for some time.

It was time to pay a visit to Eunice Ponderosa.

Chapter One: Charisma Hits the Dance Floor.
Chapter Two: Death Punches Back on the Clock.
Chapter Three: Usually it's the Usual Suspects.
Chapter Four: Death by Wasabi.


Randal Graves said...

quickly with a gun or slowly through alimony.


Dean Wormer said...

Glad you like it. :)

Don Snabulus said...

That Darn Cat!

The game is afoot, Watson...I mean O'Hallahan.

Swinebread said...

"Doctors never committed suicide by cranial toilet immersion."

That's my new mantra!

Dean Wormer said...


I think that's a quote from Data on Star Trek, right?


It's true!

Freida Bee said...

Oh, somehow I had missed this one. Randal already pointed out my favorite zinger. Funny.

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