When I woke up on the fateful that day in August, my first thought was, “I need to change my ring tone.” Why? Well, my ring tone was a cow mooing. I know. So, anyway, I picked up my cell phone to end the horrible sound of mooing. “Uhhhhhhh” “Finally you’re awake! It’s only 12:00 PM! Now get up, we have a new case.” It was Reba Greenbach, my annoying, yet awesome, assistant. “Already?!” “Yeah, already. Here’s the case. A twenty-four year old person named AnneMarie Ivory was killed by a wrecking ball at about 6:38 AM.” “A wrecking ball, really. Well OK, who’re the suspects?” “There are four main suspects, and each has their own motives. Now get over here so we can interview them!” “Si, mi amigo, I’ll see you in a minute Reba.” “I hate it when you talk Spanish.” “Good bye Reba. Whoa wait, where is it?” “At Hobbes and Co. on 34th street. Now come on Orange!”“What a nice person,” I thought sarcastically. Well, a new case. Wonderful, we just finished one and we get a new one. At Hobbes and Co. of all places. Man, that place has a bad reputation. One year a man who was working just disappeared after trying to fix the plumbing. And another time, oh, I don’t want to think about it. Twenty minutes later, I in the office of Ms. Zen, the manager. She was maudlin. She was talking to Reba, sobbing out “We, we were like two peas in a pod, two twigs on a tree, like, like, BFF's forever. We, we -” Reba patted her on the back. “We understand, but if you would like us to catch your friend’s killer, we are going to need you to cooperate.” “Alright Reba,” I broke in, “What are the details of the murder?” “Well, it happened at 6:38 AM, killed by a wrecking ball while eating a muffin and drinking coffee.” “Yes, yes,” I said “So, who is our first interviewee?”
The Interviews First up was Bob Garland. He was a bit chubby and from his sentimental countenance, he was sensitive. He had a bright red suit that was a bit too ostentatious for a construction worker. I cleared my throat and asked the first question “So, what were you doing at 6:30 AM” “I was in the Porta – Potty.” I closed my eyes. “Any, uh, any proof of that?” He raised his eyebrows – “Do you REALLY want to know?” “OK, where else were you?” “In the break room, getting grape juice.” “Any proof of that?” “There is a camera showing me drop a jug of grape juice, and there's also the stain on the floor” “Did you know the dead woman well?” I inquired. “Not very well but well enough,” he replied, “Just about everyone here hates her for some reason, I mean, she broke my leg ‘accidentally’. Yeah right. But you know, I try to keep that in oblivion.” “That’s nice,” Reba absentmindedly muttered as she eyed a blueberry muffin. “Well, that’s wonderful information. Do you know if Ms. Ivory said anything as she died?” “Yes, actually. She yelled out Mic. What a weird thing to yell, because my MIDDLE NAME is Mic, Matti CarPeach's Initials are MIC, and McMonkeywhite's last name starts with Mic. So, really the only person without any connection to Mic is Joe Greenland.” Reba’s eyes grew huge. “OK, send Joe Greenland in, he’s eavesdropping on us anyway.” The door opened and in fell Joe Greenland. He was a tall, thin, wiry man with a bright green mohawk that stuck out for miles. He was wearing a orange shirt and ragged, old, blue jeans. In his hand was a yellow hard hat. He looked like an average construction worker, minus the mohawk and green hair. “Hello Mr. Greenland, who are you?” I inquired. “Fine, thank you. A bit nervous about the killing. We didn’t really know each other but we were friends with an old lady.” “OK. Now, please tell me were you where at approximately 6:30 AM?” “6:30 AM? Mmmh. Well, I was drawing a picture of a muffin and mocha.” “Any proof?” “Why yes, I always put the date, and time. And my name on the paper.” “May I see it?” “Yeah, here,” He handed me paper. Reba leaned over my shoulder. “What a mocha! And that muffin! Just look at that signature! Pure genius!” “Oh, yeah amazing and all, but Reba, we have work” I cut in. “Fine.” “Mr. Greenland, did you ever have anything against AnneMarie?” I inquired. “Actually yes, we both knew an old lady, as I said before, and when she died, she left AnneMarie a lot of money but only left dollar to me.” He voice contained a lot of acrimony “Okay, you can go but get Ms. CarPeach” I said. He stretched and ran out of the room. In came Matti Ivy CarPeach. She was short, skinny, and had fluffy, black hair done up in the most ridicules hairdo I’ve ever had the misfortune to see. Reba, however, didn’t seem to share a hate of Ms. CarPeach's hairdo. In fact, she seemed to love it. “Um, hello Ms. CarPeach. Please have a seat.” “Thank you, Detective.” I cringed. Her voice was so high and squeaky that I’m sure every dog in a 20 mile radius cringed in pain. “AH!! Uh, I mean, Uh… let's begin.” “Fantastic!” I closed my eyes.” Okay let's cut to the cheese. How well did you know AnneMarie?” “Well, I know her well enough to hate her.” “Explain.” “Well, when we where at a gymnastic competition, she told me to come walk with her to the roof. Now, we both had a fair chance at winning, but I guess she just wanted to make sure she won. So we went on the roof of a 5 story building and then she pushed me off!! I was lucky to survive! I only lived because a mattress truck happened to be unloading underneath us.” “How unfortunate. Well, that is a good motive,” Reba sympathized. “Yes, it is a good motive but you can’t blame me. At 6:30 AM, I was in my office, which is under surveillance 24/7, reading a book.” “Thank you. Very interesting. You can go now.” As Ms. CarPeach left, Reba turned to me and said, “We must go find clues.” As we started to go out the door I paused, “Wait, what about McMonkeywhite?” Reba ushered me out the door. “Later, they just brought the wrecking ball machine used in the murder.” The Capture When we arrived at the scene of her death, the wrecking ball that killed AnneMarie was there. I, being the brilliant detective as I was, decided to get some fingerprints. As I did that, Reba looked around. After a trip to the lab to figure out the fingerprints, she had found something. A receipt to Starbucks. The signature was torn off but the order was a mocha with chocolate and caramel. It was very unhelpful information but I saved her from embarrassment. “The fingerprints I found belong to Bob Garland and the second belong to McMonkeywhite. “ Reba thought for a minute “OK, I want an interview with him stat.” Ten minutes later we where in my office with Oscar C. McMonkeywhite in front of us. I, of course, had to start the conversation. Women can never seem to do that with men. “OK, Mr. McMonkeywhite, do you know why you are here?” He turned and I could fully see him. He was a middle aged man with dark brown hair and a mustache that was as long as my arm. Other than that, he was the kind of guy you’d see in the shadows, in your nightmares, so when he spoke, his voice surprised me. It was soft and melodic, like a hippie from the 80's. “Yeah, I think I do. It’s about AnneMarie's death right?” He answered. “Yes, you’re right,” Reba continued “Did you know her well?” “Kind of. She just started to work her last year and even with no experience, she was hired to become assistant manager over me,” Oscar’s voice was now a more angered, rude tone, yet still unbelievable harmonic. I needed lessons from this guy, he was good. “I was nice to her, though. She was a polite girl, expect for the incidents of hurting all the other workers. In fact, I was here to drop of a resume and swung by to say hi to her just as she hit the wall. Unfortunately, I didn’t see who was driving the wrecking ball.” “Very interesting,” I said, “Do you happen to be allergic to anything?” Reba looked at me questioningly and started to speak but one look from me shut her up. “Well, the only thing I’m allergic to is cat fur, why?” Oscar McMonkeywhite wondered. “Oh, no reason” I said “It was just that I was wondering if you would like a mocha with chocolate and caramel.” He looked so startled I had to suppress a laugh. “Oh, yes, I know it was you and don’t bother denying it, everything you say can be used against you.” Many days later, as Reba and I sat down at Starbucks and ordered mocha’s with chocolate and caramel, she asked the question I knew that had been on her mind for days. “How did you know it was him?” “It was easy. His fingerprints. They were on the receipt and there was a mocha stain on his tie.” How she didn't notice that, I can never know. “Oh, you’re right,” There was a note of surprise in her voice. “Don't act so surprised, I am a wonderful detective. I can solve any mystery.” I have to say, I did sound a bit imperious. “Oh, sure you can,” Reba laughed. How offensive.
When I woke up on the fateful that day in August, my first thought was, “I need to change my ring tone.” Why? Well, my ring tone was a cow mooing. I know. So, anyway, I picked up my cell phone to end the horrible sound of mooing. “Uhhhhhhh”
“Finally you’re awake! It’s only 12:00 PM! Now get up, we have a new case.”
It was Reba Greenbach, my annoying, yet awesome, assistant. “Already?!”
“Yeah, already. Here’s the case. A twenty-four year old person named AnneMarie Ivory was killed by a wrecking ball at about 6:38 AM.”
“A wrecking ball, really. Well OK, who’re the suspects?”
“There are four main suspects, and each has their own motives. Now get over here so we can interview them!”
“Si, mi amigo, I’ll see you in a minute Reba.”
“I hate it when you talk Spanish.”
“Good bye Reba. Whoa wait, where is it?”
“At Hobbes and Co. on 34th street. Now come on Orange!”“What a nice person,” I thought sarcastically. Well, a new case. Wonderful, we just finished one and we get a new one. At Hobbes and Co. of all places. Man, that place has a bad reputation. One year a man who was working just disappeared after trying to fix the plumbing. And another time, oh, I don’t want to think about it.
Twenty minutes later, I in the office of Ms. Zen, the manager. She was maudlin. She was talking to Reba, sobbing out “We, we were like two peas in a pod, two twigs on a tree, like, like, BFF's forever. We, we -”
Reba patted her on the back. “We understand, but if you would like us to catch your friend’s killer, we are going to need you to cooperate.”
“Alright Reba,” I broke in, “What are the details of the murder?”
“Well, it happened at 6:38 AM, killed by a wrecking ball while eating a muffin and drinking coffee.”
“Yes, yes,” I said “So, who is our first interviewee?”
The Interviews
First up was Bob Garland.
He was a bit chubby and from his sentimental countenance, he was sensitive. He had a bright red suit that was a bit too ostentatious for a construction worker.
I cleared my throat and asked the first question “So, what were you doing at 6:30 AM”
“I was in the Porta – Potty.”
I closed my eyes. “Any, uh, any proof of that?”
He raised his eyebrows – “Do you REALLY want to know?”
“OK, where else were you?”
“In the break room, getting grape juice.”
“Any proof of that?”
“There is a camera showing me drop a jug of grape juice, and there's also the stain on the floor”
“Did you know the dead woman well?” I inquired.
“Not very well but well enough,” he replied, “Just about everyone here hates her for some reason, I mean, she broke my leg ‘accidentally’. Yeah right. But you know, I try to keep that in oblivion.”
“That’s nice,” Reba absentmindedly muttered as she eyed a blueberry muffin.
“Well, that’s wonderful information. Do you know if Ms. Ivory said anything as she died?”
“Yes, actually. She yelled out Mic. What a weird thing to yell, because my MIDDLE NAME is Mic, Matti CarPeach's Initials are MIC, and McMonkeywhite's last name starts with Mic. So, really the only person without any connection to Mic is Joe Greenland.”
Reba’s eyes grew huge. “OK, send Joe Greenland in, he’s eavesdropping on us anyway.”
The door opened and in fell Joe Greenland. He was a tall, thin, wiry man with a bright green mohawk that stuck out for miles. He was wearing a orange shirt and ragged, old, blue jeans. In his hand was a yellow hard hat. He looked like an average construction worker, minus the mohawk and green hair. “Hello Mr. Greenland, who are you?” I inquired.
“Fine, thank you. A bit nervous about the killing. We didn’t really know each other but we were friends with an old lady.”
“OK. Now, please tell me were you where at approximately 6:30 AM?”
“6:30 AM? Mmmh. Well, I was drawing a picture of a muffin and mocha.”
“Any proof?”
“Why yes, I always put the date, and time. And my name on the paper.”
“May I see it?”
“Yeah, here,” He handed me paper.
Reba leaned over my shoulder. “What a mocha! And that muffin! Just look at that signature! Pure genius!”
“Oh, yeah amazing and all, but Reba, we have work” I cut in.
“Fine.”
“Mr. Greenland, did you ever have anything against AnneMarie?” I inquired.
“Actually yes, we both knew an old lady, as I said before, and when she died, she left AnneMarie a lot of money but only left dollar to me.” He voice contained a lot of acrimony
“Okay, you can go but get Ms. CarPeach” I said.
He stretched and ran out of the room. In came Matti Ivy CarPeach. She was short, skinny, and had fluffy, black hair done up in the most ridicules hairdo I’ve ever had the misfortune to see. Reba, however, didn’t seem to share a hate of Ms. CarPeach's hairdo. In fact, she seemed to love it.
“Um, hello Ms. CarPeach. Please have a seat.”
“Thank you, Detective.”
I cringed. Her voice was so high and squeaky that I’m sure every dog in a 20 mile radius cringed in pain. “AH!! Uh, I mean, Uh… let's begin.”
“Fantastic!”
I closed my eyes.” Okay let's cut to the cheese. How well did you know AnneMarie?”
“Well, I know her well enough to hate her.”
“Explain.”
“Well, when we where at a gymnastic competition, she told me to come walk with her to the roof. Now, we both had a fair chance at winning, but I guess she just wanted to make sure she won. So we went on the roof of a 5 story building and then she pushed me off!! I was lucky to survive! I only lived because a mattress truck happened to be unloading underneath us.”
“How unfortunate. Well, that is a good motive,” Reba sympathized.
“Yes, it is a good motive but you can’t blame me. At 6:30 AM, I was in my office, which is under surveillance 24/7, reading a book.”
“Thank you. Very interesting. You can go now.”
As Ms. CarPeach left, Reba turned to me and said, “We must go find clues.”
As we started to go out the door I paused, “Wait, what about McMonkeywhite?”
Reba ushered me out the door. “Later, they just brought the wrecking ball machine used in the murder.”
The Capture
When we arrived at the scene of her death, the wrecking ball that killed AnneMarie was there. I, being the brilliant detective as I was, decided to get some fingerprints. As I did that, Reba looked around. After a trip to the lab to figure out the fingerprints, she had found something. A receipt to Starbucks. The signature was torn off but the order was a mocha with chocolate and caramel. It was very unhelpful information but I saved her from embarrassment. “The fingerprints I found belong to Bob Garland and the second belong to McMonkeywhite. “
Reba thought for a minute “OK, I want an interview with him stat.”
Ten minutes later we where in my office with Oscar C. McMonkeywhite in front of us. I, of course, had to start the conversation. Women can never seem to do that with men. “OK, Mr. McMonkeywhite, do you know why you are here?”
He turned and I could fully see him. He was a middle aged man with dark brown hair and a mustache that was as long as my arm. Other than that, he was the kind of guy you’d see in the shadows, in your nightmares, so when he spoke, his voice surprised me. It was soft and melodic, like a hippie from the 80's.
“Yeah, I think I do. It’s about AnneMarie's death right?” He answered.
“Yes, you’re right,” Reba continued “Did you know her well?”
“Kind of. She just started to work her last year and even with no experience, she was hired to become assistant manager over me,” Oscar’s voice was now a more angered, rude tone, yet still unbelievable harmonic. I needed lessons from this guy, he was good. “I was nice to her, though. She was a polite girl, expect for the incidents of hurting all the other workers. In fact, I was here to drop of a resume and swung by to say hi to her just as she hit the wall. Unfortunately, I didn’t see who was driving the wrecking ball.”
“Very interesting,” I said, “Do you happen to be allergic to anything?”
Reba looked at me questioningly and started to speak but one look from me shut her up.
“Well, the only thing I’m allergic to is cat fur, why?” Oscar McMonkeywhite wondered.
“Oh, no reason” I said “It was just that I was wondering if you would like a mocha with chocolate and caramel.” He looked so startled I had to suppress a laugh. “Oh, yes, I know it was you and don’t bother denying it, everything you say can be used against you.”
Many days later, as Reba and I sat down at Starbucks and ordered mocha’s with chocolate and caramel, she asked the question I knew that had been on her mind for days. “How did you know it was him?”
“It was easy. His fingerprints. They were on the receipt and there was a mocha stain on his tie.” How she didn't notice that, I can never know.
“Oh, you’re right,” There was a note of surprise in her voice.
“Don't act so surprised, I am a wonderful detective. I can solve any mystery.” I have to say, I did sound a bit imperious.
“Oh, sure you can,” Reba laughed. How offensive.