The trail, much like the witness, was cold.
Like, really cold, like ice or something.
And it was getting colder.
Wait, what’s colder than ice? Nothing! Jesus, this detective work was a lot harder than the TV made it look. I missed TV. I’d been down here in the damp dark slurking around waiting for new evidence for ages and then all of a sudden this dead body turned up. It was a good thing my trusty sidekick ‘Johnny’ Doesmurders was down here with me – his finely-tuned senses had located the victim immediately.
“Whaddya reckon COD is here, ‘Johnny’?” I asked him.
‘Johnny’ frowned and thumbed his chin with the barrel of his still-smoking pistol as he considered the corpse lying directly in front of him. “Big hole in the back of his head,” he noted. “Musta gotten blown away. Could’ve been a gun or an icepick or a jackhammer or a narwhal or something.”
“Where would a mug get a narwhal around here?” I demanded.
“The zoo.”
“You kidding me? They don’t even let you ride the polar bear no more. Shit, I bet they keep the narwhals locked in a safe somewhere and the head keeper’s the only guy with a key. Nah, I think this was like, a gun. Or maybe something like that. I dunno, what do I look like?”
“A gumshoe,” said ‘Johnny.’
I checked my foot. Goddamnit, he was right. Someone really needed to clean these alleys.
Then I froze as the world settled into perfect, clear crystal.
‘Johnny,’ I said, carefully. “Look at my shoe. What do you see?”
‘Johnny’ peered into the murky depths of my sole. “Looks like mint or maybe spearmint,” he offered.
“No, not that. Look at it. Look closer.”
He squinted so hard his eyes crossed, then gave up.
“It’s a MAP, ‘Johnny,’” I told him. “And we’re going there now.”
“But where’s there?” he asked.
“I’ll know it when I see it.”
“Okay,” I said. “I don’t know where we are.”
We were fifteen miles from nowhere in a fourteen-pound sack, in some godforsaken fast food place behind a parking lot behind a suburb behind a hideous little townlette that had been swallowed whole by Big City. It was quiet – too quiet. The fryer bubbled to itself, overflowing with dirty little secrets. My hands smelled bad.
‘Johnny’ wandered over to the counter to scope the place out. Then there was a loud, overpowering noise like ‘bang’ or something, three times.
“Holy shit!” he yelled.
I ran over and was face to face with a corpse. Well, face to back of the face. It was some dead guy lying on top of the counter so his face was pointing at the counter, not me.
And right in the back of that head that I was face to face with instead of his face was a big, smoking hole.
“Aw fuck,” I said. “We’re too late.”
“So is he,” quipped ‘Johnny.’ “Because he’s like, dead.”
“Wow,” I said. “That makes no damned sense, ‘Johnny.’ Maybe you should look for clues instead of being weird, you ever thinka that?”
He scuffed his shoes and pouted, but went to check the fryer for evidence. Me, I cleared out a rack of freshly-prepped burgers and went over the birds-eye view of the case in my mind. This just wasn’t adding up.
For one thing, how the hell had the guy gotten hold of TWO narwhals? I was pretty sure the zoo only had one.
For another, why would the crook leave the delicious salty bounty of the building untouched? This motive was whacko.
For another after another, who the hell had left onions off these things? You couldn’t pay me to eat burgers like these. It was almost a crime.
Then I froze as the world settled into perfect, clear crystal.
“‘Johnny,’” I said, carefully, “ when you said this stiff was ‘too late,’ did you mean actually, physically late… or were you referring to how he was expired.”
‘Johnny’ looked at me with genuine amazement. “Wow,” he said. “Wasn’t thinking of that at all. That was like, an accident.”
I nodded, tapped my chin, squinted a little, and cleared my throat. “Or WAS it?” I said. Then I almost fell over.
“Geez!”
“Sorry. Tapped my chin too hard. Listen, I think I got a clue or a hunch or a lead or something like that. Follow me.”
“I’m the driver, boss.”
“Well then follow YOU,” I said, pissed off now. “Jeez. Do I gotta do everything around here?”
“No,” he said.
“Right. Just most of it. C’mon.”
“Woah!” said ‘Johnny’. There was a bang, and then another bang, and then a big fat wet hairy thud.
I spun around, then spun around again because I’d overspun the first time. By the time I was done spinning I felt terrible and threw up all over the place.
“Auuuururghghtlltltllpppth,” I said.
“Aw NO,” said ‘Johnny’.
“Huurururururullllk. HRRRRMMMMPLTH!”
“Dangit!”
“blort”
“Wow.”
I stopped throwing up and pulled out my gun. “Nobody move!” I shouted in an incredibly authoritative voice.
I’ll give this creep his dues: he didn’t move an inch. He was cool as a cucumber. Lying there on the floor, spread-eagled and covered in vomit, he acted like he was standing upright, in a lotus pose and covered in refreshingly chilled Hawaiian punch.
My eyes twitched. My hand crawled across the trigger, dragging a finger after it.
“Last chance, scumbag,” I growled.
I flinched, and put a round in his forehead.
“Damnit!”
“It’s okay, boss. I saw everything.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Yeah I didn’t see anything.”
I walked over and conducted a crime scene investigation, snapping my gloves on and off again and tasting the various substances around the victim for chemical evidence.
“Suspect was a person, aged adult, and had three holes in her on account of being blown away.” Damnit, how many narwhals did this guy HAVE? Were we dealing with a smuggling ring? I hoped not. Squares were so much easier. “Looks like she threw up a lot all over the place. It’s possible the perp is a really bad cook or that the victim had a real delicate stomach.”
“That was you,” said ‘Johnny.’
“I’m not putting up with your insubordinate shenanigans for one more second, Doesmurders,” I snapped at him.
Then I froze as the world settled into perfect, clear crystal.
“‘Johnny,’” I said, carefully, “pass me the garbage can. I’m not done throwing up yet.”
When I was done throwing up we searched the joint bottom to top. Don’t know why anyone does it the other way; too many staircases.
“We’re overthinking this,” I said. “Let’s just go find that guy who saw the first murder and ask him what happened.”
“Yeah,” said ‘Johnny.’ “Jeez, I bet he knows lots. He sure was in a hurry to show off about it. ‘Oooh, lookit meee, I’m a WIIIT-nesss. Don’t you wanna question me? C’mon, question me!’ Showoff little punk.”
“Stay frosty, ‘Johnny,’” I told him. “Keep your cool. Don’t freeze up. Be chill.”
“Okay okay okay okay okay,” he said.
The witness’s house was a tall glass of bricks, three stories high and one story wide. I knew for sure we’d find out what kind of person lived here the moment we found him.
The doorbell didn’t work, so we let ourselves in. Door didn’t work either. We ended up using the window.
Then I froze as the world settled into perfect, clear crystal.
“‘Johnny,’” I said, carefully, “can you get tetanus from broken glass?”
“Nah.”
“Oh. Okay.”
I stepped over the perfect, clear crystal and ignored the ouchies. I’d put bandaids on ‘em later. For now, I just needed the truth.
“Hi,” said the witness. “Why’d you break my window?”
“Damnit I’m asking the questions here!” I shouted.
“Click,” said ‘Johnny.’
“Me, not you, ‘Johnny.’”
“Yeah. Sorry. Out of bullets.”
“Listen,” said the witness. “There’s something I’ve got to tell you. These murders this night… were done by the murderkiller.”
I wanted to freeze as the world settled into perfect, clear crystal but instead all I did was say ‘holy fuck.’
“Holy fuck!” I said.
“Yes!” said the witness. “The murderkiller! The fiend who has killed so many murders over the years, so many of them so close to you! The elusive monster! The man who has killed your parents and your siblings and your pals and your buds and your first through second wives!”
“Wow!” I said.
“And your dog and your cat and your fish and your pet rock and your car and your apartment and your super and your goldfish crackers and your bike and your lawn and your hopes and your dreams and”
“This is getting boring,” I said. “I’m bored.”
“and that guy tonight and that other guy and that girl”
“Hey, can I borrow your gun?” asked ‘Johnny.’
“Sure, here.”
“Thanks,” said ‘Johnny.’ Then he pointed it at the witness and blew him away.
Wait a minute. That was the fourth witness we’d found dead. What if he’d blown away the others? Who else liked blowing away witnesses?
“Holy SHIT,” I said. “’Johnny’ Doesmurders is the murderkiller!”
“No,” said ‘Johnny.’
“Oh,” I said. “Shit. That was my best lead.”
“It happens, boss,” he said. “Hey, let’s forget this scene and go wrap up the case with some burritos. My treat.”
“Sounds great,” I said. “This trail is stone cold and boring as flip. Where we heading?”
“Big Pete’s,” he said. “I hear that place is… to DIE for.”
“Heh,” I said. “I get it.”
‘Johnny’ Doesmurders squinted at me over a mountain of sour cream. “Get what?”
“Dunno,” I said. “Hey, quit hogging that.”