The Detective

“It is all so simple if you just open your mind and let your eyes do the talking. My name is Dover, Detective Lionel Dover.”

The homeowner looked puzzled, the detective was wearing a pair of brown moleskin trousers, a brown barn jacket and a poorly clipped moustache. His detective badge was clearly displayed on a chain around his neck.

“I’m sorry sir…”

“Detective” Lionel interrupted

“Detective…um, can I help you?”

“I’m here about the murder.” A small smile peeked out from behind the crooked moustache, it really was ghastly.

“I think you have the wrong house” The homeowner indicated the house down the street surrounded by miles of police tape, a few media vans and several police cars with their lights flashing.

“Are you sure?” Detective Lionel Dover queried the homeowner, squinting one eye in a grotesque attempt at a wink.

“Yes, quite sure, no dead people here”

“Ah, well, thank you good citizen for your time. Enjoy the beautiful day.” Detective Lionel Dover spun on his heel and walked across the lawn leaving divots in the damp ground, thoroughly muddying his shoes and pants before finally stumbling over the hedges and turning to walk down the sidewalk.

The homeowner peered up at the sky; it was still spitting mist, cold and gray. He shook his head and closed his door.

Detective Lionel Dover walked down the street examining each house carefully before continuing to the next. At one house he pulled out his notebook and scribbled a few lines before fastidiously putting it back into his breast pocket and continuing to the house with all the commotion.

“Hello fine beat cops, you can relax now, Detective Lionel Dover, here to solve the case”

The two firemen looked at each other, shrugged and walked off, leaving the detective standing alone in front of the house.

“Hey, detective, over here!” A young police officer yelled from the front door. The young officer, just a few months on the force, had been the first on the scene. The detective nodded and trod across lawn, further muddying his pants and shoes.

“Ah, Officer Smithson, good to see you this beautiful morning”

“It’s Officer Swanson” The officer said pointing at the prominent name badge on his left breast. The detective bent over, carefully examining the badge before straightening up and clapping the officer on the shoulder.

“Congratulations on the nuptials sir. I did not know you had gotten married.”

The detective walked up the stairs, under the crime tape and directly in the front door. The crime scene technician trying to fingerprint the door yelled at the detective, but it was too late, he had already grasped the door knob, opened the door and trod into the entryway, his muddy foot prints destroying any evidence in the not-yet-processed room. The detective walked through the house taking notes in his small notebook as he darted from one random spot to another. Eventually, by sheer luck he came to the body, which was surrounded by the medical examiner and a few more crime scene technicians.

“Is this the deceased?”

The medical examiner looked up at the detective with a confused expression. They seemed to follow the detective around (confused expressions.)

“Yes the dead man on the rug is the deceased.”

“I can see that he was bludgeoned to death, some sort of large object to his temple”

“No, he was poisoned”

“I’m guessing a shovel or a rake” The detective replied, completely ignoring the medical examiner.

“A rake, how the hell could you kill someone with a rake?”

“I can see he was also shot in the left knee.”

The medical examiner looked at the deceased man’s pale, slightly knobby, obviously-not-shot knee and could not identify how the detective had arrived at such an erroneous conclusion.

“I’m done here. Make sure you mention the rake in your report. I wont interrupt you any further" The detective declared victoriously before stepping out of the room. On his way out he knocked a vase from table by the door, causing it to smash on the floor. The detective strolled to the back door and examined the broken window pane closely before suddenly rushing off to the body.

“Excuse me doctor, did the gentleman have any cuts on his right hand?”

The M.E. lifted the body’s right hand, displaying a pristine, if not slightly pale hand, free of any lacerations.

The detective turned, and before reaching the door, catching sight of the vase he had broken just seconds ago exclaimed: “Aha! Clear signs of a struggle. In the man’s study, this is very interesting.” He jotted down a note in his notebook before crunching through the broken glass and walking towards the front door. He gave an excited exclamation again in the entryway, upon noticing his own muddy foot prints.

“Muddy footprints! Fascinating, a picture begins to form in my head!” The crime scene technicians busy at work shook their heads at the apparently crazy detective talking to himself. They shook their heads again when the detective stepped through the muddy footprints he had left just minutes prior, smudging the floor on his way out.

“Officer Samson!” Officer Swanson rolled his eyes at the firemen and walked over to the detective.

“Can I help you detective?”

“Yes, can you get me the gardener?”

“What gardener?”

“Surely an estate such as this had a dedicated gardening service” The detective glanced down the block and saw a landscaping truck parked a few blocks down. “That one, let’s go talk to the driver of the truck.”

Officer Swanson trudged off towards the truck slightly behind to the detective. The driver was sitting behind the wheel, smoking a cigarette.

“Excuse me sir” the detective asked, tapping on the driver’s side window. The driver lowered his window.

“Whaddya want?”

“Beautiful day don’t you think?”

“Yeah, sure, beautiful fucking day”

“Do you do the gardening at that house?” The detective gestured towards the murder house.

“Gardening, nope, I just cut the grass.”

“May I ask you to step out of your truck?”

“You can certainly ask.”

“Please step out of the truck”

“Why?”

“Because you’re under arrest for the murder of the gentleman on the floor in that house.”

Officer Swanson’s mouth was agape. There was not a single shred of evidence collected, and here the detective was arresting what seemed like a bystander for a murder that had not even been officially recorded down at the station.

"Sir, we just wanted to question you as a possible witness..." Swanson began before the driver interrupted him.

"Alright, fine"

The driver took a deep breath, and looking crestfallen, stepped out. He towered over the detective, but he wordlessly turned around and put his hands together, and the detective quickly handcuffed him.

A few hours later back at the station, the landscaping man sat at the table as the detective prepared to interrogate him.

“Look I already confessed, and they already booked me, why do you need to interrogate me?”

“Last night you killed the man at 34 Shaw St. Did you not?” The detective replied, oblivious to the man's previous statement.

“Um, I think his address was 43 Shaw St., but yes, I killed him.”

“Let me tell you how it went down. You were lovers with the man, and yet he was always busy at work."

The landscaping man’s eyebrows creased his forehead, he was confused. He started to reply but was interrupted by the detective.

“You argued last night, in his study. It was a heated argument, there was a brief physical struggle, but you over powered him, knocking over a vase in the process.”

“Uh, no, I was never in the study…”

The detective re-interrupted him, ignoring his confession:

“You then went to your truck, fetched this rake” The detective held a wooden leaf rake he had retrieved from the back of the landscapers truck before continuing: “You tracked in through the front door, leaving your muddy boot prints behind, and you bludgeoned your lover, before shooting him in the knee and leaving via the back door, which you broke with the handle of the rake in your haste to flee the scene.”

“Uh, no, I slipped some fertilizer into his tea after he stiffed me on payment for the third month in a row. I came and left through the back door, which he always left unlocked. I smashed the window to make it look like a robbery." The man looked confused--a look that followed Detective Dover everywhere. "How do you bludgeon someone to death with a rake?

“But you admit you killed him?”

“Yes”

“Perfect, case closed. Officer Swinton, please book this gentleman on the charge of manslaughter”

“Uh, Swanson sir, and we already booked him, on murder--he confessed, I’m not really sure what you are even doing here.”

“I am teaching you the value of good detective work, young man.”