THE BLACK BOWL MYSTERY
I came home from work and found the dog bowls exactly like this. The one on the left has the bottom broken out — very cleanly, in one piece. What do you think could have happened? Cl, I trust you will tap your deep intimacy with Agatha Christie and supply the answer. (By the way, I'm surprised that you — who recently berated me for typing your name with an "ie" — have not altered your spelling in homage to the grande dame of detection).
A clue: Two black dogs were in the room when I left, and the same two black dogs were there when I returned. The beasts have been thoroughly interrogated — with myself expertly playing both good cop and bad cop — and they pretend to know nothing.
Another clue: I could find no evidence of anyone entering or exiting the room — neither from the doorways nor from the window.
A possible red herring: Monsieur Rupert, in his joie de vivre, once broke a matching plate from this same dinnerware set.
A warning: Do not scrutinize the cleanliness of my carpet in this photo. My vacuum is on the fritz.
Mug shots of only known suspects, both unemployed, taken on the night of the crime:
posted by kc @ 1:29 AM
10 comments
10 Comments:
Rupert looks guilty. hehe
How the hell did they do that?
He does indeed. But he could be covering for his manipulative mistress: Mabel, the two-toned bitch hound (as she is described in the police report).
"Christie" is not the preferred spelling for the shortening of "Christine," you minx.
I have channeled my inner Agatha anyway, and the answer obviously lies within one of the following scenarios:
1. Long ago, Rupert had a love affair with a canine who mauled a rabbit, and he was so disgusted by her actions that he broke it off with her. Except he lied to you! HE really killed the rabbit, his soul mate left him, and in his love-starved state, he has become an undetected, crazed murderer plotting against the inhabitants of your household.
2. Mabel is trying to leave us clues that you are not really Kim, you are Kim's twin sister. The siblings were very close, but the real Kim died tragically, and she had so much money -- but forgot to leave a will -- that it only made sense that you pick up pretending to BE Kim since she would have wanted you to have the money. Let me think; I bet your real name is "Kimie." If a lamp was knocked over the same day the dish was broken, that proves everything.
3. You actually broke the dish, but as the narrator you appear to be above suspicion, and you are casting Mabel and Rupert as suspects because they somehow will be blamed later for your failure to appear at workplace leadership training next fall when you would earn and distribute "trust bucks" given to you by a facilitator who wears a stuffed fish on her head. However, your next-door neighbor is not a poet but actually a retired detective who grows vegetable marrows in his spare time, who, upon noting the newspapers piling up by your front door, will pay you a visit and deduce the entire, foiled plan.
Oh, brilliant sleuthing, Dame Christy! And all from the comfort of your employer's armchair. Good show. I've no doubt that a little harmless poking around at the scene will let you confidently settle your mind on the proper scenario. I myself am partial to No. 1, seeing as how No. 2 and No. 3 can't be said to reflect well on my character.
Perhaps you should drop by at tea time. Who knows what you will find to assist in your investigation. A mysterious note? A muddy footprint (probably mine, on account of the vacuum being on the fritz, but we can't be too carfeul)? A piece of furniture that has been moved? A white dog hair?
Perhaps the broken bowl itself is a red herring. Perhaps an intense ray of yesterday's unseasonably warm sun trained itself on the bowl through the glass in the French doors and split it. Perhaps the real crime has yet to be detected!
It sounded urgent, Miss Muffet.
Maybe Rupert overindulged on Kibblelicious and pushed on the bottom of the bowl to see whether any bits were hidden underneath.
I think the culprit is the dishwasher - or whatever was next to the bowl during the last go-'round.
Yup.
The dishwasher? The bowls were intact when I put the kibbleicious in them. When I came home, the kibbleicious was gone (it was actually gone before I made it out the door) and the bowl was in two pieces just like it is in the picture.
1. Do you know which suspect ate out of which bowl?
2. Did you prod snouts to check for contusions? The sort of force that would cause that breakage would cause bruising.
3. I'm partial to the lovely Ms. Rush's theory. Perhaps fatal damage was done to the bowl in good Sir Dishwasher but the damage was intrinsic at first, only becoming apparent after a jubilant nose came into contact with it.
yeah, the jubilant nose.
hairline fracture, then jubilant nose.
jubilant.
nose.
I suspect a jubilant ass was more likely.
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