My Mystery, Cha Three

Goober Partridge sat in his receiving room opposite Inspector Halfahock who was holding a stack of folders. Partridge was only allowing the police forty-five minutes a week of consultation, so they usually brought in several cases. The great detective would speed read the particulars of the case and then give his input on each as quickly as possible. It was the “lightning round”…

Partridge skimmed the first folder. He looked up suddenly, his piercing green eyes shining, “The butler did this one. You’ll find the murder weapon under the stairs”. He quickly grabbed another folder. “This murder was committed by three men wearing one pair of shoes” He flipped to the next. “This death was early onset old age. This one was committed by a dog wearing a hat… And, this one”, he closed the last folder, “Was an accidental crucifixion”

Partridge closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “And… a man named Archie Richardson was behind the kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby”

“I’m sure he’s long dead”, Halfahock, scoffed.

“Indeed, killed by another dog wearing a hat, coincidentally. But, his great grandson is still alive”

“But, he wasn’t involved in the kidnapping!”

Partridge smiled, thinly, “Yes, but he did precious little to stop it, either”

Inspector Halfahock sat in the love-seat, mouth agape. “I’m always amazed by your deductive skills, Partridge”

“My blushes”, answered Partridge, “Oh, and your mother was Catholic, you had orange juice for breakfast and you ate a baseball when you were seven years old”

Halfahock nodded gravely, “I’d lost a bet. The doctor told my mother that it was the most fiber he’d ever seen in a seven year old. I’m still finding twine in my stool”

Goober Partridge gave the Inspector a sympathetic look. The inspector looked about the room. At the back was a large wooden table covered with case files and bottles of various acids. Partridge had gallons of acid. No one knew what he did with it, but if you asked him about it, he’d start purring and sit under the sink for two hours. Fallen onto the floor was a piece of cardboard with the words, “DIE WHORE!” in large red letters.

The inspector motioned to the cardboard, “Evidence in a new case?”

“No”, answered Goober Partridge, “That’s for my great aunt Helen. Her eightieth birthday is coming up and I didn’t have time to get a store-bought card”

“Doesn’t seem like the sentiment for a birthday card”

Partridge snapped, “How else would you wish an elderly woman a happy birthday?”

Halfahock cleared his throat and said, “We do have one more case that is confounding us”

“It’s very new, isn’t it?”

“How did you know?”

“No folder. So, tell me the particulars”

“A body in a locked room, found by the head butler who had to break the door down to get in–”

“Let me guess: Doors and windows locked from the inside?”

“Exactly! He was stabbed twelve times and then electrocuted. The look on his face was priceless”

“I can imagine”, the great detective replied, “What was the victim’s name?”

“Snakeford Cadd”

Goober Partridge gave a startled look, “Snakeford Cadd?”

“Did you know him?”

“Yes. He once sold me a bag of mushy apples. I vowed, that day, that I wouldn’t rest until I found him dead in a library. Was he found in a library?”

The Inspector nodded. “Thank God!”, exclaimed Partridge, “I can FINALLY rest”

“The local police are baffled and on vacation. They’d like you to look into it”

Partridge took his appointment calendar out of the pocket of his dressing gown, “I couldn’t possibly even entertain getting involved until I solve the Lady Catterwick case; and, I don’t think I’ll be—wait! The fire was started by chimpanzees… LEFT-HANDED CHIMPANZEES” The great detective made a note to call Lady Catterwick, “Well, she’ll be relieved… or uneasy… depends on how she feels about chimps”

Goober Partridge contemplated for a moment, stroking his pointed chin. “I accept the case. Tell the household not to touch the body. I’ll be there next Tuesday”