The
Case of the Strong Poisoning of the Lady’s Auxiliary
By DocPaul
Series: Michael Guerin, The World’s Greatest
Alien Investigator
Episode: Four
Author’s email: DocPaul2002@yahoo.ca
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none,
Disclaimers: The concepts and names are the same, but
the characters belong to me. I give them life, more life than
Warnings: This is not canon, so if you expect it,
don’t. Things change. People change. It happens.
Summary: A
Michael POV documenting his investigating technique as the World's Greatest
Alien Investigator. From pranks to misdemeanors, to accidental, who is to say
what is what?.
Author’s note: This is a fluff piece for me. Thought
you could use a relief from angst…or prolonged angst. The idea of this story
is taken in part from the movie Zero Effect with all parts after the first part
completely mine. This case is dedicated to Tabi who shared a real life
suggestion about a prank, and it is found in this story. Thank you.
The
Case of the Strong Poisoning of the Lady’s Auxiliary
Michael Guerin:
The World's
Greatest Alien Investigator
~For Tabi~
Anatomy
of a perfect crime. Is that a misnomer? Anything that can be discerned is by
nature not perfect. Perfect in this context means beyond solving. Crime or
malfeasance is by nature an act with direction and purpose. Purposeful actions
are premeditative and focused in that they have a directive or a target. If
there is a target, then there is a motive, and with motive comes intent, from
intent comes opportunity and suspects. That is the anatomy of detection.
If
you can understand the direction of a crime, to whom it is directed, discern a
motive of intent, then a list of likely suspects comes to mind. That leads to
the only possible outcome. A solution.
It is
important to watch the interaction of all your suspects, to see their telling
signs, or nervous ticks, and usually all is revealed. In classical detection
genre, this is called the rounding up of the suspects in the final scene,
usually a dinner party. So here we begin with a lineup of the usual suspects.
Michael
leaned back in the driver’s seat with a sigh. Staring straight ahead, his jaw
flexed in a tightening grimace. He was visibly counting to ten.
“Don’t be this way.”
“I am this way.”
Maria placed her hand on his thigh, reflexively his
hand covered hers. “She’s scared.” Michael lifted the hand and kissed its
back. Maria searched his face. He and Isabel hadn’t been getting along lately,
but since Simon, that changed. Now Isabel was clingy and needy.
“This is the third time this week.”
“Jesse apologized.”
Michael snorted. Big fat hairy deal. His evening was
once again, ruined. Thanks to Isabel, the ‘I’m a thorn in your side’ new
mother. “How long is this going to go on?”
Maria reached up and forced him to look at her.
“You tell me. The first time you’re left alone with the baby, it's crying,
and you can’t figure out what is wrong. The phone rings, a pot overflows, and
someone comes to the door. You tell me how long it goes on. How nerve wracking.
The first time the baby is sick.”
Michael never considered that. “You’re not going
to leave me alone with the baby?” He cleared his throat. Okay, his voice had
an unusual squeak. No. She wouldn’t dare. Maria knew how insane he got when he
was protecting things. He would reinforce the house for an alien invasion, set
traps, and arm himself. She was a mother. No mother would do that.
“In a heartbeat. I know that our child will be
perfectly safe with you. I have no doubts.”
“Maria,” Michael cleared his throat. “Maria,
you’ve got to promise me that you won’t just leave me alone to deal.
Promise.”
Maria kissed him gently on the lips. “You’ll do
fine. You’ll see.” Maria quickly got out of the SUV. Michael tumbled out in
a hurry to catch up.
“Maria…”
She was already up the front stairs to the veranda
when her foot went to step on something in the dark. It moved. Under her foot.
Making a rumbling noise, Maria stepped back in fright missing the top stair to
fall down the stairs. Michael caught her, but not before their heads hit hard,
and Michael hit the ground with Maria flat on top of him.
The breath was knocked out of him. Damn, all that
eating, Maria was definitely beginning to feel heavier. He never noticed, but
then again, it wasn’t often she fell on him down a flight of stairs.
“Damn! Maria? Maria... honey, are you okay?”
Michael hands came around her, but Maria wasn’t speaking, she was trying to
move back, pushing hard into Michael as she tried to scramble away.
“Michael!” Damn, she really could scream loud.
Michael was going to make a comment, when he saw it.
“Shit!” He quickly scrambled back as well
pulling her with him, trying to regain his feet.
Isabel must have heard the racket, irritated by the
inconsiderate noise with her child sick, she opened the front door in a rage.
“What is your problem!” Michael grimaced and
waited for it. It didn’t take long as her scream echoed in the night, as it
pierced the silence in a loud high pitch. Hell, it had to have scared the entire
bat population all the way to
~~~
“No. No, I want them found and emasculated.”
Jim didn’t bother to write that down. Isabel had
been on a long and winding tirade for the past ten minutes while animal control
tried to capture the baby alligator that had once been left on the Ramirez’s
front doorstep.
“Iz,” Jesse tried in a comforting sound, but
Isabel wasn’t listening. She went off again. Jesse shook his head at Jim. It
was best to let her get it out. He stood there in a pair of sweats and an old
Yale t-shirt holding a sick Simon. The small boy was lying with this head on
Jesse’s shoulder, and Jesse rubbed his back in comfort.
Michael was still checking Maria out for the
umpteenth time. Maria tried to get him to calm down too. Maybe aliens were just
emotional that way. Looking over, she smiled at Jesse. “Is the little man
okay?”
Jesse nodded. “He got caught up on immunization
shots today. We think he’s allergic to horse serum. The tetanus shot was a bad
experience. He’s still running a slight fever.”
That distracted Isabel away from the alligator
incident. With a flustering cooing noise, she turned her attention back to
Simon, and he easily went to her. As Jesse helped her sit to hold Simon easier.
“It’s been awful. He started throwing up, and
the doctor came, Doctor Jenkins, who, by the way was no help at all! He made a
comment in Simon’s medical records that he is allergic to equine. Fat lot of
good that is doing my poor baby.” Isabel kissed the sick child and rocked him.
Frickin’ fine time for her mother and father to be out of town, and Max was
off somewhere sulking.
Maria came over and squatted down. “Hey, kid. How
you feeling?”
Simon’s face was still flushed and his eyes
red-rimmed, but he smiled at Maria. “Ice cream?”
Jesse laughed. “I’ll get it.”
Isabel looked over at her husband. “Do you think
the milk will make him mucusy?”
“I think it will make him feel a hundred percent
better.” Jesse said, looking at his son. “Huh, pal?” Simon quickly nodded.
Michael came over and took his soon to be adopted
nephew from Isabel despite her protests. “Dammit, Iz, stop babying the kid.
He’s survived worse than a few bumps, scrapes and a damn tetanus shot. I find
you an excellent kid, and you try to turn him into a momma’s boy.” Michael
hefted Simon up in his arms. “Hey, Si, you want to go see a baby alligator?”
“Yeah!” Jesse laughed and followed Michael and
Simon out to check out how animal control was doing, blowing a kiss at the
protesting Isabel.
Maria took a seat and started eating Simon’s ice
cream, generously adding
Isabel sighed hard and buried her face in her hands,
peaking through her fingers at Maria. “No. I’m not. He falls down, scrapes
his knee. He decided to slide down the banister and took a tumble. I caught him
designing a possible parachute made from a bed sheet.”
Maria laughed. “All kids do crazy things. You know
that.”
“I know. I’m afraid.” Isabel looked at the
doorway which the others had gone. “What if he has too many injuries, or
illnesses? What if child services think we're lax and bad parents... neglectful?
We could lose him.” Isabel began shredding up a tissue.
“You need to calm down. He’s fine.” Maria took
the massacred tissue from Isabel. “Listen to me, you need to just stop and
breathe. Breathe. It’s going to be okay.”
“I know. Jesse says the same thing.” Isabel
breathed out hard. “I’m sorry to keep calling you guys over for every little
thing.” Isabel smiled brightly, but her eyes remained solemn and worried.
“With Max and Liz all broken up, I don’t know if I should call Liz.
And…she’s really strange around Simon. Mom is off with Dad to
“Iz!” Maria laughed and grabbed Isabel’s
hands. “It’s okay! We’re happy to come over. It’s okay. I’m sure Liz
would come too.” So she lied. Sue her. Michael hated coming over, and Liz
would rather die. Isabel didn’t need to know that right now.
Isabel sniffed and smiled at Maria, happy to have
someone on her side. “I want these idiot pranksters found and punished.”
Isabel looked over as Jesse came back with Simon and Michael followed talking
quietly to Jim. “Tell me they took it away.”
Jesse leaned down and kissed Isabel on the mouth
slowly before giving her back Simon. The kid never had so much hands-on
attention and Maria watched him as he lapped it up like an eager puppy. He still
missed his mother, but Isabel and Jesse were making the transition easier for
him by not letting him forget her. Whatever happened in his life, Carly Garcia
would always be his mother, and that was something even Isabel didn’t want to
take away.
“How many other incidents?” asked Michael
quietly, but Maria heard. She listened carefully as Jim told them that it was a
rash of pranks being played recently in the
Michael listened, ignoring all the snide remarks
from the angry Isabel. He and Jesse were both interested in the information.
Jesse looked over and shared a look with Maria. They both knew what was coming.
“I better look into this,” said Michael. So they
had a new case.
There
are all types of crimes, but one thing is true of them all, crimes are
passionate by nature. Even something as simple and mundane as a prank. There
comes a certain amount of satisfaction and excitement in setting up the perfect
prank, watching it unfold, and most certainly the anticipation of having it come
off wondering if you’ll get caught. It is directed at a target, but at times,
that target is not chosen with malicious intent, but rather for the humor of it
all.
The
question becomes the motive. Is it a harmless prank meant to be delivered
without malice, or is it covering a more nefarious purpose? Regardless, the
disregard of other lives is one that can’t be left unchallenged. Prank or not,
there is a shift in justice that must be served to preserve a balance.
If
you think I'm taking this high road merely because my lovely assistant was
scared and almost fell down a flight of stairs while in a precarious condition,
then you are getting to understand me pretty well by observation. Damn straight
I'm pretty pissed, and more than happy to dangle a few worms on the hook. I
didn’t read anywhere in the job description of World’s Greatest Alien
Investigator where I had to be nice.
So,
as much as crime is, by nature, an act of passion, believe it or not, even the
coldest, most calculated of revenges can be quite passionate as well. It is a
word that implies the feeling of strong emotions and believe me, stone cold
satisfaction can be pretty strong on the emotional scale.
Maria
watched from the porch as Michael and the others got ready. Jesse, Jim, and a
few of Michael’s construction crew, namely his friends Steve, Fly and the
others were ready to go on a modern day ‘snipe hunt.’ Of course, these
snipes weren’t mythical. They were seventeen year old boys who by day visited
the
“Michael...”
Michael
kissed her, quickly jumping down from the porch. “Don’t worry. We’ll be
back pretty quick. They can run, but they can’t hide.”
“But...”
Michael
looked at Jesse and Jim. “You got the list?”
Jim
nodded. “We narrowed it to six, but it’s hard to say which ones are really
involved, and which ones are accessories after the fact.”
“Bring
them all in. We’ll weed them out.” Michael said with relish. Maria bit her
lip at the almost feral gleam in her husband’s eyes. Oh, this couldn’t be
good. She watched as the hunting parties went off to round up six young men,
unsuspecting that their days as pranksters were numbered. Payback usually came
hard.
“Well
damn,” said Maria to herself as they left. “I should’ve known better.”
Maria unconsciously stroked her stomach. Michael wasn’t going to let this go.
There was a reason that people in town kept him slightly apart, almost held in
awe. He scared them. It was more than his reputation from youth, but rather his
uncanny manner of seeing through them, beyond them, and yet, not missing a
minute detail without effort. “Don’t worry sweetie, Daddy isn’t really
mean. He’s just misunderstood. He won’t hurt them. I’m sure he won’t.”
Maria sighed. “I better go order some pizza.”
~~~
Maria
watched in dismay. They were having too much fun. The older men had not only
captured the pranksters, but had them in Michael and Maria’s living room with
hoods over their heads. They didn’t know where they were.
“Maybe
we should take them to the PD, process them, put them in a lineup?” Jim
suggested. He raised an eyebrow at a suggested darkness around Brian Carlson’s
crotch. His cousin, Jimmy Wilson didn’t look any better the worse for wear. It
was Roger Miles that bothered him. The boy was calm and almost belligerent. Him
and his best friend Charlie Wilcox. They treated it like a joke. The other two
boys were on the same basketball squad as the others, but it was uncertain
whether Lyle Peterson and Mark Hennessey had anything to do with it.
Michael
nodded to his crew members to remove the hoods. “No, let’s do it here.”
The boys blinked owlishly and seemed shocked to see where they were, facing
Michael Guerin.
“Boys,”
Michael said with a nasty smile. “It seems someone decided to leave a present
on the Ramirez porch this evening. A baby alligator.” The boys all seemed to
squirm. Lyle and Mark were both sweating and licking their lips nervously.
“Normally, I wouldn’t concern myself too much with this, but since my wife
almost stepped on it and fell down the stairs, I decided it did concern me.”
Roger
quickly looked over at Maria who was sitting quietly in a large comfortable
chair. “God, Mrs. Guerin, we never meant…” Charlie Wilcox gave Roger a
cold stare which quickly shut the young man up. The other boys looked at Michael
nervously. There were rumors about Michael Guerin. Rumors around the high school
about how he killed a man once. Lyle started crying.
Michael
looked over at Maria. He could still see the slight bump on her forehead from
where her head and hit his chin on the way down. Maria tipped her head and
raised an eyebrow. It was Michael’s party, she wasn’t going to interfere.
It
didn’t take long. Intimidation ate through the calm demeanor, and it was
confirmed that Roger and Charley were the main instigators. Charlie’s cousin
Billy Dupree from
Judgment
and punishment was swift as their parents were called and the Sheriff assigned
them to public cleaning duty of the local Town Hall’s grounds over the next
two weeks. A little window cleaning, lawn mowing, and trash pickup of the
town’s parks seemed ample punishment including having to mow the lawns of all
their victims. The only parent that wasn’t in agreement was Vera Miles,
Roger’s mother who refused to believe her son did anything wrong and felt he
was being unfairly prosecuted.
Gillian
Weathers, the head of the Lady’s Auxiliary and
“Mrs.
Guerin?”
Maria
opened an eye to look Lyle, Brian, Billy, and Mark. “I’m sorry. I’m tired.
Did you boys want some more pizza or a soda?
Brian
was obviously the spokesman. “We just wanted to say we’re terribly sorry. We
never meant for anyone to get hurt.” The young man stared at Maria, his eyes
kept going to the slight bump on her head.
“I
realize that. Boys will be boys,” Maria looked over at her overgrown husband,
“and some remain boys for a real long time.”
Mark
seemed painfully shy, and he seemed to gulp a lot. “We’d never do anything
to harm you or your baby.”
Maria
smiled kindly. Well damn. The fun of a small town. Even the high school students
knew she was knocked up. No doubt they were curious about Michael's future
fatherhood. Maria missed the shuffling of feet, and the blushes. Michael rolled
his eyes. Another group of raging hormonal boys were lost to Maria DeLuca's
charm. A woman like Isabel they couldn’t even talk to, and Maria sent them all
blabbering about, shuffling and hawing.
Oh
punishment. That sweet reward. They were sentenced, but their punishment was far
from over. Isabel arrived. The boys almost fainted at Maria’s feet.
Life’s
little rewards. There is so much humor in everyday living, and rarely do people
notice how comical their lives are, like some satirical play put on for the few.
That is my life most the time. Or I should say, my life with my assistant.
I’ve come to recognize that at times I can read her like a book, and at other
times, she is a mystery so complex that even after a lifetime of observation, I
have barely decided the true color of her eyes.
I
deem that the ever rotating feminine
mystique. Yeah, she is utterly insane. Certifiable. Unflappable. Deranged.
If I
really stop and think about, I come to realize that I never stood a chance.
Always when we were young it felt like she was the one drawn into the alien suck
zone, struggling just to hold her head above water. Time. Experience. Lots of
inner reflection. I have come to understand that it was I that was sucked into
the DeLuca triangle. Against my will, I found myself intrigued and entranced by
her. She was like something completely foreign, the direct opposite, and in that
polarity I found an unshakeable fascination. I never stood a chance. And I’ve
never been happier.
“You’ve
got to help me.”
Michael grunted and yelled up to a worker on the
roof. “Hey! Tell the guys on the other side to mark any electrical wire. These
old houses have strange wiring.”
“Michael.”
Sighing, Michael wiped the sweat off his brow. He
critically looked his unhappy wife over. She looked incredible. Her shiny blonde
hair was just past her shoulders and it swung in a fringe. Her luminous green
eyes were bright and alive, emphasizing the redness of her incredible lips as
they pouted and whined. No one whined like Maria.
Michael groaned. Hell, she looked good enough to
fuck. Shit. Michael rubbed his eyes. Insanity. His house was swarming with
workers on the roof, and she was dressed to go out. He was hot. She was hot. She
was making him hotter. All he could think about was their bedroom, cool sheets,
and hot sweaty sex.
Insanity.
“Why’d you promise?”
Maria moved around, frustrated, her hands moving
dramatically. “Why? Because I’m crazy!” Michael smiled. See. His powers of
observation were rubbing off on her. She was crazy. “I used to not be this
way, but this pregnancy is making my brain melt. I’m overly emotional. Easily
led astray. I was shanghaied. That’s the only explanation. That or a brain
tumor.” Maria stuck out her tongue. “Quick, tell me if the area under my
tongue is discolored.”
Michael shifted on his feet, readjusting himself.
Like he wasn’t uncomfortable enough? Now this! “I swear, Maria, if you show
me your tongue, I won’t be responsible.”
Maria stopped, biting the side of her lip.
“Getting you excited, Spaceboy?”
“Stop it. I have work.”
Maria tapped him on the chest. “So do I! That’s
my point. I should be finishing up the
“Then tell her no. Simple.”
Maria snorted. “Oh, says you. You’re almost the
only person who has ever successfully told her no. My mother will disown me for
this! They tossed her out over ten years ago and she vowed to never return. She
expects me, her only daughter, to uphold her decisions. Follow in her
footsteps.”
“Dammit, Maria. It’s only the Lady’s
Auxiliary.”
“Only? Only? Is Hell just a place? No!”
Maria squeaked in horror. “Oh God! There’s Isabel!”
There’s Isabel. Well that phrase just threw cold water on
the coals. “God, Maria, I’m too young to become impotent.”
Maria smiled at Isabel and whoo-hoo’d back as she
pinched her husband. “Be nice.” Michael snorted. “You should bury the
hatchet with her.”
“Bury
the hatchet? She would put it in my head.” His and Isabel’s relationship had
been rocky ever since Isabel learned she couldn’t have children. It wasn’t
that she really blamed Michael for healing her, but at times she felt the need
to place blame somewhere, and it tended to find itself showered on Michael. When
Isabel found out about the pregnancy, things took a huge right turn from bad to
worse. “You shouldn’t have let her talk you into going with her.”
“I’m weak! I know that! She was all maudlin over
Simon, upset, and she broke my resolve. I don’t even know how it happened. One
minute, there I was, sane Maria, talking about things. The next? I was insano
girl promising to go the Auxiliary meeting.”
Michael laughed, hooking his sweaty arm around her
center, pulling her close. Leaning in, he whispered, “Keep insano girl around.
We’ll take her out to play when you get back.”
Maria’s arm went around his neck and she leaned
into a kiss. “Oh, my hot and sweaty husband.”
“I know how my sweat makes you all happy.”
“It does,” she whispered as Isabel’s irritated
voice rose, calling to her to get moving. They were going to be late.
Michael purposely ignored Isabel and kissed Maria
again, really getting into it. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t quite dead yet. It was
the hooting and catcalls from above that had Maria looking up.
“Audience.”
Michael smirked. “They’re used to it.” Maria
laughed and gave him another quick kiss.
“Keep your cell on. I might have to call you to
come rescue me.”
Maria walked away to the continuing whistles and
suggestions from their workers. Waving at them, she hoped her dress wasn’t
stuffed in her panties from behind, but she had too much pride to double check.
“About time,” said Isabel sourly.
~~~
Blah, blah, blah. The meeting was a bore. Community
calendar. Cookbook committee. Annual Fall Dance. Maria had a hard time staying
upright. There were spots in front of her eyes. It took a few moments to realize
it was Daisy Mae’s polka dot dress. The day was long. It was hot, and she
needed a damn nap. She did offer to organize a protest march against the
Lady’s Auxiliary, but no one seemed hot on the idea. Served her right. Let
that be a lesson to her for trying to take an active interest in her community.
Betsy Taylor moved towards the Women’s loo for the
third time. Isabel was shifting uncomfortably next to her. Damn. It was her
fault that the damn meeting was so boring; Isabel willingly came to them. Maria
sat up a little as she noticed more and more of the women heading to the
bathroom.
“Isabel...”
“Not now, Maria! I’ve got to….Oh!” Isabel
was gone, literally knocking Tammy Lee over. Vera Miles was arguing with Gillian
Weathers. The entire baby alligator incident was still a contention. The Mayor
looked like shit. She was turning an interesting shade of green. Maybe it was
chartreuse.
Maria stood up and looked around at the women of the
Roswell Lady’s Auxiliary. They all appeared to be in distress as they ran to
the bathroom.
~~~
Michael scowled at the sound of his phone. Putting
down his roofing hammer, he reached for the infernal machine. “What?!”
“I need you.”
Michael stood up. “Where are you?”
“
“Maria...”
“It’s not me. I’m fine. Can you come?”
“On my way.” Michael quickly tossed his tools to
one of his workers. “Steve, can you make sure everything gets put away if
I’m not back soon? I put some cold ones in the refrigerator, so you take the
boys inside, let them cool down and have a few. Call me if you have any
problems.”
“You got it, boss.” Steve hit Michael on the
shoulder. “Is it Maria? Is she okay?”
“Is Maria ever okay?”
Steve laughed. No. Not really. She always found
trouble. That little mite of a woman kept his boss on his feet. Perhaps that was
the secret of success in their relationship, neither kept still long enough to
get bored.
~~~
Michael entered the empty hall with Jim Valenti. The
place was a disaster of overturned chairs and evidence of chaos. Maria hadn’t
been sick, but Isabel had. Maria had gone with her to the hospital along with
over eighty percent of the rest of the Auxiliary.
Food poisoning. Or so they thought.
The moment Michael walked through the Emergency Room
doors, Maria stood up. He hurried to her side, hugging her close, his hand
resting low on her stomach.
“You okay?”
Maria nodded. “We both are.” She licked her
mouth nervously. “I called Jim. Michael, I think the Auxiliary was
poisoned.”
That was how he got back to the Hall with Jim. They
were looking over the potential crime scene. Jim sighed. Damn. Where to start?
One thing about the Women’s meeting was it was always accompanied by lots of
food.
“It’s going to take forever to get all of this
tested.”
Michael looked at the buffet table. His eyes noted
all the unhealthy foods full of sugars, fats, and salt. Dammit. He should’ve
never let Maria go. She probably gorged herself on the treats.
“Start with the coffee. Ignore the food.”
Jim looked at Michael, impressed, but confused.
“Why? There is a lot of food here, and lots of it has mayo. Mayo is notorious
for going bad.”
“Maria. She didn’t get sick. I can guarantee you
that if Maria was in this room with this buffet, she ate a little, or a lot of
everything. She is starving 24/7. The coffee is caffeinated. As much as she
would love some, she wouldn’t touch it. Start with the coffee.”
“Who would poison coffee?”
“Someone who didn’t get sick.”
The
poisoning was industrial cleaner with a drug close to atropine tincture and a
touch of cyanide. Luckily it had been diluted in the coffee, or the effects
would have been more costly. Human life.
When
does a joke become more? Vera Miles assured the Sheriff that she was only
joking, not meaning any real harm. Her fingerprints were all over the coffee
carafe, and they found the poison in her car.
Vera
never forgave the punishment of her son. It had been a humiliation. She targeted
the Mayor, but getting others who had a hand in her son’s punishment was mere
icing to a cake. As a result, the victims of her son’s prank soon found
themselves further victimized by the mother. What started out as a simple joke
soon became entangled into something much more serious.
Finding
Vera Miles and her act of malfeasance was as simple as first knowing it was the
coffee. Vera Miles was the committee head for refreshments, and the coffee had
to have been poisoned before it was brought out to the buffet line. Of all the
other women on the refreshment committee, Vera was the only one that didn’t
get sick.
So in
good investigative technique, the first questions are often the more important
ones. It narrows the field, gives it focus, and channels it to a possible
solution. The question for the poisoning was why wasn’t Maria sick. That led
to the coffee. Once the coffee narrowed the field, it was only a matter of
discerning who had access. In a natural procession of understanding, it follows
like night and day.
There
is no perfect crime. All crime has a solution. The only possible perfect crime
is one that is committed without thought, without malice, and completely
anonymous. If you know your victim, then somewhere along the way, you left a
fingerprint.
Maria’s
head was resting in his lap. He was watching a game with the sound off, showing
only closed captioning. Maria was reading a book to him out loud. Leaning back
on the sofa, it was nice to relax and let the world wash away.
Places.
Inside. Outside. Around.
People find places. Rooms. Mental and real ones that
hold them in comfort. Maria and Michael had a sort of small room in their house.
It was wall to wall bookshelves, and they started collecting the books they
liked to read. Michael added the first book. James Joyce’s Ulysses. Maria had
included children’s books that her mother gave them, numerous best sellers,
both fiction and non-fiction. There were ‘How To’ books. Books on
agriculture, construction, and the history of flight. Eclectic. Their library
was as diverse as they were. In that small room, they had a television. They
would watch television and read. The room was cluttered, comfortable, and
completely their place.
Living with the World’s Greatest Alien
Investigator was no easy task. The outside world found ways to intervene,
interrupt the simplest of evenings. So their room was their retreat from the big
world outside that kept threatening to get smaller and smaller.
“Don’t answer that,” said Maria when they
heard the knock on the kitchen door.
Michael reached down and kissed the top of her head.
It was raining. Their new roof was complete. She was pregnant. She was healthy,
and they were together. It was a no brainer.
“Okay.” Michael moved further into the cushions
of the sofa, snuggling with Maria as she continued to read. They were almost
through the new Harry Potter book. It wasn’t his turn to read until the next
chapter. Maria was slowly reading and munching on carrot sticks that Michael
made her. She hated them, because they weren’t spicy or sweet, or even have
essential salt. But, she loved him, so she ate them anyway.
Decisions.
Life is about making them. Obviously, people make conscious and unconscious
decisions everyday, whether it be to ignore that knock at the door, or to leave
a baby alligator on someone’s doorstep. Some decisions are more costly than
others. Some make no difference to the world but can make a deep impact on the
person making that decision. So as I close the door on my latest case, which I
like to term ‘The Case of the Strong Poisoning of the Lady’s Auxiliary That
Started With A Baby Alligator’ but have shortened to ‘The Case of the Strong
Poisoning of the Lady’s Auxiliary’ so my assistant won’t complain about
the length, and to save paper, I realize how important my own special places are
to me.
For
me, my place is wherever my assistant is, and it extends from me to her, in a
radius of a few good feet. I like that space to be free of other people, and
definitely of baby alligators. Caught in our special place we created for
ourselves, I made the conscious decision to ignore the knock at the door.
I
missed Max Evans walking away in the rain.
There
are people out there that every day struggle to find their place. Max is one of
those people. He thought he knew where it was, and recently he has had reason to
doubt. I don’t know what would’ve come of my opening that door, and mine and
Maria’s life to Max that night. Selfish as it may seem, sometimes, you can’t
share, not even with a brother in need. I can’t use my skills in building to
create Max his place. Maria can’t design a new face, to whitewash what is
hiding in the holes in Max’s life. Max needs to do that himself, and though we
didn’t open our lives to him at that time, or that moment, we will. Tomorrow
is another day. Another case.
TBC: The Case of the Conductor’s Keys and the Deadhead that Split East and West