Singing Loudly

[Episode 4 is here]

"What we have here is a short list of clues that hopefully'll lead us to the murderer of Ms. DiDi Stuart," Sheriff Joseph Mundle announced to his five deputies, including his son Martin Mundle - all of whom were seated in the debriefing room of the Glenedin County Sheriff's office. "'Less, of course, they're all a bunch of those red fish thangs, which case we'll prob'ly come to the conclusion that the killer's a pile of manure o'er at the Ole Walsh Place."

The Sheriff's audience erupted into a small fit of chuckles. As usual, Martin joined the laughter last; he ceased only after realizing that everyone else had already stopped (and that his father was giving him the look).

Before continuing, Sheriff Mundle pulled down a projector screen, and Martin flipped on an ancient slide projector. The first slide shown was of DiDi Stuart's body as it was found. (Since the Sheriff's office lacked a decent photographer, Jimmy Flavor provided the slides, courtesy of The Rumpus Recorder.) "Now most likely Ms. Stuart's killer was summun she knew or summun she weren't afraid of. She was dressed like she was expectin' to see somebody she wanted to impress. The killer seems to've caught 'er by su'prise 'cause she didn't run fer 'er life 'n' she didn't seem to be beggin' on 'er knees fer 'er life neither. This was inferred from the way she fell. Thar are grass stains on 'er jacket 'n' skirt that fer-ens-ick-al-ly prove that she fell from a standin' position."

"Why was she all gussied up? Was she on 'er way to a dinner date? The coroner's report says the time of death was aproximately 8:30 p.m. on September 12. Was she on her way back from somethin'? Was she keepin' romantic relations wi' the killer? Was she interviewin' the killer? Let's not forget that she was first 'n' foremost a cutthroat TV reporter." Sheriff Mundle then pulled out a plastic baggie with an opened package of microcassettes with one out of the four cassettes missing.

"These blank micro-cassettes were found in the inside pocket of 'er jacket. She may've been ready to conduct an interview, but no tape recorder was found on 'er person or in 'er ve-hickle. One of the four cassettes from this set has been used. The only fingerprints on the package are Ms. Stuart's.

"Ms. Stuart may've been carryin' a purse or a handbag as women off-ten do, but no handbag was found on 'er person or in 'er ve-hickle - this suggests that she may've been murdered by a robber.

"However, if that's the case, why didn't they take 'er ve-hickle as well? Next slide please, Marty." A slide of Ms. Stuart's Ferrari appeared, and four of the deputies Ooooh-ed and Aaaaah-ed.

"Ms. Stuart's Ferrari was found less then a half-mile from the crime scene o'er by the abandoned Popper toaster factory. She was prob'ly holdin' the keys in 'er right hand, 'n' the killer seems to 've ripped the keys out of 'er hand, breakin' two of 'er well-taken-care-of nails in the process." Without prompting, Martin brought up the next slide.

Once the deputies' outraged ghasts at the sight of Ms. Stuart's damaged manicure had subsided, Sheriff Mundle began his delivery again, "Now who are suspects fer Ms. Stuart's murder? Contrery to Mr. Dennis Rogers' eulogy earlier this afternoon, Ms. Stuart was not well-liked by anyone, except as the subject of a few teenage boys' wet dreams." At that, Martin Mundle blushed and hid his face; fortunately, none of the others in the room noticed.

"Why, in Rumpus alone, Ms. Stuart probably had 30 or 40 enemies. Samantha Rogers-Flavor, for starters, regarded DiDi Stuart as her nem'sis. I can't tell you how many times Sam has come into my office ahootin' an' ahollarin 'bout how that 'Stuart hag' stole her beat again. I don't think Sam is capable of killin' anybody even though she can get meaner then a wildcat at times.

"Dennis Rogers, the producer of Ms. Stuart's show Your Big News, hinted that he thought the murderer could have been my brother-in-law Erik Derrik Brawn, Sr.

"Evidently, Ms. Stuart was preparin' a rather embarressin' ex-pos-ay on the old bastard. It's well known that he runs this town, 'nd if anyone is capable of having anybody killed it's 'im. However, the old man himself is too weak to even pull the trigger on a gun, much less hold a gun level enough to shoot a woman as tall as Ms. Stuart in the neck. (She stood at 5 feet, 11 inches in them heels.) I'll send one of you o'er to talk to my wife's brother nonetheless.

"Of course, Mr. Rogers could've been sayin' that just to throw the track of himself. He prob'ly hated 'er more than anybody; he had to work wi' the evil bitch afterall, but if we use that reasonin,' then I reckon we'd have to im-pli-cate Ms. Stuart's husband Bradley Stone, too. He could've had a contract put out on 'er head so that he could collect double in-demn-i-ty on her already pricey life. We know that he could not have killed her himself since he was in Switzerlan.' Right now we've nothing that connects either of those two to the murder so we'll let them sit on the backburner fer now.

"The last person seen wit' Ms. Stuart was that car salesman Rembrandt RouŽ#233, 'n' I am going to drive o'er to his dealership to let 'im do a lil' bit o' talkin.' That is all fer now."