Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Riddle 14

There were five customers who went to the bathroom around the time of the murder, three men and two women. The bathrooms were unisex, as having only one set of a bathrooms save a lot of money and space. We got them all to sit down at a table so we could quickly answer their questions. Cheri and Nazo were standing off to the distance, close enough that they could hear us yet far enough that they wouldn't be easily heard if they wanted to talk. First Dave and I started off with their names. There was Angie Fleming, the tall blonde who exuded an almost cheerleader-like aura. Laura Howard, an office worker with brown hair tied up in a bun, wire framed glasses adorned her tan face. Mike Coulter, a book author who spent a lot of his time at the bakery, apparently trying to write the next great American novel. He was a good friend of mine, often asked me what I thought of a recent chapter. His editor, Tony Flynn, a strict glasses wearing man whose head was middle of its goal to become completely bald. Finally there was a Mr. Andrew Killmeyer, the perfect personification of a business man, the type of guy I always saw on the news as the banks were collapsing. We then began to ask more... probing questions, which they responded to in the order of introduction.

"What are your occupations, and why are you here instead of your place of work?"

"I'm a waitress at a nearby bar. I heard that the cream puffs here are fantastic."

"A secretary at the Jones International Bank, I came over here on my lunch break."

"I'm writing a book right now, and I always come over here to work."

"I came over here to meet with Mr. Coulter here, as I wanted to pick up the latest copy of the manuscript and chat with him a bit."

"I'm a banker at the bank as Ms. Howard here, and I arrived here because a friend recommended the rolls here. When are we going to be let go? I have to get back to work."

"We will release you when we are done with the questioning sir. Not before, not after."

Mr. Killmeyer grunted in annoyance, obviously distraught at all the precious time that was going to be wasted trying to find a killer. I looked over at my partners and saw a very telling look from my Watson. 'He's lying' the stare said. I looked back to the banker, trying to analyze him. He seemed a little nervous, but not any more so than the other suspects here. Dave decided to continue the questioning.

"Alright, what time did you all go to the bathroom?"

Mass shrugging commenced. And our very special deputy frowned. It seemed as if no one could remember what exact time they did something that they do multiple times a day, odd. I wondered how the police knew that these people went to the bathroom at the same time as Robin, nonetheless I decided to go along with it.

"Well we are going to let you guys out now, as it will take some time for the fingerprints and other forensic stuff to finish. All you have to do is stay in the town until we clear you to go."

My jaw hit the floor in a rather metaphorical sense. I didn't believe what I was hearing, how could he possibly let them go when he only asked him a few questions. A glance of my side saw a similar reaction on Cheri's face. As they got up a hurriedly asked a rather obviously needed to be asked question.

"Did any of you know Robin?"

They all blinked simultaneously. Angie and Laura with their makeup covered eyelashes. Mike with red wet eyes, clearly eyes of sorrow. The editor and the banker just looked bothered about who know what.


"Not really."

"Yes, we knew each other quite well, as I saw him almost everyday. As you know Noah."

"I am aware of his existence and I know that he was a good man. I am sorry that he has passed away."

"Never knew the man."

I frowned at that. Only two people admitted to knowing the man and I already knew that they knew. They then walked out of the store with no obstacles. I felt a pat on the back as I was, rather forcibly, escorted out of the store, Cheri and Nazo right on my heels. We then started on our walk back to Cheri's house. When we were a decent distance away from the crime scene, we decided it was safe to speak.

"Alright, what was the first lie?"

"That man, Mr. Killmeyer, is either A) not a banker, B) his friend didn't really recommend the rolls here, or C) he didn't have to go back to work."

"It would be a lot easier if we knew what was true."

"Just be happy we have Probi here."

"Yeah yeah."

I looked over to the silent child. His face was a little grim, as if he had seen something that he wasn't prepared for. I mentally slapped my forehead. He was just a kid, even if he had predicted it, seeing a dead body in real life was an entirely different thing. He looked up to me, his face transforming into one of annoyance.


"I was just wondering if anyone lied when I asked them my question."

"The banker was lying again, but I think that the office lady was also lying."

"I see..."

Apparently the Ms. Howard hadn't lied, as the sock didn't detect it. This got me thinking. 'How did the sock define a lie? Was it if the targets heartbeat or other signs of lying. If so a trained professional could avoid it. If it was based on what the person's memories or thought, then substances that wiped out their memories would be effective. And either way half-truths would most likely work.' I resolved to test this when we got home. 'This murderer will not get away.'

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