Worse than confucious...

Dear Couch,

Hi?

Can i sit here? Where no one can dsturb me or my thoughts? Can I let my thoughts wander off?

Fly thoughts, fly! Be free.

Here is the result of a wandering mind. A mind with no direction. A mind with 'clouded' judgement.

It's a short mystery story. A mystery that had me mystified too.

________

BANG!

Being so close to the highway one could not tell if it was a tyre burst or a gunshot. But if you were one of wisdom you could easily distinguish between the two. Only problem was, it was both. A tyre burst and a gunshot.

Coincidence? The shallow-minded would have thought so. But for Inspector Dick Jesse this was no coincidence. Because, in the middle of the road lay a notorious mobster. Knocked down by the speeding car that now lay in the bush having lost control after its tyre mysteriously burst. Or was he dead as a result of the bullet that went through his heart. Witnesses were split. Those who saw, say he was knocked down. Those who heard, insist he was shot.

To add to the mystery, the driver was a known assassin of notorious repute and he lay dead in the car. His death caused by the impact of the car, which after crashing through several saplings, finally rested snugly on the bough of the oak tree. Or did the bullet that had gone cleanly through his head cause his death? Again witnesses were confused. Those who saw, say he died on impact. Those who heard, insist he was shot.

Whoddunit? Or more intriguingly, howdtheydoit? One ‘bang’, three causes. A tyre burst and two gunshots. Two deaths. The assassin’s and the mobster’s. Four likely causes. Two bullets – one through the head, the other through the heart. And two accidents. One knockdown and one crash.

For a mere mortal it would have confused them shitless. But not for the legendary Dick Jesse. This was a simple case of observation.

In the middle of the road lay a nail. Apparently, it was put there by the mobster in the hope that should he miss his shot, the assassin would run over the nail, the tyre would burst and he’d lose control of the car and crash. The assassin’s intention on the other hand was to knock down the mobster. His would-be killer. If he was going to die, he was going to take him to hell too.

Both succeeded. Both lay dead. But who shot the mobster?

Most importantly, how did Dick Jesse know the mobster had placed the nail on the road? Was it because of the nails he found in the mobster’s coat pocket? How did Dick Jesse know of the nail’s purpose? Was it because Dick Jesse had a brilliant mind? Or was it because of the tip-off he got 30 minutes earlier?

One bush held the answer to the mystery. And only one person knew.

In a bush from whence the bullet that shot the mobster came from were prints that would have solved the missing part of the mystery. Now the owner of those prints was seated in a brand new Toyota.

And that was that. Dick Jesse declared it a dead case. Now he was seated comfortably in a new Toyota happily puffing on a Cuban cigar. He had managed to get rid of the two headaches in his career in one sitting. The notorious mobster and the merciless assassin. And without anyone knowing.

Except of course, for the one who financed the whole deal. The one who sat in the back seat of Dick Jesse’s car laughing. King Din. Dick Jesse was also laughing as he pulled off his face. Underneath was the face of King Din’s top hit man, Smiles.

So where was Dick Jesse?

Just before the accident, Dick Jesse had walked out of his precinct office in protest. He had tendered his resignation and was planning to retire to the mountains. Where no one would miss him. And they didn’t.

The car that crashed into the oak tree suddenly exploded. It would be weeks before another detective, as keen as the legendary Dick Jesse, would discover another charred skeleton in the trunk.

Case closed.

______

I'll accept the pulitzer now.

I laugh hysterically.

Later Couch ol pal, the weed levels have gone low.

Thanks.