Three Minute Mystery
Match wits with P.I. ‘Guy’ and his
assistant,‘Ty’
Today’s episode, The Slip of the Lip
By Bill Russo -Amazon Kindle Author
The Crime: The murder of the
eccentric Mr. Silenson
The Location: An office on
the Fifth floor of the Bronson Building at the corner of Main and Charlie
Burger Streets in a suburb of Providence, Rhode Island.
Dramatis Personae:
The
P.I. - Guy Spie
Assistant
P.I. - Ty Greer
Charles Blatenknucker - Business
Associate
of deceased millionaire, Samuel Silenson
In his headquarters on the top floor of the Bronson Building, on a hill, high above
a suburb of Providence, Rhode Island; Guy Spie is preparing to tutor his
assistant Ty Greer in the art of interrogating suspects and witnesses to murder.
Guy’s latest case is the murder of the cranky old millionaire, Samuel
Silenson who was ‘bumped off’ in his palatial home.
(Editor's note: Come into the office, Dear Reader.
Take one of the seats along the wall and listen carefully, for Guy has
an appointment with the last person to see Silenson alive. You’ll need to pay
attention because you will be called upon to solve this case by matching wits
with P.I. Guy Spie.)
“Old Silenson was a taciturn and grouchy guy Ty, but he was a long term
client and I kind of liked him. I’m sorry he was murdered.”
“Do we have any suspects Chief?”
“Not yet Ty. Not yet. But we are going to be meeting shortly with Charles Blatenknucker. He is an officer of Silenson’s firm and the
last person to see the old man alive.”
“Well Guy, do you think
he knows anything about the killing?”
“So far there is not a
single clue Ty. He died as a result of
being hit in the head a number of times.
Not with an object, but with fists.
Silenson was very frail and couldn’t put up much of a fight. It didn’t take too many punches to kill him.”
“I hear someone talking to the secretary in the outer office Guy. It must be Blatenknucker. I’ll go get him and bring him in.”
A moment later Ty led
Charles Blatenknucker into Guy’s private office. The businessman was at least a foot taller
than compact Ty Greer, but he weighed at least a hundred pounds less than Ty,
who was rugged enough to pose for weightlifter magazines.
Ty directed
Blatenknucker to a chair in front of Guy’s desk. As for Guy he remained silent while he sized
up the lanky executive of the dead man’s company.
Blatenknucker was almost
seven feet tall, but rail thin. He probably weighed less than 200 pounds. Though his arms looked like strands of
spaghetti two yards long, they ended in a pair of huge, gnarled fists that
sprouted fingers that resembled the wooden shafts of claw hammers.
“It wouldn’t take more
than a few thumps from those massive mitts to club old Silenson to death,”
thought Guy. “But I have no proof. Perhaps I’ll pick up something when he
talks.”
For the first time, Guy
looked directly into the visitor’s face and spoke,
“Thankyou for coming
into the office today Mr. Blatenknucker. The authorities have asked me to look into
the case and anything you can tell us will help.
“I’m happy to help Mr.
Spie. As you know I am an officer of the
company, and I am one of the members of the Board being considered to succeed
Mr. Silenson. It’s a job I’ll accept if
offered, but I will take the chair with great sadness. He was not easy to work for, but Mr. Silenson
was a great businessman.”
‘Yes, we know that,” Ty
Greer interrupted, “what we want to know now is what you observed when you saw
him on the evening of his death.”
“Mr. Silenson contacted
me at our New York facility and told me to board the train immediately and to
meet him at his mansion in Cumberland, Rhode Island.”
“I arrived in Providence
and booked a room at the Biltmore. I
left word there that I would be at Mr. Silenson’s residence if there were any
calls for me.”
The historic Biltmore Hotel in the heart of downtown Providence. Photo by Tony Kent |
“Just after five in the
late afternoon I got to Cumberland and knocked on Mr. Silenson’s door. For some reason there were no servants
present. At least, there were none in
sight. It was getting dark. When the door opened I thought at first it
was the butler who admitted me but it was Mr. Silenson himself. He directed me
to sit at the end of a large table in his library. He sat at the other end. He informed me that I was to stay for dinner,
which would be served at eight o’clock.”
A high noon view of the Silenson Mansion in Northern Rhode Island |
“He wanted voluminous
reports of the New York operation. It
being dark, with no lights turned on, I couldn’t use anything from my
briefcase, so I had to rely on memory alone to produce the requested
information. His contribution to all
this was a series of grunts, an infrequent ‘I see’, and a few yeses and nos
dropped in on rare occasions. He rarely
spoke more than three or four words at a time to me”
“After almost two hours
of this one-sided meeting his telephone rang.
He still has land line phones, and had no desire to use smartphones or
tablets.”
“When the phone rang, he
asked me to answer it, which I did. The
call was from my wife, one of our children was suddenly taken sick, and she wanted
me to come home right away.”
“I returned to my chair
and told Mr. Silenson about the call and explained that I needed to leave right
away. He didn’t answer me. He just nodded his head.”
“On the way out, since
he still had not permitted the lights to be turned on, I bumped my head. I’ve still got the bruise as you can
see. As I got to the door he finally
spoke. He said, ‘be here in the morning
by eleven.”
“So that’s everything
Mr. Spie. May I go now?”
Guy Spie contemplating Blatenknucker's testimony |
Guy was silent for a moment - just long enough to watch a bead of sweat form on the forehead of the witness. It rolled down to his pointed nose and slid to his lantern jaw, where it rested for one second before falling to the floor.
“Yes Mr. Blatenknucker
you can go. "
"You can go straight to the
Providence County Jail, just as soon as the police come to take you away.
Remain seated and don’t make a break for it.
Ty Greer can tie you into a pretzel in three seconds if you’d care to
try.”
“Now Ty, (and you too
Dear Reader), do you know how I know that Mr. Blatenknucker is lying?”
“I'm not sure about the
readers Chief, but I don’t have a clue.”
“It’s simple Ty. Murderers take great pains in plotting a
perfect crime, but they rarely plan what to say to the authorities when they
are questioned. A slip of the lip by
Blatenknucker blew the case wide open.
Within five hours, the police will have a full confession from him and
the case will be closed.”
“I'll give you the solution in a moment. But first Ty, I want you to recall what Mr.
Silenson said when Blatenknucker told him that a family emergency required him
to leave early?”
“Wait a second Boss
while I check my notes,” Ty responded. “Oh
here it is. My notes say that
Blatenknucker told Silenson there was a family emergency and he had to leave right
away. He said Silenson didn’t answer him, he just nodded his head.”
“That’s correct Ty and
that’s how we know he lied. You will remember, I'm sure, that it
was dark. There were no lights on. Blatenknucker couldn’t even see his way out
without bumping his head. How then could
he have seen Silenson nodding his head? Guilty! He’s the guy!”
“Great job Chief. You’ve solved another case. But this doesn’t surprise me because you know
what I always say “, smiled Ty.
“No Ty, I don’t know and
I’m kind of afraid to ask, but go ahead and tell me. What do you always say?”
“A killer who makes one
slip of the lip,
to the Death House, gets
a free trip!”
“Oh Ty that’s even worse
than usual. Leave the writing to the
pros.”
“But I am the prose guy,
Guy. And that’s just how I’m going to title
this latest case of yours when I write it up for the blog. I’ll call it The Case of the Slip of the Lip.
-0-
Written by Bill Russo, author of
Ghosts of Cape Cod, Jimmy Catfish, Creature from the Bridgewater Triangle and
many other books. Available on Amazon,
Barnes and Noble, Kindle, Smashwords, Walmart (Kobo) and all major retailers
world wide. https://www.amazon.com/Ghosts-Cape-Cod-Bill-Russo-ebook/dp/B01BL1TP7U
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