HALSPEARfeltirritationatthesound
ofa knockonhisdoor.“Thenewsis
abouttostart,”hethought.It was
a muchlovedpartofhisSaturday
morningroutine:outofbedtomake
a cupofteaandlistentothe08h00
ontheradio.Allthatwasindangerof
beingruinednow.
AtthedoorHalwasgreetedbya slick,
middle-agedmanina creamsuit.A
badgesaying‘Frederick’waspinnedto
hislapel.
“Whatareyougoingtodowhenyou
die?”themanasked,hisperfect teeth
glintingashesmiled.
“Excuseme?”Halasked.
Quickasa flash,Frederickbegan
gushinga millionwordsa minute
aboutthelifeinsurancepolicyhewas
sellingandhowno-oneshouldlive
withoutit.
Whenit becameclearthiswasjust
anotherannoyingsalesman,Hal
simplyshookhishead.“No,thank
you,”hesaid,closingthedoor.
Thankfully,thekettlehad
alreadyboiledandHalsipped
histeaasheturnedonthe
radio.
Then,halfwayintothe
broadcast,everythingwent
dead.Halgotup,flickedhis
lightswitcha coupleoftimes
nothing.Theelectricitywaso
After 10 minutesofhopingthepower
wouldcomebackon,Haldecidedto
giveupandwalkintotownwhere
he’dtreathimselftobreakfastathis
favouritecafe.
Butwhenhewalkedoutintothe
corridor,hesawFredericklyingina
poolofblood,a shortwaydownfrom
Hal’sflat.
Lookingattheamountofblood,
Halguessedsomeonehadbumped
poorFrederickoffonlya minuteor
twoafterhe’dtriedtosellHallife
insurance.
Theironyofit allwastoomuch.
Halcalledthepolice,who
arrived promptly.
AnInspectorRhodes
arrived,andafter
knockingon
doorshelearnt
thatonlythree
otherresidents
werehome:Hal’sneighbo
bothsides, 8
oldWilfred,
headmaster,
a garbageco
who,likeHal,was
enjoyinghisdayoff,
plustheefficient
Ursula,headofthe
bodycorporate,who
livedattheendofthe
corridor.
“Terriblebusiness,”
Wilfredgrumbled.
“Andnoneofit would
havebeencaughton
CCTVbecauseofthe
blackout.”
Ursulasighed.“I was
tryingtogetthepowe
back.I wasonmy
mobiletryingtoget
someanswers,right
untilyouknocked.Yo
cancheckwiththe
electricitycompany.”
ectorRhodesaske
desHal,didany
u actuallymeeto
eeFrederick?”
arsshookhishea
“Didn’theara
peep.I was
eningtothenew
ontheradio––I was
gluedtothelocalspo
bulletin.If therewasa
knockatmydoor,I di
heara thing,”hesaid.
“Youandyoursport,”
Ursulasaidwitha smi
beforeexplainingthat
she’donlyseenFrede
knockonWilfred’sdo
beforehewouldhave
toHal’s.
“Hewasjusta typical
salesman––I suspecth
havesoldhisownmo
if hethoughthecould
a profit,”Wilfredsaid
InspectorRhodesmad
notesbutHal,who’d
beenlisteningclosely
thethreesuspects,fe
theneedtointerrupt.
couldsolve this case q
quickly.FICTION
B Answer:CHRISWho
KilledFrederick?
A. Wilfred
B. Lars
C. Ursula Answer:
B: LARSF
ANCYyourselfthenextSherlockHolmes?Haveaneye
fordetailanda nosethatcandetecta lie?Thenthese
fictionalcasesarejustupyouralley.Wepresenttoyou
fourinstancesofmurdermostfoul;paycloseattentionto
thecharactersandwhattheysay– somewhereintherewillbethe
keytosolvingthemystery!TIME to sleuth for the truth!
Death
PRIVATEinvestigatorHalSpearope
penedd
upthemorning’spaperape andbreathedd
inthescentofafrreshlyprintedpr edition
stillwarmfromthepress.Biddy’sBi Bingo
Battlewassplashhedacrosstheffrontont
page.
“Mustbeaslownewsday,”hedrawdrawled,
flickingforwardtothecrypticcrosswsword.
Hewonderedifhecouldcomplplete
today’sinhisusual^20 minuminutes.
Halwasonhiswwaytotheofficeofo City
ScenetohelppuuteditorMervveTullock’s
mindatease.HeanddHalH haddbeen
friendssinceuniversity––theyth were
realstudentradicals,protestingagainst
anythingandeverything.
“I’vegotasneakingsuspiciononeof
my
reportersisdoingthedirty,”Mervesaid.
“Allourbestyarnsendupintheother
rag,CitySpotlight.Ithinkthere’samole
amongstus.”
Indisguiseasafreelancewriter,Halhad
agreedtoarriveintheearlymorning
whenonlyMerveandtheother
journalistswereintheoffice.Thatway
hecouldreallygetafeelforwhatwas
goingonand,hopefully,haveeverything
wrappedupbylunchtime.
Asheenteredthenewspaperoffice,he
wasgreetedbyMervewhoslappedhim
onthebackandintroducedhimtothe
otherreporters:DorothyBaker,who
coveredcrime–“Delightedtomeetyou,”
shesaid,lookingathimsuspiciously;
ChrisCollins,thenewsandpoliticswriter- “Nooneout-scoopsme,”hemuttered
intoasteamingmug;andSandra
Humphreys,whowasinchargeofsport,
andappearedmoreinterestedinthe
mobilephonesheclutchedprotectively.
Noneofthethreewentoutoftheirway
tomakeeyecontact,letalonecrack
asmileorevenshakeHal’shand.He
guessedpoorMervemustbehardup
for
writerstostickwiththislot.
“Let’sgetyoustarted,”Mervesaid.
Takinghisfreshcupoftea,Mervegulped
itdownasthoughhe’djustbeenwalking
throughadesert.
“I’dlikeyoutointerviewPastorJeffreys
aboutthatscandallastweek–”he
began,beforedroppingtothefloor
with
analarmingthud.
Hal put his fingers on Merve’s wrist.
NNopulsulse.Hisoldfriendwasdead.
Theethreewritersrushedshe overtosee
whatw hadhappenned.
HalpickeduppMMerve’scupc andsniffed.
“Aclassicssiccaseofpoisonining,”hesaid,
brbreathinginthethescencentofcyanide.c
“Anyoneon ofyoucould’veslipped
somethethingintohistea.Gotanythingto
sasaytome??”heasked.
Dorotothyfumeddindignantly,indg “Absolutely
not!I’vespspentenoughofofmylifein
criminalcouurts‒doyouthinkth I’mthat
stupid?Besiddes,Iwasasiintheladys’room
paintingmynailsilswhenw Mervewent
tothekitchenette.Look–they’restill
fresh,”shesaid,flashingherfuchsia-
colourednails.
Chrisfurrowedhisbrow.“That’stypical.
Glamourpusshereisoffmakingherself
prettywhileI’mbreakingthenews,”he
grumbled.“WheredoyouthinkIwas?
Iwasatmydeskhere,haven’tbudged
sinceIgotin.Iwaschasingdowna
crackingyarnaboutan80-year-oldbloke
whosurvivedasnakebiteonholiday
inNewZealand.Shouldmakethefront
page–notlikethesportsection.We
allknowthere’sagoodreasonwhyit’s
permanentlyattheback.”
Sandralookednonplussed.“Atleast
IgotatickettoRio,”shesaidcalmly,
inbetweentypingtextmessages.“IfI
hadn’tgonetotheOlympics,Inever
wouldhavemetmyPedro.Ihaven’t
movedfrommydeskallmorning.I
wassearchingforflightssoIcangeta
gooddealfornextyear’sRioCarnival.
PedrothinksI’dmakeaveryrespectable
CarmenMiranda.”
Dorothylookedoffended.“Butyoudon’t
evenwearmake-up!”
BeforeSandrahadthechancetoreply,
Merve’ssecretary,JosieVoight,entered
theroom,aghastatthesightbeforeher.
“I’mcallingthepolice!” Josie cried.
“Byallmeans,”
Halreplied.
“I’mlooking
forwardto
tellingthem
exactlywho
killedyour
boss.”Who Killed
Merve
Tullock?
A. Dorothy
B. Chris
C. SandraFOR SALE
FATALFATA
adlineadline