I awoke this morning to a terrible scene:
Immediately I took a quick survey of the damage:
I conjured the spirit of my favorite Belgium detective… he immediately instructed me to locate the origin of the crime:
Next, I investigated the body of the victim. The injuries were severe. It seems the killer, or killers, took pleasure in their work.
With a sleuth’s eye, I took a quick look around at the suspects:
- Molly, guilty lab hiding behind the sofa, unwilling to look anyone in the eye. Despite her seemingly innocent look, she makes a living chewing everything in sight… (yesh… dat’s profiling dads, ish not good”)
- Zizek, the usual suspect, brazenly returning to the scene of the crime, a piece of cushion under his paw. As a puppy, he was nicknamed “The-Destroyer-of-All-Things,” had he returned to the days of his youth? (ya, I make da cushion perfect, no? Now it is more German?)
- Tree, who knew anything about this strange house guest? Had she chewed before? Had the Santos’ unwittingly invited a murdered into their midst? (Don’t yet have a “voice” for Tree… adding to her mystery…)
My instincts told me the truth would “emerge” in time… no dog can hold it forever, and when nature’s duty called, the Poirot in me would be there, checking for traces of cushion…stay tuned
