Gleaming Waters of Suspense

Chapter 2: And Then There Was One Less Person who was currently alive

In the morning Martin Johnson was dead. I couldn't believe some one so important was gone. Martin was like a brother to me. He was found slumped over a table next to a box of flowers that he happened to be deathly allergic to, and a note lying next to him, on closer inspection it was found to be page torn out of my stolen poetry book with certain lines scratched out and rewritten. The page read:

"Roses are red
Violets are blue
Martin is dead
And so will you".

Although the poem sounded like it was written by a three year old five hours past nap time, but those toddler ramblings were enough to give me a deep feeling of fear from within me. I needed a cold hard drink, but I wasn't sure if that whole "Prohibition" thing was still going on. Laws are just changing all the time and it's hard to keep up with them, so I played it safe and decided to skip out on the drink. I needed to continue on the investigation, because it just became about a lot more than a stolen poetry book (although it still would be nice to get that back too).

To honor Martin we decided to give him a Viking funeral, sending him out to sea with life boat on fire.He wasn't a Viking or anything, but members of the crew were quick to tell me he wanted to be burned with all his belongings. In hindsight I realize we just burned all the evidence of his murder and got rid of the only lifeboat on the entire ship, but I guess Martin deserved it.

I had to get back to the investigation although now there was no way to look for finger evidence because the box of flowers and many other items on the scene were burned in his funeral boat.

On my way to the main deck to interrogate, I found Mrs. Dickenson anf felt obliged to greet her "Hello Mrs. Dickenson.". She replied with "How is the investigation going, I hope you haven't had too much of a hard time finding evidence!". It sounded like she was mocking me, but only as a joke, mocking me as a a joke if you will, or rather, jokingly-mocking me. I thought nothing of it as I walked up to the deck. This mystery was getting deeper and I had to find who was holding the shovel. Even if it meant getting my hands a little dirty, so I could wash them later. It was time for some hard investigating, or my name wasn't Private-Eye Buck McSly!