No Other Witnesses

'There's no other witnesses, just us two.'

With such an unintelligible statement, I knew once again I was on my own to solve this mystery. From the chalk outline of the body, I noticed a pattern of large dark footprints along the carpet, ending exactly in the middle of the wall. A rope dangled from the ceiling, far too high for anyone to reach. I rubbed my forehead and leaned into the rest of the room like an ostrich needing a chiropractor.

'Poor James was just here. Now he's gone. He must be somewhere else.'

The ceiling lights shone conveniently on my partner, a tiny man wearing a sweater and jeans much too baggy for him. He was hiding in the corner, like he was the first ever chameleon-human hybrid. He tried to make himself look more comfortable, but his body language screamed that he wasn't supposed to be here.

'I wasn't supposed to be here.' He repeated the words, nibbling his nails once spoken.

Naturally I wasn't interested in the happenstance, much more in the happenings. I asked for his memory and he remembered as much as the table: the lights went out, there was a scream, and when they came back on there was Poor James, dead. In the ashtray by his chair was an unfamiliar cigarette, not the brand smoked by my old departed friend. I wandered outside onto the lawn, where I was certain to find his daughter. She was smoking and shooing away police officers, so I went off to meet her, leaving my jacket by the front door. Tall, dark haired, shiny legs and eyes that sent lasers through your soul. She watched me as I approached and I went in shields up.

'Eve. Good to see you.'

She did not smile at this and inhaled her cigarette. It was the same brand I'd seen in the ashtray.

'What do you want, Ruby. My father just died.'
'You don't seem so hung up on it.'

With a sneer, she blew smoke in my direction. I merely smiled and took a sip of my tea, kept warm in my trusty flask.

'Who left those footprints in the hallway?'

I wondered if she was about to spit at me, until her face lost its aggressive sharpness and precipitation formed in her eyes. She showed me the bottom of her shoes, caked with sand and thus not the ones that had made the incriminating marks.
 
'Did you guys see the murder? No? You? No? Okay. So.. hum. Did you guys see anything?'

I tried to forget how the department had paired me with such a slug for a partner. As a mental habit, it was easily done. I turned my attention back to the daughter, smiling at her once again. She threw her smoke away, looked in my eyes, and lit up another one. Her inhales were more deliberate than before.

'Is there a basketball team that plays nearby?'

She stared at me long and hard. Confusion, a perfect elixir for spilling truth.

'There's a pickup league. Why? You think can play?'

I grinned at her quip and mentioned the need for a jacket on such a chilly night before exiting. She watched me the whole way. I returned to the dining room, the scene of the crime. My partner followed me.

'Hey, you think it was a giant chocolate ice-cream man that committed the murder? It would make sense, what with the footprints and all. Yeah, that's obviously it. Wait, lemme start writing that down...'

I looked in the main floor closet for gym shorts. There was one enormous pair atop an old wooden chest, large enough to fit Patrick Patterson but with a stench of several abandoned farmer's markets. Still damp. Also interestingly, the fitness ensemble was consistent with the colours red and white: the shorts, workout shirt, headbands and socks. But no shoes. As far as footwear went there were only brown boots in this closet. There was nothing more for me in here.

'This is a real mind bender. Hey you want some grub, partner? The blue boys just came back from Cosmos Grill for some burgers. Ya know, help you think?'

I shooed him away and returned to the scene of the crime. The body was long removed but the footprints remained, ending exactly where the wall began. I contemplated the possibilities: secret passage? No, there would be an indentation on the wall somewhere but it was perfectly smooth. Trapdoor below? Same thing, the carpet stuck to the floor like glue, it hadn't moved since Lester Pearson was around. There was only one other direction. I looked up, and saw that tiny rope still dangling innocently from the ceiling. It was much too high for me so I moved a chair over as a step, went up and grabbed the rope. A latch in the ceiling gave way and a ladder spilled down into my hands.

'Mmmm, bacon cheese... hey? Where'd that come from?'

With my weaker hand I climbed up the ladder, my stronger hand caressing the pistol in my pocket. It was dark so I slipped in as quietly as possible, ducking behind a crate just as some commotion started around me. Long, large footsteps vibrated towards my direction and I had my pistol ready, in case of the worst. The vibration stopped, apparently confused, and pulled the latch closed again. I heard a complaint about stupid old houses and I emerged, a flashlight in one hand and my pistol in the other.

'It's over. We've got you.'

He turned and looked down at me in the artificial handheld light, and I do mean looked down. This was a giant of a man, ducking under the ceiling of this attic with extreme discomfort. His shoes were covered in mud but beneath the grime I could identify that they were red and white. He scowled at me but obeyed when I ordered him to reopen the secret door. I went down first, beckoning him to follow, while four constables stared up at me in surprise. The chief arrived just as my large friend touched the floor and was put in five pairs of handcuffs.

'Well done, apprehending this clever villain. The moment we left the scene he would've surely fled and never been seen again. Sorry to say the daughter escaped once our boys moved inside, but we've got a bulletin out on her. Excellent work Blarnt, Ruby. A commendation to both of you.'
'Aw, tanks cheef!' My partner mumbled through a mouthful of processed cheese.

I stood aside and watched the boys carry this giant away. He shot me a look like we'd meet again some day. I was certain we would.