Bogeyman Weather

“I cracked it! I finally cracked it!” shouted Dr. Gloria Phanblomb, leading light of the physics department at M___ University. Her usual dry, scientifically detached demeanor shed, but only briefly, in her moment of triumph, “Come see, Pete!” Pete Postelwharton, Gloria’s live-in barbecue adviser, heaved himself off of the couch where he’d been absorbed in a fascinating article about using a blend of pine and redwood chips instead of hickory.  “What is it now?” he said, coming down the stairs of the split-level home and into the den where a bizarre and complicated contraption blocked the patio door so that Pete had to go out the front and around the house whenever he wanted to use the grill.  In the center of the machine, the air rippled like on a hot day and beyond that, a bottomless hole spiraled off into the unknown. “I have perfected my Time Tunnel! I have opened a doorway to the year 10,000!” “Nice.” “Any minute we’ll have our first contact with the future!” ...

As I entered the study of Percival Flordigan, World’s Most Renowned Detective Ever In The History Of The World, I immediately saw that he had not moved an inch since I had left hours ago. Considering the gravity of the case we were working on, I found this shocking and did not hesitate to tell him so. “My dear friend, far be it from me to question your methods, but there is a murderer afoot, and a most prolific one at that. Yet you haven’t budged since breakfast!” He looked up from his jigsaw puzzle and said, “Nonsense. I have been to the toilet several times.” “But what of the murderer?” “Ah, Wamsbly, don’t you see? This is an extraordinary murderer which calls for an extraordinary plan of action.” “From what I’ve seen so far, I hardly think ‘action’ is the right word. What is this plan, then?” “Elementary. Eventually, the murderer will run out of victims and a simple process of elimination will reveal his identity. In fact, I’d wager even you will be able unmask him your...

“You may be wondering why I’ve gathered you here,” said Percival Flordigan, Detective Extraordinaire, pacing in front of his audience like a man inspecting his troops. Like an army man. “Is it because of the murder?” asked Lady Ambledaine Mumford. “It’s probably because of the murder,” said the Maid. “Perhaps,” said Flordigan, smiling a sly, knowing smile, “Or perhaps, it is because…one of YOU is the murderer!” The assembled crowd gasped. One of them fainted, but it was only a valet of some sort, not worth the sniff of smelling salts it would take to revive.  “Oh, yes. One of you,” continued the Detective, “Of course, we all know the means by which the ghastly crime was committed. One does not forget such a grisly scene. And, of course, also, we know who had the opportunity.” “So, this is about the murder, then,” I said. “We shall see, my dear Wamsbly,” said Flordigan, continuing, “Alas, every one of you had been alone with Colonel Mumford at some poin...

“You can be assured Lady Bramlather’s blackmail troubles are at an end, Inspector,” declared Percival Flordigan, World’s Most Renowned Detective. “Well done!” said Inspector Warmshplud, “but how?” “Simple! We all knew Doctor Debblerwessel was the culprit, as he had practically flaunted that fact right in front of us. Yet even if we had a scrap of physical evidence to this effect, he had safeguards in place that would trigger the bringing to light of the damning documents if anything were to happen to him. However, there is one small detail that every case of blackmail hinges on, one so important that no blackmail scheme can proceed without it. "And what is that, my dear fellow?” I asked, a-jitter with suspense. “Why, the victim, Wamsbly! I simply killed Lady Bramlather. Now, that scoundrel Debblerwessel’s plan can no longer bear fruit!” “Splendid!” said Inspector Warmshplud. “Quite,” I said, “But what of the fiendish Doctor?” “I killed him, too!” “Ingenious!” “A...