Riddle

A/N: Otepa is a made-up county.

As soon as he alighted his truck, Watson wiped his forehead then bent and did the same to his shoes.

"The damn God-forsaken village!" he muttered to himself.

He stared before him, at the little crowd that had gathered around the small house. He was surprised by the number of people. Never had he ever anticipated the small village of Otepa to hold such a population. Fixing his sunglasses, with a final sigh, he pushed himself through the crowd toward the house.

"Finally I was starting to think you were not coming, " His partner Sarah said.

He reached for her extended hand and shook it.

"I was not to come, " He answered, remembering previous pranks.

For a few minutes, he struggled to wear the gloves. He was too nervous, only God knows how much he missed working on such cases. It had been one year of a bore since he was transferred to Otepa. The once renowned murder detective was reduced to a mere livestock detective.

"Someone hit my diary cow..... "He grazed his cows on my farm" People flocked to his office to report such matters. He became more of a veterinarian than a detective.

"So what happened?"

"Come see for yourself," Sarah chimed.

The two police outside the door allowed them inside. Watson's eyes circled the room, everything was intact. The house smelled of fresh cinnamon, and the radio was on, with a bad reception. On the table, there was a dirty plate beside it a Nokia phone.

Who will use Nokia in 2023?

Sarah was already taking photos. He swiped his finger on the plate, it was still moist. The owner had eaten recently, latest it would be an hour.

"Let's move to the bedroom, the body is there," Sarah suggested.

The house was small inside, just as it appeared from outside. Two people could not walk at the same time along its corridor. Muffled sniffs were heard as they neared the bedroom.

"I saw three men," A soft young voice spoke.

When Watson walked in, the small boy was bent covering his face. He did not look older than ten years. His eyes surveyed the room.

"I thought you said it was murder?" He questioned Sarah after seeing a middle-aged woman hanging on from the roof.

"Since when did you start jumping to conclusions?" Sarah asked.

He walked towards the body, analyzing every detail. The rope was tied from the window through a moldy wood that supported the ceiling, then ended around her neck.

He checked around, the bed was made at the far corner. He checked where she hung, there was no stool or anything she might have stepped on before committing suicide.

"I...a...m....am... not lying I saw three men, " The boy's voice was raw and tired.

"I'll take it from there," Watson addressed the interrogating officer.

Frustrated the officer walked out of the room. Then Watson took her place.

"Hey there, what's your name?" He tried to sound hospitable.

The boy hid further in his imaginary cocoon. Watson placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, making him jump further in fear.

"A-a-ron" His voice was faint.

"It's okay, you are okay now"

Watson tried to at least sound convincing. The boy reminded him of his son, a son who never wanted to see him.

"I believe you, you are a smart boy"

The boy lifted his head for the first time. He had a slight resemblance to the woman.

" I saw three men" the boy spoke.

"Where did you see them?"

The boy pointed to where the woman hung.

"Is that your grandma'?"

The boy nodded, how could people be so cruel? Grandmothers are so sweet.

"Where were you, when you saw them?"

The boy pointed at the window, it was when Watson realized it was broken. He had always been a detailed person, how could he have not seen it?

He walked towards it, one side was broken, and the other was still intact. The rope was tied on the intact side of the window.

"Were you inside?"

The boy shook his head.

"Tell me what you saw and heard," Watson spoke interested.

The boy shivered, closed his eyes then opened them again.

"I was coming from my friend's house with my cousin, but found both the front and back doors locked"

"You live with grandma and who else? Watson asked.

"My cousin John," His voice trembled.

"Where is this cousin of yours?"

"He went to call Uncle"

He instructed Sarah to take over as he examined the doors. He was losing his touch, murder puzzles were his thing. small details such as a broken window and tampered doors were escaping his knowledge.

There was a commotion at the door. A frantic man was shouting.

"Let me in, this is my house, she is my mother or else..."

"God dammit I'll break your noses, I am also a police officer...." The man shouted again.

"Sir you can't walk in there, it's a crime scene," one of the police officers said.

The man didn't listen as he forcefully pushed himself inside.

"Let him in," Watson said.

"If I had my gun, I would blow both your brains," The man threatened.

"You said the woman is your mother, so you are Aaron's uncle?" Watson asked.

"Yeah, where is my mother?" he asked. He tiptoed, stretching his neck to see what was beyond Watson.

The man walked past Watson followed by a young boy but older than Aaron. True to the boy's statement, the doors had been broken. He took some photos.

"You need to see this," Sarah emerged.

He followed her back to the bedroom. Aaron was seated on his uncle's lap.

"Look at this, what do you see?" Sarah asked stretching her palm.

"Mud?" Watson answered still wondering what Sarah was trying to prove.

"Look at her feet, they are covered in mud, and her dress is even wet, while the house is clean and dry. Her slippers are also clean with no trace of dirt."

The slippers were just under the bed, he took them inserting them in the evidence bag.

He then zeroed his attention back to Aaron, this was a riddle and it needed a clue.

He walked towards the body which was now on the floor. He observed the marks on her neck, the furrows weren't deep. He took her hand, checking her nails, if it was murder she must have struggled. Her right hand was clean but her left hand had dirt under her nails. He took samples for further forensic analysis. She neither had bruises nor any fractures.

"Sarah, why don't you check for any footprints around the house and anything out of place"

He turned to find, the woman's son behind him.

"My mother was not suicidal, I just hope you treat this as a murder investigation" he spoke.

Watson opted for silence for that moment. He didn't want to promise anything.

The man sat again, cuddling Aaron, blinked severally, shook his head, and clicked his tongue.

"If I knew this was to happen, I could not have said those words"

The man sucked his breath, tapped his fingers on his knee.

"She called me from the city, I came immediately only to realize she needed my approval to sell my father's land...."

He burped, as a strong smell of alcohol filled the little space.

Watson stayed silent the man fiddled with Aaron's fingers.

"What happened?"

"We argued, said mean things left for the pub until John here came to call me"

"Aaron told me everything John, tell me what happened?"

John's eyes roamed from Aaron to his uncle then to Watson.

"Grandma told me to go call Aaron for his bath, and I left her preparing for an afternoon nap," The boy spoke without stammering.

"When you came back what did you see or hear?"

"We found grandma had locked the door, we called her name, there was no answer then walked to her bedroom window and saw three men"

"Could you describe these men?"

"I did not see their faces" he shook his head and looked over to his uncle.

"Who broke the window?"

John shrugged his shoulders and then looked over to Aaron.

"Aaron, who broke the window and door?"

"The police"

Watson bite his pen and sucked his teeth. He narrowed his eyes concentrating on his small notebook where he gathered his statements. He was not satisfied, nothing was adding up, and no clue meant no mystery to solve. Mystery made his blood boil, he needed some clue, evidence-

"Don't touch anything......watch them..." He said to a police that had removed the body.

He lit a cigarette as he stepped out, the crowd was yet to disperse. They stood in groups, whispers and murmurs mixed forming buzzing sounds. A middle-aged woman caught sight of him and started walking towards him.

Realizing her intentions he turned back and started to walk around the house. There weren't any footprints. The house was clean with no speck of dust, it was September. Otepa at such time, was dry and dusty, and the wells were dry. Where did the mud come from?

"Police- you..." A woman's voice shouted.

Watson ignored her, he was growing tired of this old woman. They would continuously flow into his office to report irrelevant cases. Otepa was a small village with more middle-aged women, many 'unavailable-parent' children, fewer men, and few countable young women.

"I told her not to take those pumpkin seeds" The woman shouted.

Not again those superstitious beliefs. He had come to know in his one-year stay. Superstition was like a religion to them.

He ignored her and walked towards Sarah, she was on the phone. He took two puffs, and in a boyish manner he blew the smoke into the air.

"Okay, bye" Sarah ended her call.

"I haven't found anything, it's like the killer is a ghost. One thing is for sure. This is a staged murder"

He too had concluded. The woman had been killed in another location. If he could answer these questions; what was the murder weapon? Where did it occur? Who murdered her? Why, the motive? Then his extinguished glory would be rekindled. This was the kind of puzzle and riddle that he would solve himself. The kind that would take him out of here back to the city, where he belonged. This case would remind his boss why he hired him in the first place, and reinstate his position back.

"Yes, it is a staged scene. Let it be taped, the body be taken to the coronary for further medical investigation. We have a riddle here, Sarah"

He took a final long puff of his cigarette, extinguished the remaining, and safely put it back in his pocket.

Cigarette was a rare gem in Otepa.