Follow The Clues

In the days that followed my release from the VA hospital I needed to find cheap lodging. A friend of mine introduced to me to a man who would soon after become my roommate at 2211C Cake Street. The man took one look at me and said, “I see that you were in the Virgina National Guard, recently discharged.”

“How on earth did you know that?”

“People tend to see but do not observe. Your T-shirt, half hidden beneath your winter coat is clearly one that reads, ‘I survived the battle for the White House’ that was all the rage last year after the National Guard removed the meglomaniac barracaded himself in the Oval Office.”

So it was later that several of us sat around a table while my new companion smoked his abominable cheap weed in a briar pipe discussing his solution to the latest murder, “It was Colonel Mustard in the Kitchen with the Knife,”

“Sherluck Jones,” I cried out, “How do you do it? We barely started playing!”

“Elementary, my dear Wittsend, elementary.”

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