Detective Batman examined the scene, his light pipe in hand. A middle-aged man was sprawled lifeless in his kitchen, a bloody knife at his side. The officers in the room were taking pictures of the crime area while Batman called the victim’s roommate to come to his home in suburban Georgia. As the rain fell down, Batman watched as the officer came forward to him to tell him the details about the victim.
“His name is Larry Dynamite” said the officer on the scene. “He was murdered last night in his home this morning.” “The only close friend he has is his roommate, Jordan Armstrong. All his family members were killed in a horrific plane crash” answered the officer.
Detective Batman called the roommate to the scene to question him.
“Where were you when Larry was killed?” asked the sleuth, gently.
“I was at school, my mother’s house. We were having a family reunion. It started early in the morning. I only found about this when you called me” Jordan replied, between sobs.
“Do you know anybody who could have done this?”
“The neighbors, Mr. Montberry, Mrs. Jocelyn and never liked Larry. Often they would come to the door and complain about Larry, and how disruptive he is to the neighborhood.”
“Where were you between eight a.m. and ten a.m.?”
“I was at a family reunion at my mother’s home. You can call my family members and they will say I was there.”
Detective Batman found this information useful, and decided to go interrogate the close neighbors. He decided he would walk to Mr. Montberry home first. He went as quickly as he can because his trademark fedora was getting soaked with the wet rain. The rain hadn’t stopped since yesterday.
The sleuth politely knocked at the Mr. Montberry’s home. A tall man in his mid-forties answered the door groggily.
“Are you Mr. Montberry?” Batman asked
“That’s me.” Replied Mr. Montberry, uneasily. “What do you want?”
“Do you mind if I come in and ask you a few questions?”
The man hesitated, but after some thinking let him in. His home looked like no one cleaned it since he bought it. He obviously lived alone, due to the amount of space in his one bedroom, one bathroom house.
“Donut?” Mr. Montberry offered, pointing to a box of chocolate glazed donuts, clearly rotten since a month ago.
“I’ll pass. Now, to the questions… Sir, where were you between eight and ten a.m.?”
“I was at painting my living room a vivid green” He replied, motioning to a freshly painted lime green room.
“Are you aware that your neighbor, Mr. Dynamite was murdered this morning?”
“That’s terrible! I hope they find who did it” Mr. Montberry exclaimed, with enthusiasm.
Detective Batman got what he needed, so he dismissed himself to question the neighbor in front of Mr. Dynamites home, Mrs. Jocelyn. As he knocked on her front door, she answered right away, kindly greeting him and inviting him in.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you a few questions” Detective Batman said.
“Sure, you can ask me anything” Mrs. Jocelyn replied.
“Did you know that your neighbor, Mr. Dynamite was murdered this morning?”
“Goodness! No, but I was wondering why there were so many police cars around his home.”
“Where were you between eight and ten a.m.?”
“I was at the beach, lying in the sun. I was there all morning.” She answered quickly.
“Ma’am, you’re under arrest for the murder of Larry Dynamite.”
Mrs. Jocelyn was taken away with handcuffs after Detective Batman called some officers.
“How did you find out it was her?” asked a curious officer.
“Elementary. She said she went tanning at the beach, but it has been raining since yesterday.”