cactuswatcher (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cactuswatcher) wrote2008-11-08 01:18 pm
cactuswatcher) wrote2008-11-08 01:18 pm
In honor of those doing Nanowrimo, in whatever form.
A Trivial Mystery
Necessity Pennywise, the old housekeeper, greeted the inspector, and his constant companion Dr. Tawson at the door of the Poundfoolish manor.
"Right this way, sirs!" she said. Then, hobbling on her cane, she led the pair through the grand entrance hall, up the marble stairs to the upper hallway which was lined with magnificent portraits of the ancestors of the Poundfoolish clan. "These paintings are..."
"Trivial!" Dr. Tawson's exclamation interrupted her.
The housekeeper paused to give the retired professor of landscape appreciation a look to match the disparagement she imagined he had cast upon the furnishings of the great house.
"No, no, my good woman! I was addressing my colleague, Inspector Triton Trivial... I say, look at that portrait! What a striking set of eyes. What a fine dog at his feet holding out its paw!
"Oh, yes sir. That is Sir Oswald Poundfoolish and his prize dog Whistler. Painted in 1644..."
"Ah ha," laughed Dr. Tawson with a sparkle in his eye. "A bit late to be teaching that old dog new tricks!"
The housekeeper continued, "Yes, sir. A fine old, purebred, cocker spaniel. And over in that painting is his mother Teresa with Lady Marian Looss Poundfoolish, the wife of Sir Oswald and daughter of the famous, and wealthy Dutch merchant Onder Looss.
"Purebred cocker spaniel?" questioned Trivial. "Whistler looks more like a common hound, attractive for certain, but a common hound; and his mother looks more like a dachshund than a spaniel!"
"Not so loud, if you please, sir." hissed Ms Pennywise. "What you say is true enough. But the ghost of Whistler still haunts these halls at night! He's a very prideful ghost of a dog! If you don't call him a purebred cocker, he'll bite you on the arse along about midnight!"
"My word." exclaimed Tawson.
"Your word, my arse," said the housekeeper shaking her head.
The old woman opened the door and the pair entered to hear, "Ah, Trivial! You've arrived!"
The detective crossed the room to shake hands, "Well, Chief Inspector Knockonwood! It's been years, hasn't it?"
Knockonwood laughed, "Yes, and we've missed you here in Upper Stuffyshire. It's a shame we only see you when there is a mystery to be solved."
Knockonwood introduced Tawson and Trivial to the others in the room: Mr. Richardson Richards, the ne'er-do-well son of the local minister; Mr. Davidson Davis, headmaster of the local boys school for the impossibly rich; the Exceedingly Reverend King Rook, the bishop over Mr. Richards' father; Miss Welcome Sayler, the chairwoman of Bishop Rook's committee for the support and protection of former trollops and mistresses; and finally Mr. Jamison James, a solicitor representing Miss Sayler in the matter which brought all of these gentlefolk together.
"Rest assured," stated Knockonwood. "That the great detective Trivial will get to the bottom of this matter quickly!"
Trivial replied modestly, "You flatter me far too much. I shall do only what I can."
"Nonsense," laughed Tawson. "Knockonwood is right. I'm sure each of you has heard of the Scott case! The entire resources of Scotland Yard had failed. They sorted through every scrap of cloth in the mansion looking for the murder weapon which would lead them to the foul criminal. But only you noticed the faint outline of a painted tree leaf on the victim's neck. It was you who discovered that Mr. Scott was strangled by Miss Joplin using the maple-leaf rag!"
Mr. James spoke up haughtily, "This is no murder and scarcely a mystery! I do not see why we need a famous detective here. The true will of the late Mr. Honesty Poundfoolish has been presented and it is very clear. Miss Sayler is the heiress of the vast Poundfoolish fortune."
Dr. Tawson injected, "I've had the opportunity to read through this will. It says that his illegitimate son Invention Birdenhand should be recognized as the true heir."
Mr. Richards shouted, "This will is a fraud! The estate must go to my employer, Mr. Honesty Poundfoolish's brother Fiction."
"Don't believe him! The will is 100% genuine." said James.
Mr. Davis quipped, "That Mr. Fiction Poundfoolish is one strange bird!"
The bishop added warily, "Aye, indeed. But their younger sister Truth is stranger still!"
"Well, Mr. Trivial," said Knockonwood. "The will does say that if Invention Birdenhand should take up residence in Sheboygan, Wisconsin, the estate must default to the illegitimate son's mother, and Mr. Birdenhand has moved to that very city against his father's wishes. What do you say, sir?"
Trivial stepped dramatically to the center of the room and began, "I have tested the paper, ink and handwriting of the Poundfoolish will. I discovered that other than the fact the author of the will was eating imitation chocolate of dubious origin at the time of the writing, the will and everything about it is, as Mr. James has said, quite genuine."
"Ah!" sighed Miss Sayler and Mr. James in perfect unison.
"But!..." cried Mr. Trivial, (or perhaps he cried, "Butt!..." One can never tell.) "I have conclusive proof that Miss Sayler, though sufficiently immoral in her youth to have been the mistress of Honesty Poundfoolish, could not have been his illegitimate son's mother."
"No!" cried Miss Sayler.
"Yes!" replied the great detective. "Once I realized the truth, I went to the village of Slophampton, in Farawayshire and found..."
"Stop!" cried Miss Sayler. "Say no more. I could not bear the shame of that coming to light! I admit it, I am guilty of loving Honesty from afar and failing to seduce him!"
"Good heavens, Trivial!" said Tawson as Knockonwood led Miss Sayler away. "Can you tell us what you found in Slophampton?"
"No, Tawson. That would not be gentlemanly."
"But how did you come to suspect Miss Sayler and, my word, who will inherit the estate, now?"
Trivial replied, "It's all elementary. Everyone knows Necessity is the mother of Invention."
Necessity Pennywise, the old housekeeper, greeted the inspector, and his constant companion Dr. Tawson at the door of the Poundfoolish manor.
"Right this way, sirs!" she said. Then, hobbling on her cane, she led the pair through the grand entrance hall, up the marble stairs to the upper hallway which was lined with magnificent portraits of the ancestors of the Poundfoolish clan. "These paintings are..."
"Trivial!" Dr. Tawson's exclamation interrupted her.
The housekeeper paused to give the retired professor of landscape appreciation a look to match the disparagement she imagined he had cast upon the furnishings of the great house.
"No, no, my good woman! I was addressing my colleague, Inspector Triton Trivial... I say, look at that portrait! What a striking set of eyes. What a fine dog at his feet holding out its paw!
"Oh, yes sir. That is Sir Oswald Poundfoolish and his prize dog Whistler. Painted in 1644..."
"Ah ha," laughed Dr. Tawson with a sparkle in his eye. "A bit late to be teaching that old dog new tricks!"
The housekeeper continued, "Yes, sir. A fine old, purebred, cocker spaniel. And over in that painting is his mother Teresa with Lady Marian Looss Poundfoolish, the wife of Sir Oswald and daughter of the famous, and wealthy Dutch merchant Onder Looss.
"Purebred cocker spaniel?" questioned Trivial. "Whistler looks more like a common hound, attractive for certain, but a common hound; and his mother looks more like a dachshund than a spaniel!"
"Not so loud, if you please, sir." hissed Ms Pennywise. "What you say is true enough. But the ghost of Whistler still haunts these halls at night! He's a very prideful ghost of a dog! If you don't call him a purebred cocker, he'll bite you on the arse along about midnight!"
"My word." exclaimed Tawson.
"Your word, my arse," said the housekeeper shaking her head.
The old woman opened the door and the pair entered to hear, "Ah, Trivial! You've arrived!"
The detective crossed the room to shake hands, "Well, Chief Inspector Knockonwood! It's been years, hasn't it?"
Knockonwood laughed, "Yes, and we've missed you here in Upper Stuffyshire. It's a shame we only see you when there is a mystery to be solved."
Knockonwood introduced Tawson and Trivial to the others in the room: Mr. Richardson Richards, the ne'er-do-well son of the local minister; Mr. Davidson Davis, headmaster of the local boys school for the impossibly rich; the Exceedingly Reverend King Rook, the bishop over Mr. Richards' father; Miss Welcome Sayler, the chairwoman of Bishop Rook's committee for the support and protection of former trollops and mistresses; and finally Mr. Jamison James, a solicitor representing Miss Sayler in the matter which brought all of these gentlefolk together.
"Rest assured," stated Knockonwood. "That the great detective Trivial will get to the bottom of this matter quickly!"
Trivial replied modestly, "You flatter me far too much. I shall do only what I can."
"Nonsense," laughed Tawson. "Knockonwood is right. I'm sure each of you has heard of the Scott case! The entire resources of Scotland Yard had failed. They sorted through every scrap of cloth in the mansion looking for the murder weapon which would lead them to the foul criminal. But only you noticed the faint outline of a painted tree leaf on the victim's neck. It was you who discovered that Mr. Scott was strangled by Miss Joplin using the maple-leaf rag!"
Mr. James spoke up haughtily, "This is no murder and scarcely a mystery! I do not see why we need a famous detective here. The true will of the late Mr. Honesty Poundfoolish has been presented and it is very clear. Miss Sayler is the heiress of the vast Poundfoolish fortune."
Dr. Tawson injected, "I've had the opportunity to read through this will. It says that his illegitimate son Invention Birdenhand should be recognized as the true heir."
Mr. Richards shouted, "This will is a fraud! The estate must go to my employer, Mr. Honesty Poundfoolish's brother Fiction."
"Don't believe him! The will is 100% genuine." said James.
Mr. Davis quipped, "That Mr. Fiction Poundfoolish is one strange bird!"
The bishop added warily, "Aye, indeed. But their younger sister Truth is stranger still!"
"Well, Mr. Trivial," said Knockonwood. "The will does say that if Invention Birdenhand should take up residence in Sheboygan, Wisconsin, the estate must default to the illegitimate son's mother, and Mr. Birdenhand has moved to that very city against his father's wishes. What do you say, sir?"
Trivial stepped dramatically to the center of the room and began, "I have tested the paper, ink and handwriting of the Poundfoolish will. I discovered that other than the fact the author of the will was eating imitation chocolate of dubious origin at the time of the writing, the will and everything about it is, as Mr. James has said, quite genuine."
"Ah!" sighed Miss Sayler and Mr. James in perfect unison.
"But!..." cried Mr. Trivial, (or perhaps he cried, "Butt!..." One can never tell.) "I have conclusive proof that Miss Sayler, though sufficiently immoral in her youth to have been the mistress of Honesty Poundfoolish, could not have been his illegitimate son's mother."
"No!" cried Miss Sayler.
"Yes!" replied the great detective. "Once I realized the truth, I went to the village of Slophampton, in Farawayshire and found..."
"Stop!" cried Miss Sayler. "Say no more. I could not bear the shame of that coming to light! I admit it, I am guilty of loving Honesty from afar and failing to seduce him!"
"Good heavens, Trivial!" said Tawson as Knockonwood led Miss Sayler away. "Can you tell us what you found in Slophampton?"
"No, Tawson. That would not be gentlemanly."
"But how did you come to suspect Miss Sayler and, my word, who will inherit the estate, now?"
Trivial replied, "It's all elementary. Everyone knows Necessity is the mother of Invention."
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This is great, CW! I'm trying to decide which is my favorite part: the names (even the un-puns, like Upper Stuffyshire), "Your word, my arse"...no, it has to be Scott/Joplin/maple-leaf rag! And of course, I have to wonder if the King Rook the bishop has been knighted.
But along the lines of how strange Truth & Fiction are, did you know that there actually are 2 brothers named Story Musgrave & Real Musgrave? Story is an astronaut, & Real is a fantasy artist. I like that a lot better than if it were the other way around!