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The Mysterious Matter of the Running Water

John Ragusa

    It was Hallowe’en night. Trapworth and I had been giving out candy to trick-or-treaters most of the evening. When the doorbell rang again, I thought it was another one of the kiddies. I was wrong. It was Inspector Heathfield.
    “Are you here to get candy, Inspector?” I quipped.
    He grinned. “Afraid not. I just need help from you and your boss.”
    “Step inside.”
    Heathfield entered the foyer. “You’ll have to take time out from giving candy to listen to me, Joseph.”
    As Trapworth’s butler and fellow sleuth, I knew exactly what Heathfield wanted to talk about.
    I led the Inspector into the den. Trapworth, a former boxer, asked Heathfield, “Is there another murder to solve?”
    Heathfield nodded. “You got it.”
    “Give us the skinny.”
    “Kent Grody was recently told by his wife Jean that she was having an affair with their next-door neighbor, Shane Britt. Last night, Britt was bludgeoned to death with a vase. Grody certainly had a motive to kill him. But he has an alibi of sorts.”
    “What is it?” I asked.
    “At the time of the murder, Grody was taking a shower in the bathroom. Jean heard the water running for about five minutes, and the door was locked. I can guess what Grody did; he let the faucets run so Jean would think he was taking a shower when he was really leaving through the bathroom window, going next door, and killing Britt. The only problem is that I can’t prove he did this. Will you assist me on this case, Trapworth?”
    “Sure, Joseph and I will be glad to,” he said. “We’ll start by visiting the Grodys.”
    Off we went to their house.
X X X
    Once Heathfield introduced us and told the Grodys the reason we were there, Grody said, “It happened exactly how my wife and I described it. That’s all there is to say.”
    “Can you show us anything that would corroborate that story?” Trapworth asked.
    “Come into the bathroom with me,” Grody said.
    We all went in there. Grody said, “Look here. These things prove I took a bath when Britt was killed. The tub is wet. This towel I dried myself with is wet.”
    “Yes, but one thing isn’t wet.” Trapworth picked it up and showed it to us. “It’s the soap. See? It’s dry.”
    Grody broke down and confessed to his neighbor’s murder. Heathfield charged him with the crime and took him to the police car.
    Later, at home, Trapworth told me, “On this Hallowe’en night, Kent Grody tried to trick us, but he failed.”

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