CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
PROLOGUE
My friend Dr Dave and I were sitting in his front room, waiting to watch a previously unseen episode of Murder, She Wrote on his adequately sized televison set. The original recording of the episode had been thought lost in a fire and only recovered recently by a highly devoted Angela Lansbury fan. Dr Dave himself had tracked the fan down and demanded the episode be broadcast publically. The world deserve to see it, he had said. I can't say that I disagreed!
"Coming up later tonight, another tribute the Queen of Pop Madonna on the sixth month anniversary of her death!" said the televison announced. "But first, the television event of the year: NEW MURDER, SHE WROTE, BABY!"
"A most unprofessional outbust," admonished Dr Dave. He demanded professionalism from all television, radio and holographic broadcast announcers. "I shall write a letter later!"
"Another tribute to Madonna!" I ejaculated. "I know her death was a tragedy, but this is getting out of hand!"
"Indeed," said Dr Dave. "If only they knew the truth...anyway, silence, Wackson. Miss Fletcher is about to appear before us once more. Praise Lansbury"
"I hope it's an episode set in Cabot Cove," I said. "Those are the best!"
"All I hope for is a well plotted mystery," said Dr Dave, as the advertisements cruelly continued to deny us Lansbury. "I have not had one to solve myself for quite some time."
"The criminals know they can't get away with commiting crime in London, not while you yet live!" I said. Dr Dave nodded. The episode was about to begin...but suddenly there was a loud knocking on the door.
"Ignore it," ordered Dr Dave. "I don't care if the Queen herself has been caught pilfering dog food from her local store to feed hungry corgis. I must have Lansbury!" But the banging only continued, increasing in both frequency and volume.
"Dash it all!" I said. "I must pause the broadcast, Dr Dave, I cannot concentrate with this noise!"
"I reluctantly agree," sighed Dr Dave. I paused the broadcast using modern technology. "Show Inspector Tomtrek of the Yard in. I already have an inking of that which he will speak of, so this should not take long!"
Even I had recognised Tomtrek's signature knock. I opened the door. The fellow's face was red with worry and exhaustion. He staggered over to Dr Dave.
"It's the Pope!" he said. "He's gone missing!"
"By cork!" I said. "This is a greater matter than you suspected, I warrant!" I said to Dr Dave. But he looked unsurprised and unconcerned.
"I cannot say I know where the Pope is, I'll need more information to deduce such," said Dr Dave. "I can, however, tell you who he is with."
"How could you possibly know!" said a flabbergasted Tomtrek.
"Elementary, my dear inspector," said Dr Dave. "He is with Madonna!"
"Madonna!?" asked Tomtrek, his legs buckling. I helped him to a seat.
"Madonna is dead!" I said. "Are you saying the Pope is dead too?"
"Remember nine months ago when we visited the Vatican?" asked Dr Dave.
"So many nuns..." I said, shuddering.
"I had a private audience with the Pope, if you recall, Wackson. I told you we spoke only of the latest NASCAR season. A lie! The Pope told me, in confidence, that he had fallen in love with a woman and was thinking of leaving his position to live with her."
"He told you it was Madonna?" I asked, amazed.
"He was not so forthcoming," said Dr Dave. "Yet I suspected it from the start! The irony of the Pope falling for a woman named Madonna was just too delicious. Three months later she 'died' and my suspicions were confirmed."
"We watched her funeral on television!" I said.
"Her body was on full display!" said Tomtrek. "I took many photographs of it for...private reasons."
"A waxwork model," said Dr Dave. "I knew her death had been faked as soon as they announced that she had died from a snake bite. Don't you see? The Pope was the one who suggested the snake bite, as he was still conflicted in some way. Madonna reminded him of the serpent, tempting Eve in the Garden of Eden. Having Madonna 'die' by a snake bite was his way of sending a secret message to me. He is with Madonna and I have known for quite some time!"
"Wait," I said. "That envelope you handed me after we returned from the Vatican and told me not to open..."
"Open it now," instructed Dr Dave. I did so. I had carried the envelope on my person every day since.
"The Pope is in love with Madonna and she'll fake her death so he can eventually run off with her," I read.
"You are a wizard, sir!" said Tomtrek.
"Simple deduction," said Dr Dave. "Let the Pope and Madonna live together in peace. Now, let us enjoy the greatest television show ever made..." But then Tomtrek's phone rang. He spoke for a good minute as Dr Dave and I waited patiently.
"There's been a murder!" said Tomtrek. "At Her Majesty's Prison Bad Bastard! A locked room mystery, nobody knows how the prisoner died!"
"There's where they put all the most deadly criminals..." I began, before realising. I saw the look in Dr Dave's eyes.
"My brother," said Dr Dave. "Dr Dace. He is involved. We must away, Wackson, to the prison. WE MUST AWAY!"
I set the televison to record the MSW episode, again using modern technology.
My friend Dr Dave and I were sitting in his front room, waiting to watch a previously unseen episode of Murder, She Wrote on his adequately sized televison set. The original recording of the episode had been thought lost in a fire and only recovered recently by a highly devoted Angela Lansbury fan. Dr Dave himself had tracked the fan down and demanded the episode be broadcast publically. The world deserve to see it, he had said. I can't say that I disagreed!
"Coming up later tonight, another tribute the Queen of Pop Madonna on the sixth month anniversary of her death!" said the televison announced. "But first, the television event of the year: NEW MURDER, SHE WROTE, BABY!"
"A most unprofessional outbust," admonished Dr Dave. He demanded professionalism from all television, radio and holographic broadcast announcers. "I shall write a letter later!"
"Another tribute to Madonna!" I ejaculated. "I know her death was a tragedy, but this is getting out of hand!"
"Indeed," said Dr Dave. "If only they knew the truth...anyway, silence, Wackson. Miss Fletcher is about to appear before us once more. Praise Lansbury"
"I hope it's an episode set in Cabot Cove," I said. "Those are the best!"
"All I hope for is a well plotted mystery," said Dr Dave, as the advertisements cruelly continued to deny us Lansbury. "I have not had one to solve myself for quite some time."
"The criminals know they can't get away with commiting crime in London, not while you yet live!" I said. Dr Dave nodded. The episode was about to begin...but suddenly there was a loud knocking on the door.
"Ignore it," ordered Dr Dave. "I don't care if the Queen herself has been caught pilfering dog food from her local store to feed hungry corgis. I must have Lansbury!" But the banging only continued, increasing in both frequency and volume.
"Dash it all!" I said. "I must pause the broadcast, Dr Dave, I cannot concentrate with this noise!"
"I reluctantly agree," sighed Dr Dave. I paused the broadcast using modern technology. "Show Inspector Tomtrek of the Yard in. I already have an inking of that which he will speak of, so this should not take long!"
Even I had recognised Tomtrek's signature knock. I opened the door. The fellow's face was red with worry and exhaustion. He staggered over to Dr Dave.
"It's the Pope!" he said. "He's gone missing!"
"By cork!" I said. "This is a greater matter than you suspected, I warrant!" I said to Dr Dave. But he looked unsurprised and unconcerned.
"I cannot say I know where the Pope is, I'll need more information to deduce such," said Dr Dave. "I can, however, tell you who he is with."
"How could you possibly know!" said a flabbergasted Tomtrek.
"Elementary, my dear inspector," said Dr Dave. "He is with Madonna!"
"Madonna!?" asked Tomtrek, his legs buckling. I helped him to a seat.
"Madonna is dead!" I said. "Are you saying the Pope is dead too?"
"Remember nine months ago when we visited the Vatican?" asked Dr Dave.
"So many nuns..." I said, shuddering.
"I had a private audience with the Pope, if you recall, Wackson. I told you we spoke only of the latest NASCAR season. A lie! The Pope told me, in confidence, that he had fallen in love with a woman and was thinking of leaving his position to live with her."
"He told you it was Madonna?" I asked, amazed.
"He was not so forthcoming," said Dr Dave. "Yet I suspected it from the start! The irony of the Pope falling for a woman named Madonna was just too delicious. Three months later she 'died' and my suspicions were confirmed."
"We watched her funeral on television!" I said.
"Her body was on full display!" said Tomtrek. "I took many photographs of it for...private reasons."
"A waxwork model," said Dr Dave. "I knew her death had been faked as soon as they announced that she had died from a snake bite. Don't you see? The Pope was the one who suggested the snake bite, as he was still conflicted in some way. Madonna reminded him of the serpent, tempting Eve in the Garden of Eden. Having Madonna 'die' by a snake bite was his way of sending a secret message to me. He is with Madonna and I have known for quite some time!"
"Wait," I said. "That envelope you handed me after we returned from the Vatican and told me not to open..."
"Open it now," instructed Dr Dave. I did so. I had carried the envelope on my person every day since.
"The Pope is in love with Madonna and she'll fake her death so he can eventually run off with her," I read.
"You are a wizard, sir!" said Tomtrek.
"Simple deduction," said Dr Dave. "Let the Pope and Madonna live together in peace. Now, let us enjoy the greatest television show ever made..." But then Tomtrek's phone rang. He spoke for a good minute as Dr Dave and I waited patiently.
"There's been a murder!" said Tomtrek. "At Her Majesty's Prison Bad Bastard! A locked room mystery, nobody knows how the prisoner died!"
"There's where they put all the most deadly criminals..." I began, before realising. I saw the look in Dr Dave's eyes.
"My brother," said Dr Dave. "Dr Dace. He is involved. We must away, Wackson, to the prison. WE MUST AWAY!"
I set the televison to record the MSW episode, again using modern technology.