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Where We Left Off:
Gus found a robin’s nest. All of us in the detective agency took up interest in monitoring the eggs and their survival status.
The Toolbox Mystery:
This case gets dark. Early in May, Gus and I were walking through the grass. I watched as he smelled around the bare dirt that encircled one of the lilac bushes. My attention was about to drift elsewhere when something near Gus caught my eye. Something brown and hammered—made of metal pocked with age.
“I found pliers,” Gus said. “Do you think The Grumpy Old Man will give me extra treats for finding this?”
“I bet he will,” I told my investigating partner and best friend. “It’s weird. We were just having a conversation about pliers. The Butler needed a pair so I bought a pair, barely nicer than these, but functional, from the thrift store.”
“And then the elders said there were plenty of pliers here to share,” Gus finished the memory of the conversation.
While researching the historical uses of pliers (yes, I did that), I remembered to go to the website of the author of Forensics & Fiction. If you have a weak constitution, you might want to skip over this paragraph. According to forensics expert and crime author, D.P. Lyle, M.D. had this to say at his old blog:
Back in the 16th and 17th centuries, there were no EKGs, no stethoscopes to listen for heart beats, and no real method for determining death. So situations such as arose with Noelia were not uncommon. Several unique and bizarre techniques were devised. Tobacco smoke enemas, vigorous nipple pinching either manually or with pliers, hot pokers shoved into various bodily orifices, and aggressive tongue pulling were all used to determine if the “corpse” was truly dead.
Oliver had been watching us the whole time from his observation platform which gives a 180° view. When it was time for Gus and me to go home, we walked beneath Ollie.
“Bring that artifact up here right away,” he said as he poked his head through the railing. “I have some ideas about its origin.”
After slipping off all of our gear, Detective Gus and I pounded up the stairs. Neither of us is ever graceful. I was tired enough that it was a surprise I didn’t crawl my way up.
I found Oliver right outside his office with one of the digital tablets. I saw colorful images on the screen in front of him.
“There’s something in this historical archive that made me think of the artifact you found.” He was also next to a small square of fabric with dried catnip on it. Ollie might have been tapping into supernatural forces.
“Those are Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle comics, Ollie. Not historical archives.” It brought to mind a particular scene in Galaxy Quest when the Thermians talked about studying Earth history by watching the historical archives which was the titular sci-fi television series.
“It’s not exactly about the Turtles. Have you ever read them or watch them?” Ollie creased his forehead with disdain.
“No. Give them to me.” I took the tablet away and spent a few hours reading the 2024 relaunch written by Jason Aaron with a different art team on each issue. I appreciated the way IDW approached this—the first four issues are focused on a member of the TMNT team. Then they introduced Casey Jones and Mayor Hale—this one I understood less because it said it was about two villains, but it made Casey Jones come off as a vigilante for all mutants. I don’t know. Someone can explain it to me.
Anyway, after I finished, the cats and I reconvened.
“What did you learn about the Turtles?” Ollie asked.
“I might be able to tell them apart now. I always knew each one had their own weapon of choice. They have distinctive personalities. I can see why rambunctious little boys gravitate towards Michelango. He’s like an intelligent Bart Simpson with weapons. Maybe Franklin Richards (the son of Sue Storm and Mr. Fantastic) is a better comparison.” I refilled my water and put more treats in the puzzle game for Gus before I crawled onto the bed.
“Oliver, it’s your bedtime,” Gus said. “Plus, I don’t think she has much brain power left. Get to the point.”
Oliver settled down in front of his office space where he tucked a Yeowww banana under his arms discreetly.
“I want to throw up now. Thanks, Oliver.” I took a sip of water, needing both hands to hold my glass. “Can we circle back to the artifact now? Tell me you don’t think there was a serial killer living in this house in the late 1970’s. The elders did not buy this house from serial killers.”
“No, no, of course not. That’s preposterous!” Ollie reassured us though Gus didn’t seem as concerned as I was. “I’m saying there may have been someone who used pliers for nefarious purposes and disposed of them. Perhaps, they landed in a garbage bag and a bear dragged it to its den because there was something like turkey bones or chicken in the trash. You’ve seen the trails of mess they leave. All kinds of trash ends up in the woods, the sides of the roads, in the backyards.”
He left off there and he was right. Dragged garbage bags leave a mess. The pliers Gus and I found might never have belonged to anyone at this address. What a grotesque way to end up at this conclusion.
“Oliver,” Gus said, “It’s also possible that someone used the tool for its intended purpose as hardware and misplaced them in the grass decades ago.”
This isn’t the first time the team couldn’t agree on a case.
Case Findings:
A rusty pair of pliers was found under a lilac bush leading the team to come up with several theories. From being the tool of an evil person who tortures others to a lost piece of hardware, there was no middle ground. If I had to break the tie on this one, I’d side with Gus. We’ve seen how many tools The Grumpy Old Man has misplaced. It’s easy to do. It’s Occam’s Razor. This was probably an ordinary tool purchased from Sears decades ago. It merely got lost, buried by soil erosion carrying it under the bush, and then discovered by Gus in 2025.
What do you think?
Case Status: Closed
Resources:
Oxygen.com. Accessed May 22, 2025 11:30 AM ET.