The Case of The Perplexed Painting

The Psychiatrist Meets The Detective

I still can't thank you enough for coming that day to meet with Mister Genoa. 

He laughed when he heard your name once again but it didn't phase you.

You stood there with confidence and you didn't allow him to intimidate you,

When he asked you about the painting, I will never forget how you responded. "Why, yes, of course, I knew about it," you said as you stood up straight with perfect posture before throwing the lengthy blonde hair of yours into the air.

Mister Genoa asked if you thought he was crazy and you said, "No crazier than the Catholic who believes a piece of bread is the flesh of Jesus or the Wiccan who believes the spells they cast have some effect on their circumstances."

Genoa asked you, "So, you do believe in magic?"

You responded, "Magic to a certain extent."

"Can you elaborate, Doctor Angel?" He responded.

Your response was one any good doctor would give. You believe that magic, if it helps the person find their purpose in life and if it keeps them from the brink of a nervous breakdown, is good. 

Genoa and Cross had their doubts. They continued to press on asking you where the painting was and you told them it was in Uncle Merton's library above the fireplace.

"Well, it is not there anymore," Genoa stated, "somebody has stolen it."

You didn't seem surprised when he told you of its disappearance, but then again, you said it yourself that with my uncle's death, it was inevitable that someone was going to steal it.

The detective asked if you had any suspects in mind and you named the same ones I did, only you didn't include yourself.

When you had finished, Genoa pushed you for answers. "Tell me, doctor, which of these suspects do you think took the painting?" He asked you in what could have been a growl.

"That is not for me to figure out," was your response.

As you two continued to talk, Miss Cross's cell phone went off. She walked out of your office and into the hallway. I remember her shoes made that incredibly loud noise as she walked down the hallway to answer her phone.

Mister Genoa and you continued to bicker back-and-forth. He continued to press you for answers, but you didn't have any to give.

Then, Miss Cross returned to your office and told us the bad news. Miss Kalzone had been found dead in her apartment. Someone had murdered her.