Skeleton Beats the Clock

Chapter 5: Sleeping Goddess: Black Ambrosia Murders

After Meron's parents were taken away by the coroner, Meron and Zin watched as the Qualina police swarmed the cottage. Zin pulled the blanket around her to warm herself. Meron put his arm around her.

"Are you two related to the decedents?" one of the constables asked.

"I'm Zin Swada, a longtime friend of the family."

"I'm their son, Meron Abby."

"Who found the bodies?"

"I did. I called emergency assistance," Zin said pointing to herself.

"And you?" the officer asked.

"I just flew in from Earth 2020. I'm a game designer."

"I'm going to need to see your space airline ticket to corroborate that. And Miss how did you get here to discover their bodies?" the constable asked as Meron reached inside the breast pocket of his jacket and handed his ticket to the officer .

"I'm staying with the Abbys here in their bamboo cottage for the summer. I'm on half-term from university to finish the rest of my recovery from a hip replacement surgery I had nearly six months ago. I suffer from a rare mild bone disease. The lake here is good for my physical therapy," she nodded over her shoulder in the direction of the lake.

The officer handed the ticket back to Meron. He put it back in his pocket.

One of the constables called out to the one that was interviewing Meron and Zin. He went over to him. In his hand was the note with the envelope.

The constable took the note and the envelope and read them. He handed them both back to the other constable.

"You're under arrest," he said heading towards Meron and Zin.

"What? This is ridiculous," Meron said with a furrowed brow. "I didn't do anything."

"He didn't do anything," Zin said, putting her hand around Meron's arm.

"Step away, Mr. Abby. You're under arrest, Miss," the constable said handcuffing Zin.

"What?" She gasped. "I didn't do anything? This is insane."

"She didn't do anything. How dare you?" Meron said with an astonished look on his face, a bit of contempt in his voice.

"You might want to rethink that, sir," the other constable said as Zin was being put in the police car. He held up the envelope in one hand and the note in the other.

"I don't believe it. It's a lie. Someone forged it in her hand somehow. She'd never..." he glanced at Zin over his shoulder.

"You're arresting me on the basis of that letter that's clearly written by someone else. Never mind it's in my hand. Can't you read, Constable? There's nothing in that note remotely incriminating," Zin said through the open car window.

"Maybe you don't remember what you wrote, Miss Swada."

"The note was addressed to me. It was written in my hand but not written by me. It's written in third person."

"I think you'd better have another look at it, Miss," said the constable still holding the note and the envelope. He walked up to the police car.

He held up each of them to the window for her to see clearly. She glanced at the envelope with her name on it and then at the note. It read: I killed the Abbys for my survival. The rest is complicated.

"Bloody hell. That wasn't there before. When I read it, it said, "The body you are wearing used to be mine. I'm writing this to you for your survival. The rest is complicated."

The constable looked unmoved.

"I didn't kill them. Why would I address a note to myself and write a confession to murder in my own hand?" she said to the constable. "I wouldn't. I didn't. I bloody swear, Meron I didn't kill them!" she shouted as she was driven away in the police car.

Meron ran his fingers through his hair, his lower lip trembling. He sniffed with a disgusted look on his face. "What is that awful smell?" There was a salty stench in the air. His brows furrowed. His body scrunched up like an accordion. His head, chest and abdomen glowed in a plum purple color. The salty stench was gone. He righted his body again. "What was that?" he thought as he got into his car and drove away not far behind the police car. He stopped the car at a dead halt almost spiraling off the road. He parked the car at a half-turn. He thought about the time when he was a boy and he was into rare finds in haunted and unexpected places. He recalled taking a self-tour through some tunnels. As he got deeper into the place, a god awful salty stench invaded his nostrils like a Sesna. He put a handkerchief over his mouth and sought it out. He found it in one of the passageways where pirates were foretold to have hidden their treasures. 

Embedded in one of the eyes of skeletal remains was something blackish-purple. He crinkled up his face as his mind continued to flashback. "It could've been at the London Bridge catacombs where I was?" he thought. "That parts a bit hazy. I was such a curious lad. And it was ages ago. Could've been anywhere." He phased out of reality back to his boyhood curiosities.

 He recalled having his chisel and mallet with him. He liked to carry it with him during his explorations. He remembered it was getting dark. That's how long it took to get it out. He was excellent at woodworking so he was careful not to damage the bones. 

Once loose he collected it with his handkerchief. He studied it with the eye of an archaeologist as he covered his nose with his hand. He took it home to his little workshop. He searched his self-made bookshelves there and found the book he was looking for. He flipped through the pages until he found it. "Black Ambrosia," he said out loud with a bit of zeal in his voice. He righted his car and started back on the road.

"Constable, do you mind if I sleep for a bit. I'm a bit knackered?" Zin said lying down in the backseat of the police car, the blanket messily around her.

"If you like. My interview of you isn't over. I still have more questions for you when we get to the police station," he said to her over his shoulder as he drove.

"Ok," she said yawning.

When they finally got to the station, the constable said as he was getting out of the car, "All right, Miss. You'll have to wake up now. We're at the police station." He opened the car door. He put his hand on her shoulder to rouse her awake. She didn't budge. He did it again. "Miss? Miss?" He checked for a pulse. Her pulse was faint. He ran into the police station for help.