Murder Times Ten
by
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1. "A CHEST FULL OF DREAMS": (Billy Pearl, a cop, is talking.) "A young woman was found dead in the Marina, (Long Beach Marina, southeast Long Beach, California.) Basin two. A boat owner found her. She's a white female, brunette, no identifying marks on her body, maybe 30 years old, dead in the water for a couple a days, nude, no jewelry. Her breasts were sliced open from the top down, a really ugly sight, I'll tell ya. She was shot once in the head, almost between the eyes, that's what killed her." 2. "DIRTY MONEY": (Billy Pearl the cop is talking.) "OK, I've got a white male, dead, shot in the back a the head at close range. He was found a little while ago in his car, parked in the Marina parking lot (Long Beach Marina, southeast Long Beach, California), Basin Two. He's under the steering wheel, but slumped over on his right side. The Lab boys are out here doin' their thing. I got the case. I'd like you to take a look before we move the body, but we've gotta hurry. We've got a crowd and it's gettin' bigger. Can ya make it?" 3. "IT'S IN THE BAG": I (Jerry) said, "Hi, Billy. I'm doin' OK, what's up?" 4. "SUISIDE NOTE": Billy laughed. He recognized my caution. He continued: "I need that creative, intuitive brain of yours, Jerry, ol' buddy. A guy was found dead in his office. There's a note so it looks like a suicide, but I want you to take a look at it, OK? It's just a hunch, I guess, because the guy doesn't seem to have any reason to kill himself. Wanna bet?" 5. "MURDER IN THE BATHROOM": I (Jerry) was having breakfast with my wife and kids on a Tuesday morning when my cell phone rang. I said, "Pickle Detective Agency." It was Billy Peal (Homicide Detective, William Q. Pearl, Long Beach, California, Police Department). Billy said, "Hi, Jerry, sorry to call ya so early, but I've got a DOA (dead on arrival), a man, that's really strange. He's in the bathtub with a dog. Both of 'em are dead. They were electrocuted by a hairdryer in the water. Must've dropped the thing. 6. "DIAMOND JUBILEE": Billy, a puzzled look on his face said, "Hey, Jerry, you won't believe this. The people who live here had some people over for dinner to celebrate their diamond jubilee wedding anniversary, they ate the dinner, and then they went to the living room for coffee or drinks or whatever then they all went to sleep. Someone drugged 'em an' stole some diamonds worth about a hundred grand. When they woke up they found the dead man. He was a guest. Then they discovered the diamonds were missing. They called the cops. They think someone working' in the hotel had a key an' stole the diamonds because the door was locked so no one could get in an' the door was locked when the cops got here. Wow! This is one for the book. 7. "HEARTBREAKING": Billy laughed softly. He recognized my caution. He continued: "I need that creative, intuitive brain of yours, Jerry, ol' buddy. An' old guy was found dead in his living room. His name is Paul Summers. He lived alone. His son found him on his couch. He must of've been takin' a nap when he died in his sleep. It looks like a natural death to me, a heart attack probably, but his lady friend is insisting that it was murder even though she hasn't any suspects or motives or clues or anything, she's just insistin' that it was murder so I was told to check it out, that's why I'm callin' you. 8. "MURDER AT EIGHT": "OK, OK," Billy chuckled. "Here's the dope. This guy was killed last night in his own home. He has a houseful of guests for the weekend. There's no clews, no suspects. We've just started on the case so we haven't checked motives, opportunity, or alibies." Billy's a good detective, but he hasn't very much creativity. He's the plodding kind. I'm the gazelle, the cheetah kind, bounding high and wide with quantum leaps putting inductive and deductive two 'n' two's together. Most of the time. Sometimes me and Billy fail to solve the crime puzzle, but not too often. 9. "SEAL OF FATE": Billy said, "A man's been murdered. He was found in his car in front of his house. His name's Peter Wendell. It looks like a robbery-murder, but his wife says he'd been gettin' threatenin' letters. She thinks he was robbed just to throw us off from findin' the real killer. The guy's a professional gambler, he runs a floatin' crap game, which is illegal as you know. He has a police record. He's been picked up for book makin' an' usin' illegal slot machines, an' other illegal small time gamblin' stuff, like punch cards, but no convictions. We checked 'im out an' found out he an' his wife are gettin' a divorce. 10. "TIT FOR TAT!": Billy laughed. He recognized my caution. He continued: "I need that creative, intuitive brain of yours, Jerry, ol' buddy. I've got a homicide found in a cavity in the rocks on the outside rim of the breakwater around the Queen Mary. A white female. Nude, no clothes of any kind. No head, hands, or feet. The killer cut the hands and feet off with some kind of a saw. The head was cut off with a knife. The woman's been dead for some time, at least a month or more maybe, so the body's in bad condition, an' the rats and the crabs have been at it, plus the water. It appears to be the body of a young woman not an older or old woman, hard to tell.
"Yeah, I'll be right there."
"I've got a homicide. A man. No head or hands. Interested?"
"Maybe," cautiously. "What've ya got?"
"Nothin'! No clues, no suspects, no nothin'! Wanna bet?"
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About the Book
There are ten murder puzzle stories in this story collection. Jerry Pickle, a super sleuth (private detective), solves most of them with the help of Billy Pearl, a detective on the Long Beach, California, Police Department. The two men make friendly bets to find out who can solve the murders first. They aren't being disrespectful; it's a way of keeping sane in a kill-crazy world. These murder stories are puzzle stories. They are short, fast, and baffling. Jerry Pickle is vitally interested in sending killers to their deaths, but his first interest after that is the murder puzzle itself. He's good at it, and he usually wins the bets he makes with Billy Pearl, sending a murderer to h.o.h. (his or her) death. Jerry and Billy believe strongly in the death penalty, because they have seen so many people brutally and senselessly murdered! Remember: the number of people murdered by executed killers is zero!!! The number of people murdered by paroled killers is in the thousands, and the number is growing!!!
About the Author
Robert James Warner was born and raised in Long Beach, California. He went to the local schools. He was drafted into the Navy on March 9th, 1944, during the 2nd World War as soon as he finished his last semester in high school. He was discharged from the Navy on June 16, 1946. Mr. Warner went back to school, Long Beach City College, on the G.I. Bill, taking Mechanical Engineering, and then he switched to journalism. After about a year and a half at City College he quit. Mr. Warner had always been interested in writing, but he had huge handicaps to overcome: he couldn't spell (he still can't); and grammar was then and is now a mystery to him. Mr. Warner first began to write when he was about 20. During the next few years he wrote some songs, some poetry, and some short stories; but his output was quite low. From 1947, after Mr. Warner left City College, to 1950, he had a number of different inconsequential jobs, the longest at Douglas Aircraft in Long Beach where he worked in the blueprint department for eight months, and then he quit and loafed awhile. In 1950 he enlisted in the Active Naval Reserve as a Weekend Warrior, so he could learn seamanship and get paid doing it. He has had a life long love affair with boats (building his own) and fishing. About three months later, the Korean War started and Mr. Warner was called back to active duty in the Navy Aircorp for a year. He was discharged in August 1951. During his duty, he served on three aircraft carriers operating off of Korea in the China Sea, bombing and strafing the communists! After Korea, Mr. Warner went back to City College for awhile, then he got a job on a freighter as a deckhand, and made two trips to the Hawaiian Islands, about 30 days round trip, hauling bulk sugar for C&H Sugar in Crocket California on the Sacramento River. Leaving the ship in Crocket he went to Santa Rosa, California, where he washed dishes in some restaurants and got a poem published in the local newspaper, a big day in his life. Next, he went to Yosemite, and washed some more dishes then he went home. Mr. Warner has cleaned chicken dung from under the pens; he owned and operated his own auto wrecking yard; owned his own 2nd Store; was half owner of a Yacht Landing; speculated in Real Estate, and worked at some other odd jobs. He went to work for the Long Beach Fire Department in 1953, stayed there for the next 26 years, and retired in October 1979. Mr. Warner got married in 1961, had his son in 1963, and then got divorced in 1973. In 1974, Mr. Warner and his son, Jeff, drove to Alaska during the summer. On his return, Mr. Warner wrote his first novel. Since 1974, Mr. Warner has written 15 novels, about 125 short stories, two Civil War books, and two poetry collections.