Saturday, June 27, 2020

The Parable of the Gift Cards

The Best Gift Cards For 2020 And How To Save Money On Them

Scott was a serial entrepreneur. And he knew how to catch a fad. Purple, Serta, Sleep Number, mattress companies were popping up offering high end mattresses with huge margins, there was even one selling mattresses made out of parts of avocados. He decided that the right thing to do was mix a new craze with an old one. Hollywood had taught him that nothing sells like nostalgia, look at the box office: Star wars, Ghostbusters, Beauty and the Beast. For him the obvious answer was waterbeds.

He quickly got with his manufacturing contacts and within a few months Ocean Rest was born. But clearly nostalgia has its limits and while he was making a living the beds weren’t flying off the shelves. The Christmas holiday was fast approaching and Scott decided to get in on the gift card business. Why would you buy gift cards for $25 or $50 dollars for a $2,000 item? Even the optimist in him didn’t think he would sell a lot, but on the bright side because of that many that were sold would never get redeemed. So, he would sell a 10 cent piece of plastic for $25. That was the kind of business he could get into.

He dropped some money on a graphic designer and when he got them back he had to admit, they were very cool looking. He bought a few hundred and distributed them around at some stores. A few days later his phone rang. It was from his friend, Sai, who owned the local hardware store. “We would like 200 more gift cards.”


“You heard me, the 20 you gave us flew off the shelf. We project we could sell 200 more this holiday season.”

“Sai, you’re very funny. But I’m not making 200 cards.”

“Suite yourself, but I’m serious. They like your cards.”

He and Sai often played pranks on each other so he ignored the call until all the others started coming in. “We will take 100 more.” They all said. Something about that card. And after he filled those orders the calls for 1,000 more came almost as fast. People all over the country were calling asking to get his cards. Soon Wal Mart ordered 10,000. For some reason everyone wanted one.

Scrolling through his facebook feed one day he saw it, a woman holding one of his cards saying, “Can’t wait to give my parents their waterbed gift card for Christmas. The day I punctured theirs and flooded the room they will never forget. They are going to lose it when they get this.” And they started popping up, memes, jokes, memories all with his card. Clearly, $2,000 was too much to have a nostalgic experience, but $20 wasn’t.

As the cards came off the shelf the money started pouring in. First thousands, then tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands and ultimately millions. Making gift cards felt like printing money.

“Dad, I don’t know what to say.”

“The polite thing to say is, ‘Thank You’.” Scott said as he sat with his daughter and their family on Christmas.

“But Dad, I can’t accept this.”

“Of course, you can, it's your Christmas Gift.”

“But my home...paid off.”

“I know you and Billy are doing okay but think about how much easier things will be without the mortgage.”

And Scott was also generous with his extended family. Aunts got boats and Uncles got trucks to pull them with. But Scott wasn’t worried it seemed the money poured in faster than he could spend it. So, he just kept spending.

But all crazes die, and when this one died, it died in two phases. Phase 1 was when people stopped buying the cards. The money slowed down and Scott began to scramble. In addition to gifts he had bought many nice things for himself, and the beach condo had a steep HOA, and the water bill at his new mansion with the lazy river, equaled most people's house payment. Things were getting very tight, he even wondered if he would have to sell one of the six new homes when Phase 2 hit.

In Salt Lake another young entrepreneur’s wheels were turning. The world was flooded with $20 gift cards for water mattresses that were almost worthless to those who held them. People would gladly cash them in for pennies on the dollar.

Scott was excited when he got the first order for 15 waterbeds. After all, he could use the money. But then he noticed how they were paid for, all with gift cards. He wouldn’t see a dime, he already had and spent the money for these. This was painful, but he had to deliver. Then another order for 20, then 30. The young man in Salt Lake was buying $2,000 waterbeds with worthless gift cards and selling them for $500 and turning a decent profit.

One by one the six homes were sold. Pouring all his money to fulfill orders that didn’t bring in a cent. It was staring at a computer in his daughters basement at an order of 100 mattresses that he realized the game was up. He didn’t want to declare bankruptcy but it was his only option. In desperation he called a number he had looked up sometime ago.

“Hello, this is Anash, did you want to order a mattress?”

“Anash, this is Scott, owner of Ocean Rest. I can’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“I can’t fill any more orders. I’m bankrupt, I can’t afford to sell you any more mattresses.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. You were paid in advance for these orders. Paid one gift card at a time. You should have money to spare. Getting paid in advance of the orders is an advantage, how could you not have the money?”

Scott knew Anash was right, he knew money today is worth more than money tomorrow, but he also knew why in his case, that hadn’t been the case. “I didn’t expect people to use the gift cards. I assumed most would get lost or thrown away. At least, I guess that is what I assumed. I probably didn’t really think about it enough. I’m sorry, but you have to stop.”

“I can’t, I have orders to fill. I’ve taken another 50 since I sent you that last order yesterday.”

“Then it looks like we're both going out of business.”


I think this parable needs some explanation. Scott is you and me. It’s all the citizens of the United States and the gift cards are $100 dollar bills. Since the great recession the demand for $100 dollar bills has skyrocketed. As demand goes up they simply print more. They now print more $100 dollar bills than $1 dollar bills. There are several reasons for this. Many countries knowing that large bills are often used in crime stopped printing large currency bills. The Euro for instance discontinued their 500 Euro note for this reason. The US dollar is also amazingly stable, so it is seen as a safe place to store your money if you are overseas.

So with all this printing of money why are we not seeing inflation. And isn’t having the world use our currency a good thing? We are not seeing inflation because much of the money isn’t going into circulation. We get to essentially spend it for goods and services and then it goes into someone's mattress or in some cartels shed. Is this good for us? Like Scott and his family members it is, in the short run. We get the world's goods and services and what do we have to provide in return? Nothing, or practically nothing, a 12 cent piece of paper.

The danger is that just like Scott, this game will die and die in two phases. Phase 1 will be when the demand for $100 bills stops. When people in India, China and drug cartels no longer want to use $100 bills as their preferred source of money storage. That will be painful, because no more buying goods and services for practically nothing. But it is nothing compared to the pain we will feel in Phase 2 when people decide to begin to liquidate the bills they have. There will be massive inflation. That is when we will be forced to make goods and services and get nothing in return. Just like in the story the pain will be shared by both us and those who hold our money.

What should we do? We need to realize that we can’t keep printing money without consequences. The decision to print or not print money is based on keeping inflation low, because deflation would also cause economic pain. The best way we could control this is do what Europe and other nations have done and discontinue the $100 bill. It would be a tough decision. It would be like Scott deciding not to sell gift cards when they are flying off the shelf. But we need to. Because the only other option is actually to use good times to save money and prepare for the payback when it inevitably comes. And unfortunately I don’t see us as a nation doing that.

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Saturday, June 13, 2020

Llewellyn Hanson- Dead Detective- Chapter 20

Move over Poirot, a new detective is here - columns - Hindustan Times

Here is the Link to the Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18, and Chapter 19

“What was that?” Trout asked, as he Hanson and Chief Grassly were all back in the office.

“It was the sound of the judge removing her inner ability to influence,” Hanson said.

Trout imagined the judge removing some sort of light crystal from the heart of Stacy as she cried out in pain. “Really?”

“No,” Hanson clearly enjoyed the joke, and the chief couldn’t help but have a chuckle at Trout’s expense as well. “More likely she found out a painful truth. I found out this morning, and honestly I reacted almost the same way. Her daughter,Trish, moved on last night.”

“Moved on?” The chief said in surprise.

“You mean the second death?” Trout asked.

“Some people call it that.” The chief replied

“What do you call it?” Trout asked.

“I try not to think too much about it.”

“So, we can call a witness from those who have moved on?” Trout asked.

“No. You can’t,” the chief jumped in.

“But you said…”

“I was bluffing.” Hanson said with a calm that only comes from a gambler after his play has worked out.

“That was a little gutsy.” The chief said. “You went to trial with your only witness not available. You basically had nothing.”

“Nothing is a bit strong, I had circumstantial evidence and I had visited with her daughter, who helped me quite a bit on the details. She had agreed to testify but she moved on. I wasn’t going to give up because of some bad luck.”

“Couldn’t they wait until after the trial to take her?” Trout asked.

The chief and Hanson shared a glance. “I’m not sure who you think ‘they’ are, but we don’t have any control over it. In fact, the second death, as you call it, is as unpredictable as, actually...” he thought of something they handled everyday, murder, and changed his mind, “even less predictable than the first death.”

“Where do they go?”

“Not sure. But it isn’t here.” Hanson stated with the same matter of fact tone he usually did.

“Do we ever see people who have moved on?” Trout asked.

Hanson turned to the Chief, “You take this one.”

The chief cleared his throat, which was completely unnecessary for someone who is dead. “Well, some people say they have seen people who have moved on. The best way to explain might be to ask, did you know people in life who claimed to see us? I mean dead grandparents in dreams and things?”

“Not personally but heard of people, mostly crazys.”

“There you go. Same here, but we do exist, so I guess they might be telling the truth.”

“I guess.” They could tell that Trout was not fully satisfied with their answers. But the truth was the questions weren’t answered any better for the chief or Hanson; they had just experienced these situations long enough to know they worked, even if they didn’t know why. So at some point they stopped asking and just lived with it. Sort of moved on, and that is exactly what they tried to do now.

“Speaking of the board, Hanson, they came back with what to do about you and I can’t believe what you’ve done.”

“What?” Hanson feigned innocence.

“Well before I tell you, how about your outburst at sentencing?”

“Oh yes, I’m sorry but five years was a bit light.”

“Not your call.”

“Fine. The judge called you back for that?”

“No. She didn’t mention it. She is a bigger person than I would be. It’s the board. They came back on your using the elements to stop Tom from using drugs.”

“They’re still bent out of shape about that?”

“No, turns out the board had it reviewed by the judge panel. Judge Sherman wanted me to tell you. They have ruled that you effectively used your expanded authority in enforcement to further the protection of life within the boards of duty and further that such use is hereby authorized for all members of enforcement. You’ve done it again, you have changed the rules of the game.”

Hanson gave a smirk

“I’m proud of you. But I’m supposed to remind you that we have to get those things vetted before, not after we use them.”

“Oops,” Hanson said in as much jest as was possible for him.

“Well, after a big case win like that you boys need a day or two off.” Hanson glared at the chief. “Just kidding, I’ve already got a case. It’s an odd one. No body. Almost unsolvable.”

Hanson smiled, “That is more like it.” He turned to his junior, “You ready, Trout?”

Trout was looking down unto his visor, ignoring Hanson.

“Trout, I said you ready?” Hanson reiterated.

“Stop interrupting. I’m reading the case file.”

The chief laughed, “You two are the perfect team.” but his words were spoken into the empty space in front of him, they were already on the case.

The End

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Llewellyn Hanson- Dead Detective- Chapter 19

Move over Poirot, a new detective is here - columns - Hindustan Times

Here is the Link to the Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16, Chapter 17, and Chapter 18

The next morning, Hanson and Trout sat waiting in Chief Grassly’s office.

“How does this all work?” Trout asked.

“Once they have a judge and a location, the chief will get us. After he ports us to the spot, you are free to get Caden and bring him back to the courtroom. Then the trial will begin.”

“Is it like trials on the other side?”

“What do you think?” Hanson asked.


“You’re right. I mean there is a judge, but court over here is much more an open conversation and takes as much or little time as needed. I have seen whole cases start and finish in five minutes and I had one last three weeks without a break. But just like back home, the judge runs everything, and just as the judges on the other side have certain powers and authorities, so do the judges over here.”

The explanation was barely finished when the Chief ported in. He had hardly appeared when Hanson asked, “Who’d we get?”

“Sherman. Not that it matters,” the chief replied.

“Sherman! Not Sherman!” Hanson bemoaned.

“Who’s Sherman?” Trout asked.

“She’s the judge,” Grassly answered. “Hanson and her don’t always see eye to eye. He finds her a bit lenient at times.”

“A bit!?” Hanson cried out.

“We better get going,” the chief said, and seconds later they were in the courtroom.

However, Trout would not have called it a courtroom. He would have more likely guessed it was a room for a group therapy session. It was a fairly large room with a circle of chairs. There were two people already sitting in the circle. One stood and walked to them. “Welcome, welcome, I am Judge Sherman.” She was a kind, older woman. Trout was shocked that Hanson could say anything bad about this woman, she seemed so inherently kind.

Hanson leaned towards Trout, “Go get Caden. I’ll tell the judge where you are.”

Trout appeared in the living room where Caden sat jovially speaking with the Worthlins. “Oh, hi Trout. Is it time for the trial?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Trout said he wasn’t sure how quickly he was expected back and didn’t want to hold up the trial.

“Can the Worthlin’s come?”

“Um…” Trout had no idea if they would be allowed. “I guess so...?” While it was a bit awkward, Trout asked that they all put a hand on him and a second later they were back in the courtroom.

“Oh, a few guests, how nice. Good thing we have a few extra chairs,” said Judge Sherman excitedly. They headed into the circle and sat down. Trout, who sat next to Hanson whispered, “Who is the other lady?”

“Reviewing judge,” Hanson replied. “They always have two. One runs the show and the other reviews and watches. The second won’t speak.”

“Welcome everyone.” Judge Sherman began. “Well Hanson, before we do official introductions why don’t you tell us why we have all gathered here today.”

“Thank you, your honor.”

“Oh, Hanson, you can call me Jill. You know that.”

Hanson had warned Trout that the court was different, but he was still ill-prepared for just how different the atmosphere was.

“Thank you Jill,” Hanson started over “I have called us together because Stacy Wall directly influenced Jim Gillman to kill Caden Mason, and I believe if actions are not taken she will continue to influence others in an attempt to destroy the lives of others.”

As Hanson mentioned Stacy, the Worthlin’s gasped slightly. Clearly they, unlike Caden, had heard of her.

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention. Before the case begins we will invite Mrs. Stacy Wall to join us.” The Judge said.

Instantly Stacy appeared in one of the empty seats next to the judge. She looked shocked and then almost instantly angry. Anger was clearly the predominant feature in her eyes. One by one, she took an inventory of who was there while she looked around the room.

“Stacy, I’m Judge Jill Sherman, but you are welcome to call me Jill. I believed you were informed yesterday that you had been asked to appear.”

“And I told them no,” Stacy interrupted.

“I do understand that it is not always convenient, but we are glad you made the time to be here.”

“I was forced.”

“That may be true, but I appreciate you being here regardless. Let’s begin by introducing ourselves. I already introduced myself, next to me is our review judge, Judge Jane Bolin. As a reviewer she is here to ensure I operate this court in accordance with policy. She will not speak. Let’s go around the room. Tell me who you are and why you are here.”

The Worthlins went first, after saying who they were, added, “The deceased is our son-in-law and we were curious about the process.”

“Thank you, but we’re all deceased here. I assume you mean Caden is your son-in-law.” The judge said.

“That’s correct.”

“Thank you for coming.”

Next, Caden stood up, “So, I’m Caden Mason and I was killed recently. I guess that’s why we are here. I have no idea who Stacy is. So listen judge, this detective guy is okay,” he pointed to Hanson. “But he’s done some weird stuff the last few days. I’m not sure he knows what he is doing when it comes to this Stacy lady.”

Hanson, as usual, was not happy to have Caden along, but restrained himself from reaching over and porting him out of the room.

“Thank you Caden, I’ll keep that in mind. I’m glad to see you appear well. Death been okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine, takes some getting used to but it’s been overall okay. Honestly, Detective Trout has been a huge help. He showed me how to get around with your magic, which is helpful. In fact, you want to hear something rather funny, Judge?”

Hanson shook his head and buried his face in his hands as Judge Sherman said, “You can call me Jill and I’d love to hear something funny.”

“Well, in some ways my family’s better off with me dead, and I mean it. Last night my brother-in-law and his daughter stayed in my home, something I would have never allowed when I was alive.” Then he recalled that Tom had been sneaking into his home. “At least not knowingly, and I realized I was being dumb - plain old dumb about it. I think there has been a lot of healing.”

Stacy squirmed and rage filled her face as Caden spoke, something the judge seemed to ignore. “I’m very glad to hear it, and very mature of you to recognize it.”

Stacy’s fists were clenched and she began to visibly shake as Jill turned to her, “I am sorry Stacy, but porting out of here is not possible, so you can stop trying.”

“Then I’m leaving,” she yelled. Trout had no concept of exactly where they were. There were some windows but they were high above eye level and while light was streaming in, it was impossible to see anything out of them.There was only one door into the room and it was toward that door that Stacy now headed. Once she made it to the door she yelled, “I demand you open this door!”

The judge walked over to Stacy, and in a soft voice said, “Stacy, I know you don’t want to be here but it will be easier for you and all of us if we all work together. Can you come back and sit in your seat?”


“Very well,” The judge walked back to her chair, “Go on,” she said, gesturing for Chief Grassly who was next to introduce himself. He, Trout and Hanson all introduced themselves, briefly stating who they were.

The only one left was Stacy, who now sat in the fetal position on the floor by the door. She had her hands over her ears, which was purely symbolic because doing so had almost no effect in limiting what she heard. “Stacy would you like to introduce yourself?” the judge asked.

Silence prevailed, so the judge continued, “Very well.”

“Stacy, we are here because Hanson has accused you of influencing Jim Gillman to commit murder. It is our job to work together to come to an understanding of the facts of what happened. If we cannot agree, it’s left to my judgement as to what happened and what to do about it. Stacy, we’d rather proceed with your involvement but we will proceed either way. The silence continued.

“Hanson, what do you believe occured?”

“Thank you Jill,” he said as he stood. Hanson went to the middle of the circle and turned his focus directly to the judge. Some people are said to have presence and Trout couldn’t say why, but Hanson had it now. The focus was on him and he spoke without a hint of embarrassment or fear. He conveyed confidence and authority. And while he was never unsure of himself, this was something more. Clearly he was no stranger to the courtroom. “About six years ago Thomas Worthlin did a horrible thing. In a fit of rage and sorrow he took Daisy’s vehicle to find his wife who had run out on him. He discovered her in the arms of another man. He quickly left in even greater rage, seeking comfort from the only place he knew where to find it, a needle full of heroin. High as he could afford to get himself, he got behind the wheel of Daisy Mason’s Toyota Camry to get back home. At the intersection of Branch and Loos in Hartford, Wisconsin, he ran a red light, T-boning a Nissan Leaf being driven by a 19-year-old, Trish Wall. She died instantly.” The Worthlins were crying. The story still came with a certain amount of pain to them.

“It was at that intersection, only a few days ago, that I realized where I had seen Stacy, who is with us today. Oh, I had seen her at several places related to this case, but that is where I had seen her the first time. It was a picture of a grieving mother at that intersection laying a cross on the side of the road for her daughter. That grieving mother, Stacy Wall, was and still is, devastated.

“Tom pled guilty to manslaughter and was given 7 years. Stacy was outraged, she demanded that the penalty was a mere slap on the wrist. And while Tom was rotting in jail, Stacy began to see her life fall apart. Her bitterness was overwhelming and when her husband begged her to get help, she angrily decided he did not understand. Her marriage and her health deteriorated, and three years to the very day of the incident she died.

“First she was happy to be reunited with her daughter, but soon grew disappointed that her daughter was so forgiving of the fact that her life had been taken from her so early. Her daughter had done what she couldn’t - she moved on. The bitterness became rekindled and as it grew, so did the distance between her and her daughter. She blamed Tom and the person who had given him the weapon to kill her daughter, Daisy. When he was released after serving only five years for good behavior, she was ready. She came up with a plot to rob the two people she blamed for her daughter’s death of the things they loved most. For Tom, it was being with his daughter and for Daisy it was her husband Caden. In order for her to find a way, she needed someone easily influenced who would be willing to do her dirty work. She quickly focused on Jim Gillman. His lavish lifestyle left him deeply in debt and greedy for opportunities to enrich himself. It took some work, but she was able to help him land the CEO job at Canine Hope, an organization the Mason’s were already associated with. That set up Jim to be the perfect accomplice.

Suddenly Stacy jumped up and began to yell, “It’s not true!” as she walked towards the circle, “It’s a lie, he lies!”

“Stacy, thanks for joining us. Can you tell me what portion of what Detective Hanson has said is a lie?” the judge asked in a calm tone that was in perfect contrast to the emotions Stacy displayed.

“All of it, every word!” She yelled.

“Stacy, I’m afraid I need you to be more specific.” The judge replied.

“Why should I be? Let me out of here!”

“Stacy, I need you to calm down and not yell.” The Judge kept her calm.

“I will not calm down. Nor will I listen anymore. This system is ridiculous!”

“I will ask one more time. Please calm down.”

“No. I will not! If I need to I will keep yelling until this is over, or you let me out. I don’t need to be subjected…”

Suddenly Stacy ported next to the judge and while it appeared she was still yelling, no one could hear her. She stood and tried to go back to the corner she had been in but an invisible box constrained her to stay where she was. The constraint did not diminish her anger, but despite every visible sign of yelling, silence prevailed.

Trout was in awe. When alive he would have given half his income to have the ability to do that with his children.

“Continue, Hanson,” requested the Judge.

“Once it was clear that Jim would be her accomplice, Stacy began to work on motive. In order for her to be able to influence Jim, she needed Jim to have an incentive. The easy connection was for the Masons to leave money in their will for Canine Hope. After all, it was an organization they believed in deeply but despite her consistent prodings they would only leave token amounts. Caden, as you recall, you told me, ‘we felt the need and prodding to give more, and several times adjusted our will to give ten or twenty thousand dollars.’ But despite a large nest egg, Caden wanted his wife to be secure upon his death. Stacy needed the Masons to first, feel they were each separately secure without the other and second, to get a large sum that would finally make them feel set for life. The obvious solution came clear. The Worthlins needed to die.”

Mr. and Mrs. Worthlin looked at each other in shock. The idea that someone had orchestrated their deaths had never crossed their mind and even as they heard this theory they questioned its validity.

Hanson continued, “This solution was almost perfect. The Worthlins would bring sorrow to Daisy and Tom, it would cause a windfall for Daisy, and give her the security she needed. Tom had been in prison for almost five years and the thought of his mother dying before he was freed made her cold heart warm. But in that, there was one snag because Tom had been in jail for five years, and that was five years of sobriety. He was determined to stay that way for his daughter, Riley. Of course, Stacy would do all in her power to ensure he did go back to drugs but what if he had the strength to stay clean? Also, if the Worthlins died one-half of all they had would go to Tom. Not only would that diminish Daisy’s windfall but Tom would leave prison a wealthy man. He could afford to move out of the slums, where temptation and access to drugs was plentiful. His life might actually be good. That was something Stacy could not risk. So, before she could take care of the Worthlins she needed them to change their will. She began telling them daily, ‘No drug addict can handle that money. He’s only been sober because he’s been in prison. He needs to prove himself while he’s free.’

“And as she pressed these thoughts daily, the Worthlins contemplated giving Tom less and less, with more and more constraints.” Barbara began to cry and Stilton resolutely looked directly forward but his expression betrayed his thoughts. Both knew Hanson spoke the truth, but they were not angry at Stacy. Rather they felt remorse that they had listened to her promptings. Both felt that reducing Tom’s inheritance was wrong but couldn’t shake the feeling that they needed to. Now they knew why.

“A week after meeting with their solicitor to change their will, they were dead.”

The judge looked to Barbara who simply nodded. Hanson pressed on. “Killed by a drunk driver. When I met you, Mr. Worthlin, you called it poetic justice, yet it was actually planned, planned justice, or at least Stacy Wall’s form of justice. From the moment the ink dried on the updated will she became 100% dedicated to finding people under the influence and using them. Those with impared mental faculties are far easier to encourage and she didn’t need to convince them to kill you, just to get behind the wheel. Where to? Anywhere that would cross your path. The fact that encouraging them to get behind the wheel of a car might destroy or end their lives and the lives of other innocent people didn’t mean anything to her.

“She also likely encouraged you to spend more time on the road,” he said turning to the Worthlins. “Simple things: grocery runs, to the hardware store, sudden thoughts that it has been awhile since you went to the beach. Where were you going on the night you were killed?”

A courtroom of eyes turned to the Worthlins. The Worthlins turned to each other. Barbara was trying to gather the fragments of emotions that lay around her, at least enough to speak, “We were on our way home from the theater. It had been years since we went. The drive was longer than we generally took but I wanted to see, ‘A Street Car Named Desire.’ While it wasn’t something I’d usually thought of, I had several people tell me how good it was. A stranger in the line in the supermarket even mentioned it...” She trailed off, overcome by emotions. The thought that she allowed herself to be manipulated and it led to her grave left her wondering how much of her life was hers at all.

Hanson hated to cause distress but was tasked with bringing truth to light and continued. “While Stacy was pleased that her plan was progressing, her bliss was short lived. Bill Stoleman, the driver she had convinced onto the road that night was given 20 years for gross vehicular manslaughter. A sentence almost three times harsher than what Tom received for the death of her daughter.”

Everyone could tell Hanson was getting to Stacy. She had given up trying to end the proceeding by screaming, now with a deep scowl and stare she fixated on Hanson. Her internal suffering and pain was only overshadowed by her desire for Hanson to feel the same. Everyone felt the truth in what Hanson said, especially Stacy as he went on, “She felt it diminished her daughter's life. Why did Bill receive a worse sentence than Tom? Were the Worthlins of more value than her daughter? Her rage only accelerated her plan.

“With the inheritance going to Daisy, combined with the constant prodding from Stacy, it was only a few weeks before Caden and Daisy adjusted their wills. And after one more week Tom was out again. He had his daughter back but little else. Stacy saw to that. She worked double time to remind any potential employer that Tom couldn’t be trusted. Likewise, she kept working on Caden to ensure the rift in the family remained strong. But she knew Daisy couldn’t be turned against Tom. Daisy had failed to stop him from using her car that fateful night and her failure to say no this time would be her downfall. With Tom desperate for any work, she began to prompt Jim at Canine Hope to hire him. Why? It was perfect, she told him. Not only was he cheap skilled labor, something that appealed to Jim, he lived far enough away that he would need to stay somewhere closer, especially if he was forced to work late. Jim could ensure that would happen. Given the distance, he’d be violating his parole every time he went to work, an extra bonus just in case she needed it.

“As planned, a job was offered and accepted, Tom tried to make the commute work but constantly asked to stay late and come early and eventually he did what Stacy knew he would do; He asked Daisy if he could stay at her home at night. Daisy knew how hard it was for a felon to get work and decided to allow it, but didn’t think Caden would feel the same way. She worked out a deal that allowed Tom to come in through the doggy door late and leave the same way early. And to ensure Caden didn’t awake, she began giving him sleep medication. The dishonesty made her uncomfortable and she began to be more distant from her husband, but never told him. So, the secret was safe for a time but eventually Tom told Jim. Why? I’m not sure. Jim, likely at Stacy’s prompting, asked him where he was staying and if there was anything he could do to help. And Tom admitted he was at Daisy’s and must have told him about the peculiar relationship with Caden and thus the need to use the doggy door.

“The trap was laid. Stacy correctly guessed it was only a matter of time before Jim would be desperate for money, and she made sure to plant the obvious solution, have Canine Hope, the charity from which he was busily embezzling money, cash in on the Mason’s inheritance.

“But first the Mason’s two dalmations, who stood watch at the home, had to go. That part was simple, a night when Tom was forced to stay late he’d stop by the Mason’s and throw poison-laced dog treats over the fence. At least that was the plan until an email from Rebecca, a few days before the plan was put into action. That email said she was looking for a dalmatian. He knew the dog of her dreams would open up the purse strings, so why not nab one and poison the other? So he did.

“With the dogs out of the way, it was time for the next move. The plan was simple, Caden visited Canine Hope regularly, signing in at the front desk. This would provide the hand writing sample Jim would need to copy to create the suicide note. He mimicked the handwriting fairly well but like most counterfeits, pressed harder than is natural. Tom was forced to work all night, leaving Jim time to sneak through the doggy door, an easy feat with the dogs gone, then kill Caden and leave the suicide note.

“It was that note that first tipped me off that this was no suicide. I instantly recognized it’s lack of any specificity common to suicides, but something else bothered me that I couldn’t put my finger on.

“The note read: I can’t go on. I have been living a lie. I have cheated on my wife and know she will be devastated. I can’t be without her. So we say goodbye.”

“The last ‘we.’ I guess it could be interpreted that it was Caden saying goodbye to Daisy, but the note is not to Daisy. The note was written for Daisy and Caden to both say goodbye to the world because Jim had planned to kill them both. The problem was Caden.”

Caden noted that the last sentence was delivered with more emphasis, Hanson seemed to enjoy that sentence more than the others.

“Caden had grown leary of his wife’s sleep aides and refused to take them. Perhaps this was even influenced by our good friend Stacy. He heard Jim enter, got his gun and headed downstairs. Jim did not want a confrontation. The plan had been to shoot both at point blank range while they slept and then set the scene of the supposed murder, suicide. As he heard Caden come down the stairs he quickly jumped into the large safe in the corner of the room and waited, waited for time to help Caden drift off to sleep. Once all was quiet, he crept out of the safe and saw Caden on the sofa. The plan to kill both would require him to shoot Caden and then go upstairs to kill Daisy. He had a silencer but what if she heard? With the encouragement of the only other person in the room, he decided one death was enough.

“Stacy liked it better that way. She didn’t want Daisy dead... not yet at least. Rather, she relished the thought of Daisy living through the devastation of her husband’s supposed suicide. Plus, with Daisy alive, if they figured out it wasn’t a suicide they would find out Tom had been going to the home, a convict who hated his brother-in-law. Having him back in jail for murder before she decided to take Daisy and rob him of yet another loved one while he was behind bars, that would be perfect, and she almost got it.

“She had a busy couple of days. Making sure Jim fired Tom as soon as he left Caden’s. Making sure the neighbor regularly shared drugs with Tom, and pointing the police in his direction. I might throw in getting Jim to poison Daisy, but I’m not sure if Stacy helped on that one. Jim may have been on his own by that time. Either way it didn’t work.

“But,” he said, turning to the judge, “as you can see Stacy has consistently used her influence to harm, kill and lead to suffering and I put to the court she should be stopped... indefinitely.”

The judge sat back, looked at Hanson and said, “You have put this together very nicely but, with what evidence?”

For the first time since the trial began Stacy sat up from her sulking position and smiled. She, like everyone in the room, knew that evidence of people influencing others was hard to obtain. After all, physical evidence didn’t exist because physically she didn’t. And therefore physically hadn’t done anything.

But her smile diminished a bit as she turned to Hanson and saw he also smiled.

“Of course, I have extensive circumstantial evidence. Stacy’s clear anger at Tom. The fact that she was always there, at Caden’s on the day of his death, at Tom’s apartment in several cases, and at the police station...but I understand that is only circumstantial. I’d like to call my first and only witness, Trish Wall.”

Stacy’s look was of absolute horror, and for the first time since the judge had confined her, the court heard her speak, “My daughter should not have to come here.”

The judge maintained her calm demeanor and said, “You are correct. She does not have to come but she can choose to. Do you have an objection to hearing her testimony if she chooses to speak?”

The room was silent and after a long pause, Stacy finally said. “Yes.”

“And what is your objection?” questioned the judge.

Again silence owned the moment. And then you could see it. Stacy changed from a cold-hearted and defiant defendant to a mother, “because she’s honest.”

The judge said nothing, allowing the transformation to take place and as it did, Stacy in calm loving tones said, “She’s always been. Honest to a fault. It doesn’t matter who it was or who tried to stop her, she always told the truth. When the other kids in the neighborhood blamed others she’d admit when it was her. I remember the first time she broke a window. She told me right away. I always loved that about her. I loved everything about her. And then that man, that horrible man took it all from me, from her. Stole my chance to be at her wedding, to see her be a mother, and look into my grandkid’s eyes. Those are things I would never experience. So, yes, I believed he should pay. Trish wanted me to move on, to forgive. Somehow she could, but I couldn’t. The justice system in life had failed, so I did my best in death to correct it. I learned we could influence people and as the detective stated, I did. And I told Trish all along what I had done for her. She kept telling me to drop it, which only pulled us further apart, increasing my pain and my need for true justice. Yes, I influenced people but only to get justice for my little girl.” As she closed, tears flowed freely from her face.

“Thank you.” The judge said softly. “I know that is hard to say and I am grateful for your honesty, but just so I am clear, did you encourage Jim Gillman to kill Caden Mason?”

Reluctantly, she nodded.

“Stacy Wall,” The judge spoke softly with a compassionate tone, very different from how Trout was used to hearing a judge pass sentencing. “You have misused your influence in a way that shows disregard for the value of life. Influence is privilege, but for a time you will lose it. For the next five years, you…”

“Five years!” Hanson interrupted, clearly he was not afraid to let his views of the judge’s sentence be known.

The judge looked up at Hanson like a parent who is warning a child not to cross a line. Once she had a clear view right into his eyes she said, “You of all people should know how quickly people can change.” Hanson turned from her gaze. There would be no more outburst from him.

The judge turned back to Stacy. “As I was saying, for the next five years you will be unable to influence the living. This will be a time for you to appreciate how important the opportunity to influence anyone, living or dead is, Stacy.” The judge spoke as if they were the only ones in the room. “You are obviously talented at influencing. Not everyone is. When you get your power back, and you will, I hope you will reconsider using this power for good. You will find there is much healing if you do.” The judge turned to the reviewing judge who sat in complete silence this entire time. They made eye contact and the reviewing judge simply nodded. Judge Sherman looked up and said, “Case adjourned. You are all free to go, but if you are willing I would like to speak to Chief Grassly, Detective Hanson, and then Stacy.”

Trout could hardly believe it. The entire case had opened and shut in less than an hour. It was a whirlwind, and he had so many questions. But before he could ask, Caden and the Worthlins walked up to Hanson and Trout. Caden was the first to speak, “Well thank you, both of you. Even you, Hanson. You not only solved the case, but brought us closer together as a family and we will forever be grateful for that. Thanks.”

“Just doing our job,” Hanson said. It was clear that Hanson would just as soon forgo this part. The group wanted to continue their congratulations, Caden most of all. He wanted to do this by reliving many of the things they had done. He started by telling the Worthlins about the time he found himself jammed in the back seat of Jim’s Corvette. “I recall at that moment telling detective Hanson that there was more to this case than met the eye.”

“Excuse me a moment,” Hanson said as he walked away from the group towards Stacy. She stood, arms folded. Trout wondered what he had to talk to her about. Chief Grassly and the judge were huddled in the back of the room talking. Shortly after Hanson went over to talk to Stacy, the Chief called out to Hanson, “Your turn,” and then ported over behind Trout.

Caden's story clearly was going to go for a long time, Trout hated to be rude but as happy as the moment was he had too many questions not to ask. “Caden, I hate to interrupt but I have to get a few questions straight with my Chief,” he said, gesturing behind him.

“Got it, official business, never a dull moment in the force. Well if you ever need me to solve the case for you and Hanson again, just give me a call.” Caden said with a wink.

“Thanks, Caden.” He turned to the Worthlin’s, “Glad you could both make it.” They acknowledged him and with that ported away, leaving himself and the Chief.

“Did you really have questions or just want to get out of the conversation?” The Chief asked.

“Both.” Trout admitted.

“Okay, ask away.”

“I have so many. First of all, why the nod to that other judge at the end of the trial?”

“That was her validation that Judge Sherman had followed proper protocols and could officially close the trial.”

“I guess that makes sense. Also, there was that moment when Hanson questioned her for sentencing to five years.”

“Yeah, remind me to smack him for that,” the chief said.

“I guess talking back to the judge isn’t any more popular here than on the other side?” Trout asked.

“No, even less so. I’m shocked she didn’t send him to the box.”

“What she put Stacy in?”


“But that wasn’t my real question. What I am wondering was, she looked at Hanson and said that he of all people should know how quickly people can change. What did she mean?”

“I’m not sure I should be the one to tell you. I mentioned to you that Hanson is the reason we even investigate dead people. I think it is okay for me to tell you that Hanson was involved with the very first trial where we tried someone dead for their part in a murder. And after the trial he was very influential in helping them change, and become a very valued part of society.”

“Hanson was the first one to catch someone influencing living people to murder?”

“Yes, you might say that.”

“What happened?”

“That is not for me to tell. And I’m not sure I would recommend you ask Hanson, but I’ll leave that up to you.”

Trout’s questions were far from answered; in fact the conversation with Chief Grassly brought up more questions than answers. But they would have to wait because Hanson had ported by their side and Stacy began to head over to the judge.

“Shall we head back to my office?” The chief asked. I need to tell you both a few things.

“Sounds good,” Hanson said as he went to put his hand on Trout.

Trout stopped him, “I’ll drive,” he said as he put his hand on Hanson’s shoulder. Hanson rolled his eyes. Just as they were about to port they heard a loud scream come from the direction of the judge and Stacy. Trout turned to see who and why they had screamed but over his shoulder he only saw the wall of Chief Grassly’s office.

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Here is Chapter 20

Llewellyn Hanson- Dead Detective- Chapter 18

Move over Poirot, a new detective is here - columns - Hindustan Times

Here is the Link to the Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16, and Chapter 17

“Who was that?” Trout asked.

“That, my young friend, was our suspect,” Hanson answered.

“Wait a minute. Jim didn’t kill Caden?”

“Who didn’t kill me?” Caden walked back over to them.

Hanson audibly growned, “Don’t you want to celebrate with your wife?”

“No, She and Rebecca are in the study fawning over Mildred. As if she needed any more reasons to spoil that dog, now she thinks Mildred saved her life.”

“Didn’t she?” Trout asked.

“I think I had a decent share in the saving.” Caden said as Trout and Hanson shared a glance. “Anyway, it always made me sick how much Daisy spoiled Mildred, so I’d prefer not watch as it gets worse. So, back to the point, who didn’t kill me?”

“The person we were discussing did kill you, kind of,” Hanson said.

“I have three questions,” Caden began. “One, wasn’t it Jim who killed me? We have heard him admit it twice now. Two, how does one ‘kind of’ kill someone? And three, who is this person we are talking about?”

Hanson did want to teach Trout, but really didn’t want to have to explain anything to Caden. Yet as the deceased, he probably had a right to know. “Okay, so one, yes, Jim pulled the trigger. But if you two would pay attention you would notice things. For instance, we got Lung to ask questions, we got Mildred to save Daisy, and you got Daisy to feel sick. Spirits can influence the living for good or for evil.”

“Jim was told to kill me by some dead lady?”

“You could say that.”

“Eww, that’s just creepy. So again, who is this lady?” Caden asked.

“Stacy Wall.”

“Oh, okay. That makes sense. Since I have never even heard that name before.” Caden said exceeding his usual sarcasm. “So some woman who I don’t even know exists wants me dead. You sure about this?”

“It wasn’t about you.”

“Hello? Earth to Detective Hanson. Of course it was about me. I’m the dead guy. She had me killed, who was it about?”

“Tom,” Hanson said.

“Tom? Are you kidding me?”

“Listen when people on earth want to hurt or get at someone, they think of murdering the person, taking the person out of their will, or punching them. Whatever it is, they direct it at the person.”


“Don’t talk, let me finish. But when dead people want to get back at someone they dont kill them. They know what death is like, they see that while it is miserable for some, for many it’s wonderful. No, when dead people want to harm the living they seek to kill those they love. Because both pain and happiness are far more intense for the living. They would rather try to orchestrate their victim’s misery in life than kill them.”

“Well, jokes on them. Tom didn’t even like me.”

“No surprise there,” Hanson said without hesitation. “But he did love Daisy.”

“I don’t get it.”

Hanson was tempted to again repeat his lack of surprise, but decided it was time to move on. “Caden, her trial is tomorrow. You are welcome to attend.”

“Sure, it will be fun to be at a trial for my murder. How do I get there?”

“Trout will pick you up.”

“Well boys, I think I’ll go join Daisy. Hopefully the fawning has hit a manageable level by now. See ya.” And with that, Caden headed towards the study.

“The trial is tomorrow?” Trout asked in shock.

“Yup. We move a bit quicker on the legal side over here. I’m not sure if it would be physically possible to be any slower.” Hanson said.

Trout was not going to defend the speed of the American legal system. “How are we going to trial tomorrow if we have no case?”

“We don’t? I think our case is very strong.”


“You let me work on this side. I need you to close out the case on Jim.”

“” Trout asked.

“I think our notes are very good. All that’s left is the close out with the Chief. Why don’t you go do that.”

“Wouldn’t you be better to cover that?”

“No, I have a few other things to do and it will be good for you.”

“Okay, when?”

“I told him you’d meet him at the office in 2 minutes. You better go.”

“But, but...what do I...” Trout’s stammers had no audience. Hanson was gone.


Trout appeared in the office of Chief Grassly. Grassly sat on an office chair, but not behind the desk, because whomever had last been there had tucked it in too tight for the Chief to fit in. Luckily, another chair was left empty for Trout.

“Chief, Hanson said I needed to close out with you.”

“Sounds good, have a seat,” Trout did. “How was working with Hanson?”

What a question. Trout had a hard time even thinking of a response. Hanson had taught him so much, yet at the same time withheld so much. He expected a lot and offered little praise, yet he had grown to really appreciate him. It was less than a week ago he had met Hanson and yet couldn’t imagine doing this work without him. As this went through his head all that came out of his mouth was, “good.”

“Learn a lot?” The chief asked.


“Good. You know he’s the best we have.” Trout nodded as the chief continued. “And he likes you and thinks you're good.”

Now this was a surprise to Trout. “How do you know that?” He assumed it was something you told new people, true or not.

“I’ve received the notes and the case. When Hanson realized the key to getting the beats to focus on Jim was the dog he had failed to note Rebecca’s name, but you didn’t. It was your notes that allowed him to get Rebecca and Daisy together. That impressed him.”

“That brings up a question I have. Hanson seems able to port and quickly find anyone. How does he do it?”

“I don’t claim to know how Hanson does much of what he does but I do know this one. As a member of enforcement you are able to port to anyone as long as you can identify specifically who they are. We always say that you need a name and a relative. But Hanson is far better at using that then anyone else so don’t get discouraged if you can’t do it right away.”

Trout understood.

Chief Grassly promoted a much more open atmosphere than Hanson and Trout decided to take advantage. “I know I’m supposed to be the one who is reporting out but I have another question.”

“Go ahead.”

“I was reviewing the notes, and it said something about Hanson using some sort of authority, I can’t recall.”

“Bring it up.” The chief offered.

Trout wasn’t sure how but as he thought about it the part of the notes he was looking for appeared on his visor. “Here it is,” he read, “Hanson utilized the authority to pressure shift to create a distraction to alter a subject's behavior outside direct interaction of the case.’ I noticed it was flagged for internal review.”

Chief Grasly laughed, “Glad to see you are reviewing your case file. When did you have time to do that?”

“I’ve been sleeping less.”

“Taking after Hanson huh? Well, first I will say no one has more flags for internal review than Hanson. And while it definitely adds to my work load, it's not a bad thing. Hanson pushing the envelope has changed how we operate. I noticed that you influenced Mildred to save Daisy's life. Influencing the living is common practice but the idea of us doing that as enforcement outside of influencing beats was considered inappropriate until Hanson started doing it. He is the first to influence animals, and has perhaps gotten a little too creative in his use of that particular skill.” The incident with Justice the Lion was still on the chief’s mind, and unfortunately still in internal review. But that is a story for another day.

“At the time, when Hanson first influenced animals it caused a huge stir in the department,” the chief continued. “But in the end, it was decided that if everyone else has the right to influence them then why shouldn’t we?”

“And nothing has changed in how we operate more than going after the dead for their involvement in a murder.”

“You didn’t always do that?” Trout asked.

“No. Our focus was helping bring the living to justice. But I haven’t really answered your question. The specifics of the case you are asking about is when Hanson basically created a strong wind to distract Tom from using drugs. This is a difficult case. See, we are granted some very specific powers and influence in order to do our job. We already discussed that we can port to the location of any specific person, most people can only port to specific locations. Meaning it’s a lot easier to hide from others than from us. Likewise you have power to control limited aspects of weather.”

“I can control the weather?” Images of Poseidon rising up from the water flooded Trout's mind.

“Don’t look too excited, for one thing, most of us are not very good at it. Hanson, of course, being the exemption. Also, it is very limited, not only in scope but it can only be used when necessary to bring someone to justice. Any abuse of the power and it can be taken away.”

“Will it be taken from Hanson?”

“Possibly, that’s why it’s under review. If he’d done it for his own benefit or out of anger, he’d lose it for sure. But given it was for the benefit of someone else, and someone important to the case, I think he’ll be fine. Who knows, maybe ten years from now we’ll all be doing it.”

“Who decides? You said internal review, who does the review?”

“The committee of chiefs, myself and my peers do the initial review and then we take our solution to the board for a final decision.”

“Who is on the board?”

“The board is over everything we do in enforcement. It’s a group of mostly current judges.” He turned to the side and added, “But hopefully you won’t get as familiar with the process as your current partner.” The chief looked back at Trout and said, “But I do want to say ‘good work.’ You and Hanson ran a great case, got your guy and did so using the beats, so we didn’t have to bring anyone living in and that’s the goal.”

“Hanson said that we didn’t want to have to bring people in. How do we bring people in?”

“Well, we don’t like to do that. But if we fail to get any justice, and we feel we have a good case against someone, the crime is serious enough and we have evidence they may repeat the crime, we, with proper approval,” He was sure to add this last part, given that Hanson was training him, “can choose to bring them in.” He looked over at Trout who continued to look as puzzled as ever, so rather than make him repeat the question the chief added, “We end their life.”

“I get that, but how?”

“A lesson for another day. Bringing in people at all is another practice we owe to your partner. But something we are supposed to avoid at all costs. Our first choice is always allow the justice system of the living to run its course, no matter how faulty we may think their system is.”

“Are we involved in the beats’ court case?”

“We can be. We have lawyers who usually try to handle that part. Some of our detectives do not like to use the lawyers and when I say some, what I mean is Hanson, of course.”

Trout laughed.

“But the case on Jim is so cut and dry even Hanson might let our lawyers handle it.”

“What about this case tomorrow?” Trout asked.

“Besides the fact that Hanson has requested a trial tomorrow, I know nothing about it. Well that and that he and the defendant have refused lawyers. So, it should be interesting, Hanson’s cases always are.”

“Does he usually win?”

“That’s a tough question. He always gets his point across. However, Hanson does not always agree with the judge's sentence. But we will see what tomorrow brings. Congratulations Detective Armantrout, you are almost done with your first case.” The chief smiled as he shook his hand.

Trout tried to smile but it was a half-effort at best. “Chief, one more thing.”

“Go ahead.”

Trout spoke softly as he continued. “My death. You might recall I was T-boned by a drunk driver.”

“I remember.”

“Well, this idea that someone dead may have influenced the driver. Did you, I mean we, look into that?”

“Detective, the person who hit you was arrested on the scene. While we know, thanks to your partner, that dead people do get involved in murder, we only open up a case if there is a murder to investigate. I don’t mean to downplay your death, Detective, but there was no evidence that you were the victim of a murder, but rather of a woman’s poor judgement. Sometimes an accident, unfortunate as it may be, is just that.”

“That makes sense, but can I look into it?” Trout asked.

“You will be given a new case soon.”

“I mean on my own time.”

The chief laughed and shook his head. “You are like Hanson. You are free to do whatever you like on your own time, but be careful, this is a personal project, not an assignment. If you use the benefits or powers of enforcement for personal gain you will lose them, and potentially your position.”

“I understand, Sir.”

“I might be the Chief but you don’t need to call me Sir. Now I have another meeting, but I will see you tomorrow in court.”


Hanson had lied. Sending Trout to see Chief Grassly was not because he had any further investigation. The case he had against Stacy was not what needed attention. He had other plans. The mine had long been abandoned, the small home’s only remains were a few rotted logs. Only a trained eye would even recognize that they’d come from the once solid log cabin. But Hanson didn’t need the trained eye of his detective days to know how each one fit together, he had placed each one with his own hands.

The mountains were so peaceful and Hanson wished he could breath in the crisp fresh air. Here his mind was filled with peace and sweet memories. But it was once a place of intense pain for Hanson. There was a time that he swore he would never return, never face the pain. But now between each case he found himself coming here, back to collect the pieces of his soul.

“You’re back,” a voice came from behind him. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Hanson looked up as the man walked to him and sat down next to him on the log. “I can’t stay away.”

“Me neither.”

The men sat in silence for a while. Hanson finally broke the quiet, “It’s amazing to me, with all the crowded cities, no one has chosen to build any homes out here.”

“You know as well as I do that we both convince anyone who gets the idea of building anywhere close to this place that it would be a terrible idea.”

“People tried to convince me it was a bad place to build here also, but that didn’t stop me.”

“No one is as stubborn as you, Hanson.”

“That’s probably true.” Again silence filled the air as both men took in the trees, the flowers and memories of what once was. “Do you think it’s odd that we keep coming back to the place where we both killed someone?”

“I think I come looking for forgiveness,” the man replied.

“I’ve told you a hundred times, I forgive you.” Hanson said putting his arm around the man.

“I know you do. I just can’t forgive myself.”

Hanson thought before whispering into the breeze, “Me neither, me neither.”

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Here is Chapter 19

Llewellyn Hanson- Dead Detective- Chapter 17

Move over Poirot, a new detective is here - columns - Hindustan Times

Here is the Link to the Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15, and Chapter 16

The conversation went well into the morning and now Hanson knew he needed to get back. Hanson ported to Caden’s. Trout was already there speaking to Caden in the living room. Daisy was standing in the living room as well, pacing back and forth while taking deep breaths and saying, “I can do this, I can do it.”

“She can do what?” Hanson asked.

“We don’t know,” Trout admitted.

Turning to Caden Hanson asked, “What did she and Rebecca talk about last night?”

Caden put on a weak smile.

“You fell asleep didn’t you?”

“They were looking at scrap books, what do you expect me to do?” Caden asked.

“What I asked you to do,” Hanson stated.

As she continued to breath deep Mildred came up and licked her hand. This caused Daisy to jump, I almost forgot. Mildred, I need you to stay hidden for a while. She took her into the study and shut the door. No sooner had she done so then the doorbell chimed. The three dead men in the room all ported in front of the window at the same time. Hanson thought back to how nice it was when these two only ported when he wanted them to. Being smashed together brought them all back to when they rode in Jim’s corvette and looking out the window, there it was. And standing on the porch was Jim.

“Oh great,” Hanson complained, looking at Caden. “She’s going to confront the murder herself. This should give him a chance to finish the job the coffee failed to do. This has all the makings of a bad horror film.”

“Don’t blame me,” argued Caden. “I didn’t know she was going to invite Jim over.”

“Of course, you didn’t, because while she was planning this you were sleeping.”

Caden stated, “Sorry, I’m human, I need sleep. What’s the big deal?”

“First off, you are dead, you don’t need sleep. And second, the big deal is, she will say, ‘Jim did you dog nap Mildred and give it to Rebecca?’ and he’ll say, ‘you know about that?’ She will replay, ‘yes, I know about that and am going to call the police.’ ‘No you won’t,’ he’ll say. ‘Yes I will,’ She’ll reply. After a good holsome debate he’ll pull out a gun and then Daisy will be pushing her namesake up out of the ground.”

“You don’t even know if Jim brought his gun.” Caden optimistically offered. As the words left his mouth Jim, still waiting for the door, tapped his jacket, clearly verifying for himself that his gun was still there and ready to go.

Caden seeing this joined in Hanson’s concern with a simple, “uh oh.”

Daisy was about to open the door, when Caden yelled, “Don’t let him in Honey.” The thought, like last time, clearly got to her. Daisy stopped her reach to the door knob and paused, before saying, “No, I can do this.” Then she grabbed the door and opened it.

“Would it kill you to listen to me just once?,” Caden yelled.

Hanson whispered to Trout, “In fairness to Caden, she didn’t listen to me on this one either.”

“Good morning Jim, thanks for coming,” Daisy said as she motioned him in.

“Well you mentioned it was important, and if it’s important to you then it’s important to me.”

Caden was letting out all his frustration on Jim, punching him over and over, but he had learned by this time it was worthless, he simply didn’t know what else to do.

Jim calmly asked, “I smell coffee, you had any coffee yet this morning?”

“No, but would you like some?”

“No, no, I’m fine.”

“You don’t mind if I go ahead and have some?” Daisy asked.

“Oh no, you go right ahead,” Jim said with a smile.

After getting him to sit she went and poured them both a cup. She walked back to the living room, “I poured you one, just in case you change your mind.”

They both sat and set their cups down. They sat quietly for a second and Jim asked, “Aren’t you going to drink your coffee?”

“In a minute, it’s still a little too hot. Well Jim, I wanted to call and talk to you about the other day.” She paused, “I shouldn’t have said some of those things.”

Jim smiled, Caden did not, “Of course, you should say those things, and a lot worse, why are you apologizing to this guy?”

Hanson ported back into the room, which was a surprise to both Caden and Trout who had missed that he had left. Hanson had a peace about him that was not there when Jim first entered and with a smile said, “Caden, calm down, I think your wife knows what she is doing.”

“Getting herself killed, you mean?” Caden asked.

“I don’t think so,” Hanson said.

“And why is that?”

“You’ll see.”

“Always so mysterious with you,” Caden replied.

The argument would have likely continued but Daisy spoke and they wanted to hear so even Caden shut it. “Jim, my point is...perhaps,” Her delivery was excessively slow, but Jim simply assumed apologies were not her strong suite. “What I mean to say is…” She was in the middle of yet another long pause when the doorbell rang. “Oh, I wonder who that could be.” She stood, went to the door and once opened she revealed quite the congregation. There was Captain Driggs, Tom in handcuffs, Detective Lung and smiling behind Rebecca, with a big smile on her face. And unseen to Daisy, the dead contingent of the party, Stilton and Barbara.

“This had better be good.” Captain Driggs whined as he was let in.

“Oh Jim, look who is here. Why don’t we all have a seat in the living room.”

As the group trickled through the door, Jim finally recognized Rebecca and all the color drained from his face. He looked as dead as so many others in the room. He quickly stood up, “I don’t want to interrupt this meeting, and I have a very busy morning. It was good to see you all, but I must be off.” He started heading for the door, but Daisy cut him off.

“No, stay,” Daisy was now the one with the smile on her face. “I want you to get to know Captain Driggs and Detective Lung.”

“Why?” bristled Driggs.

Daisy ignored him. “You of course, already know Tom and Rebeeca.”

“Hi Jim,” Rebecca said with a huge grin.

“Yes, but I really have to go,” Jim was determined and made a clear motion to the door, he would shove Daisy if necessary. She stood her ground and as he came in contact and prepared to shove, Detective Lung grabbed him by the shoulder and said, “You better stay and have a seat.”

Soon they were all cozily sitting in the living room. The two large wingback chairs that faced the love seat and couch were filled by Daisy and Rebecca. The love seat was occupied by Jim and Lung, who had decided he better stay close to this guy. This left Captain Driggs and Tom, who was forced to sit next to the large blood stain, which became the lone empty seat. Caden decided it was the right spot for him and sat down. This left Trout, Hanson and the Worthlin’s standing behind the loveseat and couch.

“Well before we start why don’t I get each of you a cup of coffee,” Daisy said as she went to the kitchen and poured out 4 mugs.

As Daisy was in the kitchen Rebecca spoke up, “Well last night Daisy and I were talking.”

“It’s a shame Caden wasn’t listening,” Hanson said in a half cough.

“And we thought it would be good if we all got together and talked through a few things.”

“Can you just get to the point and tell me why we are here?” Driggs continued his whining.

“We will get to that.” Daisy said as she walked back in and handed out the coffee.

“Hanson,” Caden called out. “And you thought my wife was going to get shot. Looks like she has it under control to me.”

Hanson chose not to engage. Except for Caden’s side remarks, he was very pleased with how things were progressing.

“Well, let's begin by making sure we all know each other. Captain Driggs and Detective Lung you got to meet Rebecca today.”

“Yes, she barged into our office this morning and demanded we show up with Tim here,” Captain Driggs throughout.

Daisy ignored the name error and continued to smile as she spoke, “But you haven’t met Jim. Jim why don’t you introduce yourself to the detectives.”

“Hi,” was all he could muster.

Hanson was watching Jim very closely. He was trying to get to Lung that the man was armed. He noticed that Jim's eyes glanced around intently from person to person.

“I see Jim is being shy,” Daisy added. “See Jim is the CEO of Canine Hope, the organization that gets the majority of my husband's money according to his will.”

Detective Lung sat up and took notice after that tidbit of information. “See Detective,” Daisy turned her attention to Lung, she could see he was the one who was prepared to listen. “Three weeks ago, my dog Mildred went missing.”

“You called us over here over your missing Dog?” Captain Driggs had found just the excuse he needed, “I’m sorry lady, your missing dog doesn’t make your brother any less guilty.” Jim was really starting to like this Captain Driggs. The lug next to him he could do without, but this Captain seemed like a great guy. Any crook would be happy to have him on their case. “I’m sorry but we need to leave.” He stood with these last words. Deciding exiting was a movement he could get behind, Jim stood as well.

Detective Lung joined in as well by standing, but he brought the exit party to an abrupt end. He shoved Jim back into his seat, “You will be staying here,” then turning his head and fixing his eyes on Captian Driggs said, “and so will you.”

“Subordination,” Driggs said, but not with much force. Lung only increased his stair on Captain Driggs eyes and the Captain backed down, with a turn of the head and a bend of the knees, he was back in his seat.

Seeing he had gotten things to where they needed to be, Lung turned to Daisy, “Please continue, Mrs. Mason.”

“Thank you. So, as I was saying 3 weeks ago my Mildred went missing but last night she came home.”

“Oh joy,” Driggs muttered.

“See, she has been with Rebecca.” Rebecca nodded to add volatility to the story and Daisy continued, “But how Rebecca came to get Daisy is a very interesting tale, “Jim do you care to tell the officers?”

All eyes turned to Jim.

“Clearly, I don’t know,” Jim tried.

“That’s funny because you gave her to me,” Rebecca offered.

Detective Lung stared at Jim.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jim said. “I found the dog. How was I to know it was Daisy’s?”

“You told me you rescued it from an abusive owner,” Rebecca was getting angry as she spoke.

Hanson continued to note Jim’s every movement and saw Jim’s eyes watching closely as Tom who with handcuffed hands raised the mug to his lips. A smile cracked over Jim’s lips as he continued to lie, “I found the dog nearly starved wandering the streets, we were fairly confident it came from an abusive home.”

“And a place that prides itself on proper animal care, including installing chips, didn’t bother to check for one. One they had installed?” Daisy added. With no shortage of energy.

The back and forth continued but Hanson knew what needed to be done.

“Caden, you must insist to your wife that she’s sick, very sick.”

“What?” You are the only one that might be a bit off kilter. My wife is fine.”

“She’ll listen to you.”

“She hasn’t so far.”

“I could tell you were getting to her both times you told her not to open the door. I am convinced if you really try you can convince her she is sick.”

The group was yelling at Jim and Hanson could see he was debating if he should go for his weapon. He simultaneously was trying to convince Jim that he was more likely to get away if he didn’t reach for his gun and trying to continue to warn Lung about it’s presence.

“So, how do I make her feel sick?”

“Tell her over and over that she is. Focus on how awful her stomach feels.” Caden gave Hanson a look. “Look Caden, you might not like me, but helping me has always worked out, I need you to trust me. We don’t want this thing to get ugly.”

“Fine,” Caden walked over to his wife and almost mockingly began to repeat in his best hypnotist impressination, “You feel very sick, very sick indeed. Look into my eyes and you will begin to feel sick and queasy. Then you will throw up. The room is spinning.” Caden stopped, “This is ridiculous.”

“Keep going, and mean it,” Hanson demanded. He could see Jim begin to reach into his jacket.

“Honey,” Caden’s voice turned to honesty. “I’m afraid you need to be sick, really sick. Queasy like never before.”

The yelling went on and finally Driggs yelled above the crowd and said, “This is silly, I won’t be silenced by my junior partner.”

This took Lungs focus off of Jim and it was all Jim needed, “He reached into his jacket grabbed his gun and was moving it out when Daisy grabbed the attention of the room, “I don’t…” she put her hand over her head and looking down said, “I don’t feel so good.” Silence fell over the group. And Jim smiled as he relaxed his hand and allowed the gun to settle back into his jacket pocket.

Caden was shocked, “It worked.”

“Keep going,” instructed Hanson.

“Right, you feel tired and sick and need rest.” Caden continued

“I’m sorry everyone, but I suddenly feel really odd.” Daisy said as she continued to hold her head and stomach.

Jim pulled his empty hand out and began to laugh. “You guys want to know the truth about Mildred?” No one responded, as they were all perplexed by Jim’s sudden change in behavior. “Yes, I broke into your yard and took her. I had planned to poisen her, just like I did to your other stupid dog, but when I found out Rebecca here was desperate for a Dalmation I decided to take her, so I could squeeze some money out of her. Worked like a charm.”

“Why kill the dogs?” Lung asked.

“You know dogs. They make it very difficult to quietly sneak into a house and shoot somebody.”

Caden looked strangely at Jim. “I hate this guy, after all, he did kill me. But I’m starting to feel bad for him. He’s got to be the dumbest criminal on earth.”

Hanson looked up at Caden, “Let’s just hear him out.”

“That’s right. I snuck in here on that night. I made sure Tom was working, I had planned to shoot both you and Caden in bed but Caden heard me and came down stairs. I hid in the safe until he fell asleep. Then decided I’d kill him. It was so easy to just stick the gun with the silencer to his head and pull the trigger. I then dropped the note I had prepared with your husband's handwriting as a template. I knew I could come back and kill you if I needed more money.”

Lung stood up, “Jim you are under…”

Jim shoved him down, “I don’t think so,” and pulled out his gun. “Nobody moves,” he yelled as he stepped back away from everyone.

“I have been telling you about that gun since you got here,” Hanson said in desperation.

This thought turned up in Lung’s mind, and he realized that he should have known this guy could be armed. This only added to his embarrassment and he wished he hadn’t been so casual in making the arrest. Jim’s willingness to openly confess had led him to assume he was prepared to come quietly. But despite his extreme embarrassment he became the first to speak, “So you plan to shoot all five of us.”

“No. I plan to watch you for the next little while as you all slowly die.”

Rebecca joined in, “I’m no expert on life expectancy but that may take a while, even in my case.”

“Very funny Mrs. smarty pants. But you all drank the coffee, I saw it. I snuck in here two nights ago and filled that coffee so full of poison. So, trust me, I’ve had some experience in the matter, you all don’t have much time left on this earth.”

All of their faces went completely white, suddenly none of them felt very good. Lung picked up the coffee to smell it, hardly believing it could be true. The only person who reacted differently was Daisy. Suddenly she didn’t feel so bad. It was her turn to start laughing, “The coffee. You poisoned the coffee.” She sputtered out between a belly aching laugh. “My hand,” she looked down at the bandage. “That explains it. You poisoned the coffee.”

While Jim was staring at this woman he assumed was having a mental breakdown before she died, Hanson pushed the thought as strongly as he could to Lung, ‘the coffee now.’

Lung threw his coffee onto Jim’s face and Jim instantly cried out in pain as he tried to wipe it away. Lung did not just grab for the gun but wisely did a full body tackle that sent him and Jim sprawling onto the floor. The gun went off and put a nice hole in the ceiling. Lung fully on top of Jim quickly took the weapon and then spun him around as he slapped the cuffs on. With his face shoved into the floor Jim got out, “It doesn’t matter, you’ll all be dead soon enough.”

The gun shot had stopped Daisy’s laughing, but once she and everyone else realized Detective Lung had everything under control. She picked the laughing up where she had left off, “I think we will all be just fine.”

“Yes, do fill us in,” Tom said to his sister. Whether or not they were about to drop dead seem to preoccupy most of the thoughts of those in the room.

“I made coffee last night, and when Mildred showed up she wouldn’t let me drink it. She bit my hand to stop me. I didn’t know what had gotten into her. She threw the coffee, the pot I made and the whole can on the floor. This was a new can.”

We may all have moments when someone delivers bad news, but news that the people you confessed to murder to, who you thought were almost dead, are all actually quite healthy and likely to live for at least long enough to be witnesses at your trial, may top the charts of personal bad news. And Jim felt it.

The rest however felt a much different sensation at Daisy’s announcement. The world was full of springtime and rainbows for the rest. And it was with particular glee that Lung read Jim his rights. And even Driggs was smiling as he took the cuffs off Tom.

Tom could only think of one thing, “Where is Riley?”

“She is upstairs,” Daisy said with a smile and Tom bounded upstairs. It had only been a day since he had seen her, but having lost and regained his freedom and thinking he had lost his life only to find it very much still his, made this reunion particularly poignant.

As the officers walked out with Jim, Trout spoke up, “Wow, that worked out rather nicely. I guess our work is done.”

“Not for us it’s not,” Hanson spun around and in the corner where Trout had not noticed her sat a woman. “Hi Stacy, I knew you wouldn’t miss it.” Anger filled her whole body as she disappeared.

Here is Chapter 18