Another Case for Muller and Scurry

Roxy Muller put down the folder, “It’s only a matter of time, you know.”

“You don’t have a case against me. You might as well let me go.”

“I have a witness who saw you arguing with Clive Marx two nights ago.”

“Yes, but he was alive when I left him, and, as far as I know, he still is.”

“We know you killed him. You argued about his affair, then you killed him and disposed of the body.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You discovered that he had been seeing your cousin, Gertrude.”

“We split up months ago. Why should that matter to me?”

“Perhaps you still had feelings for him. Perhaps you felt betrayed.”

“And perhaps not. Perhaps this is all guesswork. Perhaps you have no idea. And perhaps you should let me go.”

Muller pulled out some photographs.

“This is your business – Wicker Wocker Woo – the one you started with Clive? You make wicker furniture and such. That hardly sounds like a profitable business.”

“You’d be surprised. We even export.”

“Yes. I’ve seen your books. You sell a lot to Kublastan.”

“Yes. So what?”

“Wicker is an interesting material. You use synthetics, don’t you?”

“Yes. Natural wicker isn’t strong enough for furniture.”


Over at the shop, Muller’s partner, Danny Scurry, was going over the forensic evidence. He checked a drawer and pulled out a bunch of keys, “We’re looking in the wrong place, guys. They have a warehouse.”

The team arrived at the address Scurry found and he opened the door. The air was heavy with the smell of resin, “This is where they make the wicker. Check the offices and the equipment.”

The team searched the building quickly and efficiently. In the meantime, Scurry went to the loading bay where hundreds of pieces were waiting to be loaded into trucks. He carefully examined them, opening the various boxes and baskets, looking inside the packs of chairs and tables. Then he smiled, “Magnus, come here. Check this out.”

There was a knock on the door, and Danny Scurry walked in, taking the seat beside Muller.

“We found him.”

“You couldn’t have.”

“We found an odd looking hamper, so we checked it out. In with the synthetic wicker material we found human DNA. Clive Marx’s DNA. If you had spread the material around, we might have missed it, but you made the fatal mistake.”

“What was that?”

“You put all your ex in one basket.”