BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Some of you may remember me reporting on the graphic and horrendous Barbie Murders some time back. Actually, it was a Ken murder, but Barbie was a person of interest in the investigation. If you missed it, here is a link to help you get caught up:

Barbie Murders Part 1 (aka – Solving Murders At Home… August, 27 2008)

Well, anyway, after next to no media attention whatsoever (due to the election, I assume) and a low budget investigation (read: me, a scratched magnifying glass, and a couple of notes scribbled in crayon) I think there has been a break in the case.

Actually, this all happened quite by accident, as many breaks in cases do. No one called to rat out Babs or anything, but let’s just say I happened to be in the right place at the right time.

You see, at 5:07 AM, Friday, November 14, 2008, I was roused from my slumber by an intense feeling. A feeling that was demanding in no uncertain terms my immediate and undivided attention. At first my heart began to race as adrenalin dumped into my system, but within a matter of seconds it became apparent that the sensation was, in fact, my bladder telling me to get to the bathroom post haste. (Hey, I never said there was anything supernatural about the sensation.)

So, anyway, I dragged myself from beneath the covers and stumbled down the stairs. A quick detour allowed me to go ahead and flip the switch on the coffee pot in the kitchen before backtracking and hitting the bathroom. After “taking care of business” I set about washing my hands and happened to notice something from the corner of my eye. Being the highly trained investigator that I am, I finished with my sanitizing operation then dried my digits, lest any moisture on my hands destroy or contaminate evidence.

As I had done weeks before, I pulled back the shower curtain. I had to stare for a while, and even squint a bit, as I was doing all this sans glasses (or even scratched magnifying glass for that matter)…

What I saw was so damning that I felt the need to go get my glasses just to be sure I was making no mistakes.

After obtaining my spectacles I returned to the scene, magnifying glass and crayon in hand. My corrected vision served only to show me what I had thought I had seen to begin with.

Ken, still extremely corpsified, now had his little plastic head jammed firmly back onto his shoulders. So firmly in fact that he really no longer had a neck. But, since he’s dead I don’t suppose he really needs one, so I guess it is a moot point… However, I digress… So, Ken – all dead and stuff – was now sprawled face down on the tile with a “Hello Kitty” washcloth draped over his rigid body. (I assume the coroner was out of sheets and body bags, and therefore just used the first available thing.)

Now, this was interesting enough in itself. I mean, weeks have passed and the body still hadn’t been moved, not to mention the reattachment of the head. But the primary reason I had rushed for my glasses was what I had seen sitting mere inches from lifeless corpse of the victim. You see, initially I had thought I might be suffering from double vision, for no longer was there simply Babs sitting there looking upon Dead Ken with a look of satisfaction. There were now two Barbies hanging out at the crime scene. What was worse is that they were both wearing the same sparkly blue bathing suit.

Upon bespectacled inspection, however, I discovered that the newcomer was a redhead, whereas Babs from the original scene was a brunette. And there they were… Both of them. But, that’s not all…dare I say it…yes, I dare. You see, they were just a bit entangled with one another, if you know what I mean…

At this juncture, the prevailing theory is that Babs got tired of Ken the Eunuch and decided to explore her wild side, thereby hooking up with Evil Redheaded Babs at a local bar. Before long it simply became a classic love triangle…and, well…we all know what can happen with those. Redheaded Babs, what with redheads being evil and all, likely convinced her new found love that it would be a good idea to be rid of Ken the Eunuch once and for all… And there you have it. A crime of passion. Pretty Poison all rolled into a redhead and a brunette.

Babs-B and her girlfriend Babs-R have now been detained for questioning. I had to borrow handcuffs from the Miranda action figure on my desk, but I don’t think she’ll miss them. She had plenty. Right now the two detainees aren’t saying much, but they do keep smiling an awful lot. Just can’t seem to wipe the smirks off their perfect little faces.

Funeral arrangements for Ken are on hold until someone claims the body. I get the feeling we could be waiting quite a while…

More to come…

Murv

Yep… You would think that considering the books I pen I would eschew getting myself involved in any more mysteries than are absolutely necessary. After all, making them up, plotting them out, and then attaching them to paper through the use of words should be enough for one guy, correct?

But no… Leave it to me to get myself involved in a murder investigation here at home.

So, let me explain the event leading up to this homicide for you:

I was making one of my daily trips to the library (yes, that would be a euphemism- library, can, throne room, crapper… take your pick.) Anyway, there I am, reading through the latest issue of Missouri Conservationist when over the top edge of the magazine I spy something. At first, I thought nothing of it, but that only lasted a second or two. You know how it is – you see something and it doesn’t quite register at first, but then after a heartbeat or so it smacks your right between the eyes… Well, that’s pretty much what happened. So, lowering the magazine, I took a longer look.

Lo and behold, there on the back corner of the bathtub, not quite covered by the shower curtain, are Barbie and Ken. Now, I’m definitely no prude- if you’ve read the Miranda Trilogy, you know that to be true- however, I have to admit that I blushed. You see, Barbie, in all her curvaceous glory, was grappled with the buff eunuch in a “girl-on-top missionary position”. It was obvious that they had been swimming in the bathtub at some point because Babs’ long, flowing, nylon hair showed signs of having dried without the benefit of combing or detangling. Ken, on the other hand, had little problem in that department, what with the helmet hair and all, but I digress. The point is, putting two and two together told me that after some frolicking in the sudsy surf, the two had apparently become amorous and, well, needed to do some business. Perfectly natural. Basic carnal urges and all that… So, all good…

At any rate, as I said, I blushed, then went back to reading about hummingbird feeders while making it a point to finish the article and all my business associated with the reading of said article a bit more quickly than usual. I mean, I seriously doubted that the two love birds really wanted a spectator, know what I mean? (BTW, due to Ken’s general lack of endowment, I didn’t bother to offer any contraception. I suspected it probably wasn’t needed.)

Okay, so now we fast forward to the next day. Here is where the crime scene comes into play…

As expected, I needed to once again visit the library. Just one of those other natural urges. This time I think I was planning to read the local school district newsletter so I would be up on any bond issues, or things I might need to know which would affect my child’s learning. I pretty much figured Babs and Ken would be done by now, so I was feeling pretty safe in selecting one of the longer articles to read. Of course, as we all know, the best laid plans of mice and Murvs, yadda yadda…

Upon entering the library, naturally my eyes were drawn to the porcelain beachfront where the two fashion dolls had been making out. Not because I am a closet voyeur or anything, I just wanted to be certain they were finished so that I could in fact indulge in reading the lengthy article without feeling rushed. What I saw this time was less a scene from a skin flick and more a horrific tableau from a slasher movie (or, one of my books even…)

Ken’s rigid body was laid out in the very same spot where Babs had been…ummm…uhhh…”mounting” him. However, like I said, it was his body. The poor plastic eunuch’s head was sitting several inches away, quite obviously separated from the rest of his buff plasticness, and it was staring dully at the ceiling.

Well… Being a curious author of suspense thrillers that usually involve some type of gory murder, I felt compelled to investigate further. Using the rolled up newsletter to carefully push back the shower curtain (I didn’t want to disturb evidence like fingerprints you see) I proceeded to check out the surroundings.

Much to my surprise, perched on the ledge of the tile back splash, was Barbie, resplendent in her sparkly blue- and extremely filled out- bathing suit. Her pretty little face, replete with a tasteful touch of eye shadow and pearlescent pink lipstick was tilted in the direction of the carnage. And, moreover, on those pearly pink lips she was wearing that painted on smug grin.

The investigation is proceeding, and so far Babs isn’t saying a word, but I’ve got one of those feelings… You know, the Rowan Gant Twilight Zone knocking on the back of my skull kind.

And, you know what it’s telling me?

Barbie is a Black Widow. Maybe they should have named her, oh, I don’t know… Miranda?

More to come…

Murv