The Case of Dead Stan

The Case of Dead Stan
By Sara Spring


My name is Charlie McPhearson and I’m eight years old. I was assigned to this case a few hours ago when Chaz decided to see his girlfriend two blocks away. At first I thought the Olsen’s twins were capable of doing this but the MO was completely off as they liked to pull the legs off of spiders in their spare time, but the victim’s head was immersed in water- the cause of death was apparently drowning.
Quickly, I scanned the area for clues only to find an empty box of Parliaments and an empty bottle of Schnapps. Who drank Schnapps? I wondered. My first thought was of old Mrs. Skeener who liked to bake me sugar cookies with bright orange frosting, she was always drinking out of small bottles and though I sure liked those sugar cookies I couldn’t help but think that perhaps she could be my first suspect in the case. As I felt my stomach start to growl I started over to her place.

As I rang the doorbell I peered inside through the screen door. “Mrs. Skeener!” I called out and leaned forward listening for her to make any sound in the room. I could hear her from the kitchen telling me to come in and join her. Eagerly throwing open the screen door, the smell of cookies baking made my mouth water. I sat down at the kitchen table I watched as she loaded freshly made up cookies onto a plate for me.

What if she was involved and Olsen twins were bribing her for more treats? “Are you going to give any of these cookies to the Olsen twins?” They still may have done the murder and I wanted to make sure that if they were the culprits that they didn’t get any more cookies.
“Well, if they want some they can stop by and ask.”
I pointedly asked her if she smoked Parliaments.
She displayed horror and replied very adamantly, “Oh heavens no, why do you ask Charlie?”
“I was down by the lake and I found some so I wanted to return them to who they belonged to incase they lost them accidentally. Do you know anyone that does?”
“Mr. Blake does but I don’t think he could have been down near the water.”
“Why’s that?” I asked with my mouth full with sweet orange frosting.
“Well, he is in a wheelchair.”
“Why, what happened to him?”
“I believe there was an accident at the old mill when we were all younger. Broke his back and couldn’t walk again.” She sighed as if she was back in those days.
“What was he like then? Were you in love in with him?” Charlie sensed her nostalgia.
Her watery eyes focused on him and she smiled.

Licking his sticky fingers Charlie left her living room of doilies to enter into the warm sunny weather and he started to walk the few blocks to Mr. Blake’s house. Along the way was a small mart and Charlie put his crumpled few dollars onto the counter ordering a pack of Parliaments. Mr. Singh peered at him curiously, “What are you going to do with those?”
“Mr. Blake needs some more smokes.”
Satisfied with the answer he slapped the new box on the counter and Charlie walked quickly the last few blocks to see old Mr. Blake sitting on the front porch.
“What are you doing here, kid?”
“I thought I would stop by with some of these.” I held them out to him as if it were a peace offering. His response was a gruff grunt and a fast thin hand snatching them away from me.  Promptly he lit two cigarettes and handing one to me. I mimicked his puff and let out the smoke with a large cough. The elderly man laughed, “You didn’t have to take it, kid.”
Seeing as the old man was in a wheel chair there was no way he could have murdered the poor opossum of whom I decided to call Stan,  I figured I’d to go back to the waters edge to see if there were any other clues.
As I stared at the dead animal and noticed the decay of the fur, wondering when the death had occurred, I imagined someone drowning poor Stan out of anger only to sit near him and smoke a cigarette and drink another bottle of Schnapps. Or maybe they were already drunk and smoked a cigarette after killing him? Why would someone kill an opossum? These questions formulated entire scenarios but I just could not see the face of the killer.
Bicycles came up behind me and I heard the familiar voice of an Olsen twins shout out, “McPhearson, what are you doing?”
I didn’t say anything as they were older and not be trusted.
“McPhearson.” They taunted me. I wish Chaz were there.
“McPhearson is that a dead animal that you are staring at?” I could feel myself turn red and they both looked at each other with a grin. I could see this was about to get out of control.
“McPhearson is a freak!” They laughed.
I started to head home. There was a television show on that I wanted to watch, it was probably close to being on.

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