The Masterpiece Murders #3

Sorry I've been away for so long kids, but I'm back, let's get back to buisness, shall we?

When I pulled up to the place, the feeling I got in my stomach was anything but good, it wasn’t normal for me to be so squeamish before walking into a crime scene but something felt off. Instead of heading straight into the house I went across the street to Robinson’s, there were a few questions that were burning the back of my mind, like how an attacker could have so easily gotten in and made it look like a poisoning, paint her, and get out without anyone noticing and calling the police. The door gave a jingle far too chipper for the interior of the store. It had been quite a while since I’d been in here. A lot of the shelves had been emptied by a shop keep who had long since stopped ordering supply because of his lack of demand for anything but cheap smokes, cheap alcohol and do-it-yourself extermination kits. Then it clicked in my head. How do you make someone poison themselves easily? Make them not realize it. I walked over to the counter, the grizzled, beat down man that stood before me was a shadow of the man I used to know. Larry Robinson, he used to have a wife and kids, then she took everything he had and split, leaving him for dead in a world that cares more for nickels than shmucks like him. “Hey Lou, it’s been a while,” He said, a smile almost crossed his lips but god knows he didn't even want to be happy anymore. His voice was as roughed up as his appearance. “The good stuff’s in the back, you want me to get you a bottle?” I gave a brief shake of my head as I held up a hand. “No Larry, I'm here to talk to you.” A look of confusion spread across his face as he scratched his hand, looking almost guilty of something. “Don't worry; I'm just here to ask your opinion is all.” A look of relief washed out the confusion from before. “Don’t scare me like that Lou; I’m much too old for all that excitement.” Larry said, the smile finally forming on his unshaven face. “You and me both.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at my old friend’s guilty conscience but what he does in his free time is his business. “I have a case where a girl was poisoned by strychnine, got anything that looks harmless with a lot of kick?” Larry’s brow furrowed “You know, I think I got just the thing.” He reached down below the counter and pulled out a box of rodent poison, the skull and crossbones on it was almost comical given the circumstance. He popped it open quickly and pulled out a small pill. “Apparently you're supposed to crush it up and throw it into mice holes or cover it in peanut butter and leave it for those little buggers. It’s got enough kick to kill a team of horses on the spot.” The pill was white, hardly distinguishable from most of the other pills I saw on the shelves, aspirin, sleeping pills, all little white pills. Upon closer inspection I noticed that the pills had a small “Q” on their surface. Now I knew what I was looking for. “Thanks for the help Larry, I'll see you around.” I stepped out the door, lighting a cigarette with a quick flick of my thumb. The feeling was gone now, it was about time I got to business.