[it was another lonely Valentine’s Day in Brainopolis; all you have waiting at home is some left over Chinese take out and an expired beer. “Nothing ever happens in this boring town,” you think to yourself. Just as you finish pondering the meaning of life the dispatcher comes on the radio. “All available units to a One-eight-seven at 11011 Puzzle Rd.”
As you pull up to the address there are already five or six other units there with their lights flashing. You notice the house as the home of the prominent philanthropist Dr. Joe Furikan. He was famous in Brainopolis for donating money to causes if they could solve his riddles. The outer perimeter of the house showed nothing out of the ordinary. But, the foot traffic from all the police trying to block eager reporters from disturbing the crime scene was evident from the dirt scattered all over the entry way to the house.
There was a lot of commotion and even more photo flashes as you enter the study to find the corpse of Dr. Furikan slumped over his desk with what appeared to be a bullet hole through his abdomen. As you pan the room you see many familiar faces, co workers, csi, and even Police Chief Den graced the scene with his presence. Such a high profile case demanded a lot of attention. The room was in complete disarray; paper dirt covered the floor and strewn about were various office supplies, an analog clock, and a desk lamp. Through the shuffling feet and papers you spot something glimmering in the corner of the room. It was a bullet casing for a 9mm round and cold to the touch. Could it have been from the murder? You show your finding to the police chief, “Sir, I recovered some evidence that may have come from the killer’s gun.”
“Good work detective. I hope we catch the s.o.b. that did this! I also found the doctor’s black book. Have a look and tell me what you can make of it. I want all these people brought in for questioning!” You browse through the pocket book and everything is blank except for the “first” page (the previous pages had been torn out).
Yoruichi, S. 7/3 9am
Rookie, J. 7/3 11am
Templeton, P. 7/4 3pm
Girl, C.S. 7/6 11 am
Nova, B. 7/7 11am
Gray, V.N. 7/12 9am[/codebox]
“We think one of these people killed the doctor,” the Chief continued. “They were probably unable to solve his riddle for the money and murdered him in a frustrated rage. We also think the murder occurred at 10:33.”
“How do you know so precisely Sir?” you interject.
"I was the first on the scene and found the clock on the ground. It seems to have stopped at that time,” he replied. You can’t believe you had missed something so you quickly look at the damaged clock on the ground. The glass face had shattered bits of glass where it fell and it definitely read 10:33 as the chief had said. “The coroner is going to transport the body to the morgue for a full autopsy.” Just then something starts to stir up the police guarding the entrance to the house. A woman was arguing and shoving her way through. “Jason! Jason!” the woman yelled. She had gotten past the guards and was headed towards us. “You promised me a romantic night alone away from all the crime and the…dead bodies.”
"I know honey but I can’t neglect my civil duties when such an important case arises. I have to assure the people that the police are still doing everything they can even though the department is facing major cutbacks.” The chief tried to comfort the woman, whom you now recognize as his wife from the pictures he kept in his office. “Go wait in the car. I don't want you seeing anymore of this gruesome scene.” He gave her one last hug and she walked back out the door to the line of cars outside.
“One, two, three, lift!” the coroner and a few of his assistants moved the body to a gurney revealing a table calendar that had been covered by the body. It was smeared with blood .
They started to push the doctor out when you notice a strange bulge in the suit of the deceased doctor. “Hold on!” you shout to the coroner. Upon inspection of the suit you find the previous pages of the calendar and a torn check for $20,000,000 signed and dated for today but it was not addressed to anyone.
You cannot help but have a sneaking suspicion that that great riddler left a dying message that pointed out his killer. But, who could it be possibly why? Can you sift through the clues before the trail runs cold?
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[it was another lonely Valentine’s Day in Brainopolis; all you have waiting at home is some left over Chinese take out and an expired beer. “Nothing ever happens in this boring town,” you think to yourself. Just as you finish pondering the meaning of life the dispatcher comes on the radio. “All available units to a One-eight-seven at 11011 Puzzle Rd.”
As you pull up to the address there are already five or six other units there with their lights flashing. You notice the house as the home of the prominent philanthropist Dr. Joe Furikan. He was famous in Brainopolis for donating money to causes if they could solve his riddles. The outer perimeter of the house showed nothing out of the ordinary. But, the foot traffic from all the police trying to block eager reporters from disturbing the crime scene was evident from the dirt scattered all over the entry way to the house.
There was a lot of commotion and even more photo flashes as you enter the study to find the corpse of Dr. Furikan slumped over his desk with what appeared to be a bullet hole through his abdomen. As you pan the room you see many familiar faces, co workers, csi, and even Police Chief Den graced the scene with his presence. Such a high profile case demanded a lot of attention. The room was in complete disarray; paper dirt covered the floor and strewn about were various office supplies, an analog clock, and a desk lamp. Through the shuffling feet and papers you spot something glimmering in the corner of the room. It was a bullet casing for a 9mm round and cold to the touch. Could it have been from the murder? You show your finding to the police chief, “Sir, I recovered some evidence that may have come from the killer’s gun.”
“Good work detective. I hope we catch the s.o.b. that did this! I also found the doctor’s black book. Have a look and tell me what you can make of it. I want all these people brought in for questioning!” You browse through the pocket book and everything is blank except for the “first” page (the previous pages had been torn out).
“We think one of these people killed the doctor,” the Chief continued. “They were probably unable to solve his riddle for the money and murdered him in a frustrated rage. We also think the murder occurred at 10:33.”
“How do you know so precisely Sir?” you interject.
"I was the first on the scene and found the clock on the ground. It seems to have stopped at that time,” he replied. You can’t believe you had missed something so you quickly look at the damaged clock on the ground. The glass face had shattered bits of glass where it fell and it definitely read 10:33 as the chief had said. “The coroner is going to transport the body to the morgue for a full autopsy.” Just then something starts to stir up the police guarding the entrance to the house. A woman was arguing and shoving her way through. “Jason! Jason!” the woman yelled. She had gotten past the guards and was headed towards us. “You promised me a romantic night alone away from all the crime and the…dead bodies.”
"I know honey but I can’t neglect my civil duties when such an important case arises. I have to assure the people that the police are still doing everything they can even though the department is facing major cutbacks.” The chief tried to comfort the woman, whom you now recognize as his wife from the pictures he kept in his office. “Go wait in the car. I don't want you seeing anymore of this gruesome scene.” He gave her one last hug and she walked back out the door to the line of cars outside.
“One, two, three, lift!” the coroner and a few of his assistants moved the body to a gurney revealing a table calendar that had been covered by the body. It was smeared with blood .
They started to push the doctor out when you notice a strange bulge in the suit of the deceased doctor. “Hold on!” you shout to the coroner. Upon inspection of the suit you find the previous pages of the calendar and a torn check for $20,000,000 signed and dated for today but it was not addressed to anyone.
You cannot help but have a sneaking suspicion that that great riddler left a dying message that pointed out his killer. But, who could it be possibly why? Can you sift through the clues before the trail runs cold?
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