“We go solve Farley Granger’s murder.” Beside me Regi says “Here’s your place.” We stop and she turns off the engine. “I have one question.”
“You want to know how he was killed.” “No. Not that.” “You wonder how we trick the real killer into revealing himself.” “Not that either.”
“You wonder how I’ll solve this case while I’m not a cop?” “Not really.” I’m stumped. I have one final place to go. “What is your question?”
Regi says “How in heaven’s name are you able to tweet all the time without walking into walls or bumping into things?” “Multitasking.”
“No seriously. How do you do it? Arkaby?” “One minute.” I finish the previous tweet before I respond. “I’ve learned to divide my attention.”
“You can have it. Tweeting is not my cup of tea.” “It’s an acquired taste.” I’m home at last! As we enter the house I sense something wrong.
We pause at the dark entrance. I haven’t been home for a while. Did I leave the gas on? Regi asks “Why don’t you just turn on the light?”
There’s definitely someone in the house! Pushing Regi to the side, I tap my phone to activate my gun app, crouch down low and take aim.
Regi says “What the hell?” as a cell phone in the darkness chimes and deep voice cries “What the hell?” I switch on my phone flashlight.
Shadowed but big as life, Willum Granger’s doppelgänger stands in my darkened living room and holds up his phone to show the message “BANG!”
The doppelgänger says “You SHOT at me? What the hell are you doing?” I say “Are you for real? You’re trespassing!” Regi says “Uncle…Stuart?”
Stuart? Stuart Granger? What was Willum Granger’s missing identical triplet doing in my living room? Regi says “You’re supposed to be dead.”
He gazes at Regi. Does his mien soften? “The report of my death was an exaggeration.” “Exaggeration? You were decapitated!” “I got over it.”
Funny how things work out in self-exoneration crime solving. Finding Stuart Granger was #1 on my “hard to do” list. Looks like we found him.
Regi says “But they found your head!” “I knew if they found my head they would stop looking for the rest of me.” “That doesn’t make sense!”
I say “We need answers right now.” Stuart says “OK.” “I mean it. No more games. No more misdirection.” “Fine.” “I’m not kidding.” “Alright.”
Regi says “You are my father’s triplicate brother?” “Yes.” “You let yourself be thought dead, decapitated?” “Yes.” “You son of a bitch!”
“Regi, I” “Don’t ‘Regi I’ me! What’s the idea of being kept a secret my entire life? Why are you hiding?” I say “Regi, let me handle this.”
I stand toe to toe with the evil triplet. “OK doppelgänger. Time to spill your guts.” Regi says “Arkaby!” “Oh right. Your brother did that.”
I grab the doppelgänger’s lapels and lift him up. He IS real! He says “You’d be a lot more intimidating without the Juicy pink sweatpants.”
“I’ve been to hell and back because of you! I’ve wrestled a tumescent cadaver away from lactose intolerant medical school administrators!”
(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)