The Case of the Unnamed
Ashes
The clock flashed 6:01 a.m. as my alarm shook me from my sleep. My eyes still shut, I sat up and pulled myself out of bed, stumbling blindly toward the television. I swung my arm in hopes of finding the "Power" button. Finally, I found it and turned on Channel Two News.
"We've just gotten word that there's been a murder out by the docks," the reporter was saying. "Apparently, police have no way of identifying the body. We'll take you to live coverage with Kathy Silverson. Kathy?"
"Thanks, John," a woman said. "I'm standing at the murder scene, and&emdash;" She continued talking as I gazed, fascinated, into the TV screen.
According to the reporter, the victim had been burned to death, and all that remained at the scene were his or her ashes. I decided to do some investigating.
Hastily, I zipped through the shower, threw on my police uniform, and headed for the police station. I was always excited to go to work, because I loved my job as a detective/police officer. When I got there, my partner hissed, "You're late!" and glared at me, waiting for my excuse.
"I was watching that news report about the murder that happened last night," I stuttered. "I would like to investigate it."
"Unfortunately, you'll have to work on it alone, because I already have a case," she replied. "But you can if you want."
"Excellent!" I cried. "I'll start gathering clues as to who was murdered!"
I drove to the scene of the crime and noticed that it was right by the beach.
As I pondered where to start, a frazzled woman hustled toward me, calling, "Sir! Sir!"
I waved. "I witnessed the murder and I'm really worried because the murderer ran off and I don't know where he is now," she babbled, "but I saw the murder so&emdash;"
"You saw the murder?" I cut her off. "Do you have any idea who was killed?"
"No, I didn't see the victim's face," she replied.
I sighed. "I'll tell you what," I began. "How about you give me your phone number and we can set up an interview." I didn't have time to talk to her; she couldn't tell me anything.
"Okay!" she replied before scribbling a phone number on a scrap of paper, thrusting it into my hand, and hurrying off. I put the paper in my pocket.
I spotted another police officer and approached him. "Have you found anything interesting?" I asked.
"Actually," he replied, reaching into his bag, "I did find these goggles near the scene of crime, but I don't think they have anything to do with it. We still don't know who the victim was, though!"
I nodded and started searching for a clue. I took a step and instantly heard a loud "CRUNCH!" beneath my foot. When I checked to see what I had stepped on, I discovered a small piece of coral broken into pieces. I picked it up and took it with me, just in case it could somehow help in figuring out who was murdered.
For two hours, I continued searching for clues but found nothing. Finally, I decided to give up and go back to work.
The day snailed on, but the whole time I was thinking about the murder. I thought about the goggles and piece of coral that were at the scene, but they didn't seem to have any significance. Just as I was preparing to go home, my phone rang.
"Hello?" I answered.
"The answer lies in the sea," a scratchy voice whispered.
"What?"
"The answer lies in the sea," it repeated.
"Who is this?"
Suddenly I heard a clunk as the mysterious caller hung up on me. I shook my head. This mystery was getting weirder by the second.
The next day, as I was getting ready to go to work, the murder was all over the news. According to reporters, police had absolutely no way of finding out who the victim was.
"Ébecause there are reportedly no witnesses of this horrific crime!" the newscaster stated.
All of a sudden, the face of the woman I had run into the day before popped into my head. I could practically hear her: "Ébut I saw the murderÉ"
Wait! The reporter had just said there were no witnesses! Was it possible that this woman was making it up? I closed my eyes and thought, Why can't I just find a clue?
Then I remembered my strange phone conversation from the day before. "The answer lies in the sea," the voice had said. But what could it mean?
I decided if I couldn't find any more clues after today, I would go diving at the beach by the murder scene and see if I found any clues in the water. Maybe the victim's I.D. blew into the ocean? I thought hopefully.
I was so caught up in the mystery that I forgot the next day was Saturday, my day off. When I arrived at the station at 7:30, my partner just stared at me blankly; usually I took advantage of my day off.
"It's Saturday," she said. "What are you doing here?"
I blushed and slipped back outside. Hopping into my car, I recalled where the murder had taken place and headed straight for the crime scene. The moment I got there I remembered how hopelessly my search was going. Again, I searched all day for some kind of clue and found nothing.
Fine, I thought. I guess I'll have to expand my search to the sea. I knew it was a long shot, but I was getting frustrated; I was willing to search anywhere for a clue.
I hurried home to retrieve my cheap goggles and wetsuit then returned to the beach near the murder scene. Inhaling, I plunged into the icy water and went to the bottom to see what might be hidden in the sand.
Nothing. Preparing to go up for air, I suddenly paused&emdash;there was something, a strap, maybe, protruding from the still sand. I swam over and uncovered the object then swam it to the top.
It was a backpack! I was pretty sure it didn't belong to the victim, because it had been almost completely buried at the bottom, but I unzipped it anyway.
The papers were wet but still readable. I checked the date on every paper, and none of them had been completed after January 26, 2003. Today was April 28, so I was positive that the victim had not been carrying this backpack at the time of the murder. Of course, I was still interested, so I continued sifting through the papers in the dripping backpack and pulled out a folder labeled "Science: Mr. Brugge". Opening the folder, I discovered an old lab write-up titled "Burn, Baby, Burn!" and started reading it.
"I can conclude from this lab," I read aloud, "that you can identify many elements by the color produced when they burn. For example, sodium burns bright orange." I began to get bored with my find, so I placed everything back in the backpack, flung it over my shoulder, and headed for my car.
I realized when I got home that tonight was laundry night. As I picked up my dirty clothes from the previous week, a crumpled scrap of paper fell out of one of the pockets. When I opened it, I remembered that it was the phone number of the woman who had approached me a couple of days earlier. Aware that this woman was my last resort, I picked up the phone and dialed her number.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Hello, this is Officer James Semloh. I'm calling because you I talked to you a couple of days ago, and you said that you witnessed the crime that occurred Wednesday night. We agreed to set up an interview?"
"Oh, hello," she replied. "Yes, I remember you. My name is Sheryl Nostaw."
"I would like to ask you a few questions," I stated as I wrote down her name. "Would you mind telling me exactly what you witnessed Wednesday night?"
"Well," she began, "I was on my way home from my late shift at the nearby Dairy Queen around 1:00 a.m., and I heard bloodcurdling screams that lasted for over 15 minutes! Meanwhile, I was running up and down all the surrounding alleys&emdash;which probably wasn't the smartest thing to do&emdash;looking for whoever was screaming, and I saw a bright orange flame at least 10 feet tall out by the beach! Before I knew it, the murderer, masked in black, ran right by me with some kind of torch! After that, I was terrified to tell anyone what I saw, for fear that the murderer would torch me too! That's why I only told you."
"What color did you say the flame was?" I asked.
"It was an unnaturally bright orange-red color," she repeated. "Why?"
"The answer lies in the sea," I muttered to myself. "Of course! I think I have the answer! Thank you, Ms. Nostaw."
"I'm glad I could help," Sheryl said. "Do you have any more questions?"
"Just one more," I began. "Do you have any customers at Dairy Queen who like to go diving at the beach?"
"We do have one; I think his name is Ronald Smith. Come to think of it, he stopped by the restaurant just before my shift ended. He was wearing a wetsuit and carrying a flashlight and goggles, and he ordered a burger. He said he was going to study the nighttime wildlife in the water near Dairy Queen, and he would try to use the burger as bait to attract fish and stingrays. I told him I didn't think fish would eat hamburgers, and he agreed but said he was just doing an experiment. You know, he stops by Dairy Queen a lot. He has even shown me some of his collection of shells and coral. He has quite a collection&emdash;"
"Thank you!" I interjected. "I think you have just helped me solve the mystery of the unnamed ashes."
"I'm very glad I could help!" she said. "But I have to go now. Let me know how everything works out. Bye!"
"Goodbye," I answered, then hung up.
The moment I arrived at work, I shouted, "I HAVE SOLVED THE MYSTERY!"
After receiving some annoyed looks, I rushed to my partner's desk. "I solved the mystery!" I repeated.
"That's great," she replied. "Who was the victim?"
"His name was Ronald Smith," I explained. "He was a marine biologist interested in studying the local wildlife. I did some research and discovered that his favorite place for diving was a particular spot on the beach, just near where the murder occurred. The night of the murder, he stopped by Dairy Queen to pick up a burger just before heading to the water. He used the burger as bait for the fish. He spent some time studying the animals he found by the beach then started on his way home; he only lived a couple of blocks from the beach. However, on the way home, someone&emdash;we don't know who yet&emdash;apparently grabbed Smith from behind, tied him up and restrained him as the murderer burned Smith alive, starting with his longish hair, which was soaked with seawater. Because the sodium from the saltwater was being burned out of his hair and off of his skin, a bright orange-red flame appeared, and it showed up brightly in the darkness; a witness named Sheryl Nostaw, who works at Dairy Queen, said that she saw a bright reddish-orange- colored flame. It's all thanks to an 8th grade student in Mr. Brugge's science class and a mysterious stranger who gave me a clue over the phone that I was able to solve this mystery," I finished.
"That's great!" she congratulated me. "But I already knew that you solved the mystery. Channel Two News called this morning. Apparently, they found out from some woman named Sheryl that you identified the victim, and they want to interview you to be on tomorrow morning's news! What do you say?"
"I would love to!" I replied.
"Great." She handed me a phone number on a piece of paper. "Call this number."
My obnoxious alarm clock sounded once more, at 6:01 a.m., as usual. I dragged myself out of bed, stumbled to the TV, and turned on Channel Two News.
Instead of seeing the usual reporter's face on the screen, as I was used to, I saw my own face.
"Good morning, New Mexico! Our top news this morning: the mystery of the unnamed ashes has been solved, thanks to police detective, James Semloh. Mr. Semloh, would you care to say a few words this morning?"
"Yes, I would," I answered on TV. "Pay attention in your science class! Science holds the key to every mystery."