32. The Secret Service at Work
38. Keeping an Eye on the Docks
40. One Small Favor Before the Wedding
Memorandum
To: ALL MYSTERY BUFFS
From: the author
Mystery buffs know there are only two kinds of people in the world: those who love mysteries and, well, that other kind. A tiny majority, the latter are, and that’s a good thing because they are missing something unique. For only in mysteries can a reader get a charge out of winning or losing.
It works like this. Nothing gives mystery buffs more satisfaction than getting ahead in a story and beating the writer to the punch. They get a special charge out of combining logic, analysis, intuition and insight so that before they turn the last page, they already have the problem solved. Yet — and this is what sets mystery lovers apart — nothing thrills them more than when the mystery defeats them, when they turn the last page and find a surprise waiting, something they’d missed.
In this, the fifth installment of the series, mystery lovers get noless than forty shots at the fun of winning or losing, in a set of wildly different stories. Every mystery in the book is set up for thereader to solve. At the end of each mystery there is a question: Whodid …? or What did …? or It seems the thief made a mistake. How could…? Like that.
There’s great variety. The settings range from city to country,from a bank to a beach, and from France to Australia. You’llencounter detectives, thieves and murderers, a sub-lieutenantsearching for deserters during the Napoleonic Wars, an undercoverKGB agent and a centurion in the Roman Empire.
There’s also variety in the level of challenge. As you turn thepages of Five-minute Mysteries 5 you’ll notice one, two or threesymbols — a gun — at the beginning of each story. The number ofguns suggests how easy or difficult the mystery is, one being easy,two being a little harder, and three, difficult. (Or, perhaps moreaccurately, how easy or difficult each one seems to me.) But don’tlet the ratings stop you from enjoying all the mysteries! One that Irate “difficult” might be an open-and-shut case for you, while youmight be utterly stumped by one I’ve rated “easy.” Try them all.Finally, all the solutions are at the back of the book, so you canprove you’re a winner or, once in a while, get a kick out of losing. Either way, enjoy.
1. Alone on the Beach
Tony Sanchez lowered himself to one knee beside the body, beingvery careful not to touch the footprints in the sand. There were twosets of these, one of them obviously made by the little man in thechair, the dead man. His prints were smooth, like the soles of hisexpensive dress shoes and, consistent with the weight of the man,the indentations in the sand were very shallow. Had there beenmore beach traffic, they might not have been seen at all.
“Good thing it’s off season.” The voice came from behind Tony,echoing his thoughts. “Nobody in the cabins. Snack shack’s closed.Only people on the whole beach last night were the runt here and whoever popped ’im.
”Even if he hadn’t recognized the voice instantly, Tony would haveclued in from the attitude of the speaker. Manny Silver, Tony’s temporarypartner on the Biloxi homicide squad, had several reprimands in his personnelfile citing his disrespect for victims of crime and their survivors. Asfar as Tony was concerned, in the two months they had worked together,there had been no evidence of moderation in Silver’s style.
Tony got to his feet slowly and turned right around so he couldlook his partner full in the face.
“I know this man,” he said.
“You know the … the vic?”
Manny was genuinely surprised. Biloxi’sterritory was not a large one but this didn’t happen often for, as inmost tourist areas, a large percentage of the population was transient.
“A friend of yours?” Manny was backpedaling. Tony was not onlyhis senior and two grades up in rank, he had a reputation as a completelyno-nonsense cop.
“He lives in my building and no, he’s not a friend but I know him. Everybody in the building knows him — knew him. He wasdifferent. Not odd really but, well, unusual. Hard to miss.
”Manny sensed an opportunity for a fresh start. “Yea, that’s for sure!” He moved around to the other side of the large wooden beachchair that seemed so far out of proportion to the man it held. “I mean, how many people do you know that walk on the beach witha fancy cane? And Oxfords? But then come to think of it, if youwear a vest and a whaddayacallit — cravat? — and a suit, you’re no tjust another dude, you’re … you’re … well, let’s face it, Tony, you gotta be just a bit strange!”
Tony didn’t respond but instead angled himself farther from thevictim, keeping to the same side of the chair. From the new position he had a clearer front view of the dead man. Were it not for the bullethole in his chest — and the clothes — the little man might havepassed for just another tourist walking the beach who sat down fora rest and fell asleep. But there were too many factors slicing throughthat impression, the most striking of which was the blood and thewood splinters on the sand behind the chair. It struck Tony as morethan a bit ironic, almost — he hated to think it: appropriate — that this meticulously dressed man would be shot by someone using acarefully chosen bullet that barely disturbed his appearance on entering the chest, but blew a mighty exit hole on the way out, takingchunks of the chair back with it.He finally spoke. “We called him Mr. Micawber, the people in ourbuilding did. Partly it was the little tummy sticking out and himbeing so short. See how the footprints come up to the chair andwhen he sits his feet
