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I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Clown- I

Me: Grandson, Ron, you have made me proud today. You, too, have graduated from the academy like I did back in 50’s and are now an police officer. I have been telling you about my successful investigations but I suppose it is time to tell you about Mr. Clown.

Ron: Pops, I guess you meant Mr. and Mrs. Clown.

Me: Yes…

I was a member of the team that was inspecting the murder case of a 40 year old widow-Sarah who was burnt alive in her mansion. On the outset it appeared to be a case of suicide considering her physiological history mentioned in her medical reports. There was no evidence to pin down what exactly transpired her death,therefore,we decided to call the house maids for interrogation. Heat from top of the department had already made a dent on our collective confidence for solving murder mysteries; there were talks about disassembling our team. Our frustration grew worse when forensic reports failed to give a conclusive verdict and pointed in all possible directions. There was no motive either as Sarah had nothing; the mansion belonged to a trust her father had founded. I was not satisfied with interrogation rounds and took it upon myself to talk to all the suspects unofficially.

All house maids had lost their employment overnight. A proposal of few extra bucks and beers enticed them to reveal some important information. One of them said the Sarah’s death was supernatural as she had buried all her dead family members in mansion’s backyard, while all other maids pointed in the direction of a Clown. I wanted to leave no stone unturned ,hence, I decided to check the burial place for clues. One maid accompanied me to the backyard where he showed me many open graves only to support his claims. He said that in past few days Sarah had gone mad; she had asked everyone to dig graves of her. She kept saying that she is going to die and that she wanted to be buried beside her twin sister. She had also ordered to dig up the grave of her mother so that Sarah can occupy the space between her sister and mother. I asked him about the missing bodies but he was not sure about what happened to them. All this pointed in the direction of craziness but did not feel convincing enough. So, I decided to hang my investigator hat for the night and went back to my hotel.

My colleagues were drinking and abruptly started laughing on my mention of the supernatural theory. To be fair to them ,it was truly hilarious. I ,also,told my colleagues that our suspects pointed in the direction of a love-affair-gone-wrong between Sarah and a Clown. Everyone asked me to give it a rest and sleep. Next morning, this theory rang as a siren in the head of a colleague and he came running to my room and, hurriedly, opened the document briefcase . He then started to read a few lines out loud: “She was last seen in public with a man dressed as a Clown” said the driver who drove her car the night she got murdered. This gave us enough vigour to revive our lost hope; hope in ourselves and in the case.

We ditched our plan to board a train back home and called for a taxi. It took us to the all famous ‘Miracle’ circus. Luckily, the very first Clown we met at the entrance gate admitted to have a relationship with Sarah. We followed him to his camber cum practise room. I found it very strange that the guy had exactly four expensive chairs, one for each one of us but no bed. I stood in one corner just to see if he reacted to that; there was something wrong with that interior decoration. He asked us if we needed anything to drink while he went on to wipe out the make-up from his face. His generous hospitality and nonchalant personality kept bugging me, I felt as if he was expecting for us.

I started with a direct question; I asked him if he had killed Sarah. He was nonplussed and his answer made us jump our seats.

He said: Yes, I have killed her, not in the way you guys think but I guess I am responsible for her suicide. With this socking disclosure the clown had thrown the ball in our court while he continued with his hospitality.


Ron: Grandpa, it’s getting too cold in here. Let me make some tea.

Me: Ah, tea ,yes do that….

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