A Mystery -- the Church -- and *Murder*

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Now -- me?  I’ve had some pretty tough cases in my time.   But few have reached the complexity of the assassination/heist documented by my trusty drinking-buddy Dr Justice, here:

Paschal scandal!

Dr J isn’t really as dumb as he looks, but he does seem to have missed the key point here.  Why photoshop-off the picture of the wristwatch?  Obviously so that those investigating the assassination, having access only to the photoshopped version of the fatal session in the locked room, would not realize that the patriarch had been wearing a wristwatch before his demise -- and which, afterwards, was not found on the corpse.  So that the assumption would be that the motive was personal, or for religious rivalry, or perhaps just some atheist that hated the Church.  No-one would ever guess that the crime was committed to make away with the hidden contents of the watch. 

Pretty neat, in theory:  but the criminal’s failure to shop-off the tabletop reflection of the stolen item  provided the key to the whole case.

Murphy’s Dream

Once Murphy dreamt  the strangest dream.

A stranger came up to him in a bar, and said:  “You will have three daughters.”

And Murphy replied:  “That is beautiful to hear;  but how could that be?  I am not married to any wedded wife.   Nor can that ever come about;  for I am a detective, and in no wise permitted to marry.”  And Murphy went sorrowing away.

Yet the next day -- There there were!  His daughters three:  Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience.  And Murphy loved his daughters, with his whole heart.  

Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience were their names;  and they were

   => as lovely as the day is long;

    => as high as the moon in the sky;

     => as deep as the fish in the sea.

Life with them was not always easy; being a parent seldom is, and he had little enough of his own that he might share.  But he loved them, and served them, till he grew old in their service, and ancient of days.  His hair grew very white, and his mind grew very tired.

Then when his time came to depart this life, his daughters laid him tenderly in his shroud, and wrapped him with their gentle hands.

Murphy told this dream to his brother, Joey;  and Joey did not know what that dream might mean.   But he did know one thing:  “That is a very good dream, Murphy,”  Joey said.

And so they gave thanks for that nice strange dream.

They give thanks for many, many things.