Chapter 2 - The Mysterious Mishap

"Facts which at first seem improbable will, even on scant explanation, drop the cloak which has hidden them and stand forth in naked and simple beauty." – Galileo Galilei

There was more, but Jenny wanted to save some for later. She ushered Amberson out of her apartment with the assurance that she would give his problem some thought and get back to him soon. Almost immediately after he left, Jenny swung her coat out of the hallway closet and started for her boots. Ellen followed suit, and they took the stairs down to the lobby of the building. The elevator usually smelled like piss.

Ellen bobbed along with less vigour, but still with barely restrained enthusiasm, this time tempered only by the sure knowledge that Jenny was intrigued by the case. Jenny said nothing for two full blocks as they strolled down the avenue, her long, dark scarf trailing behind them like a shadow. Finally, she spoke.

"There's utility poles on this side of the street."

Ellen glanced around, affirming her friend's statement. She nodded in agreement.

"Hm," Jenny contemplated. "Anyway, I guess I'll do you a favour and check into this strange locked room mystery, Ellen. I suppose the first thing we should consider is exactly how and why Mr. Boyd was murdered, if that is in fact the case, and by whom."

Ellen was overjoyed that they were on the trail of yet another crime, two best friends skirting danger once again. She swung her arms ever further out in front of her and almost skipped right past Jenny's shorter strides before bringing herself to a sudden stop. "Shouldn't we find out where the bunker is before we determine the mystery, Jenny? After all, how are we going to solve this case without any clues."

Jenny looked up at her friend, her hands shoved deep into her pockets to protect them from the November chill. "The reason Amberson and the other investigators at Boyd and co. were unable to go further with this case is because they've left themselves only one avenue of exploration. They've forgotten the very values that their company is based upon. Extraordinary events sometimes call for extraordinary measures, or, one must change weirdness from a weakness to a personal advantage. In this case, the lack of a crime scene allows us to focus on the crime without the distraction of actual physical clues."

Jenny very nearly continued on her way, both in her theories and in their wanderings, but found herself distracted by a notice on the pole to her right. It was the only poster left intact, the rest having been torn from their staples ages ago.

BY NOTICE OF THE CITY COUNCIL. NO POSTING OF UNAUTHORIZED LEAFLETS, POSTERS OR OTHER OBTRUSIVE PARAPHENALIA IS ALLOWED IN PUBLIC SPACES. PERPETRATORS WILL BE PUNISHED TO THE FULL EXTENT OF THE LAW.

Jenny glanced past the pole to see a garish set of golden arches standing out from the rundown turn-of-the-century homes that made up her neighbourhood. She felt a compelling need to throw a rock or two, but the street had been swept almost completely clean of debris. She scratched at the remnants of a sticker promoting Buy Nothing Day instead.

One year, in Montreal, a man found his parked car had been smashed in from a replacement elevator car that had dropped from above. There was a note on his shattered windshield from the construction crew apologizing for the inconvenience. As a wise man once said, ghettoes are the same all over the world. The presence of tall residential buildings butting right up against the sidewalks of a city are such an obvious sight that the people who walk along those narrow pathways seldom give the inherent dangers of such edifices any thought at all. if one were to actually stop and consider just how many stupid, irresponsible people live in a tiny apartment with a balcony cum makeshift storage unit overlooking the teeming masses, they would no doubt consider walking in the middle of the street to be a healthy alternative. The people from rural areas who look upon these tenements aren't yokels, but rather still hold some remnant of a perfectly valid fear that most city dwellers shed ages ago. It isn't at all surprising that people are hurt or killed at random from falling objects, but that it doesn't happen more often.

Ellen hit so hard that Jenny was sure that she felt a rib or two pop. Despite the pain, she had been in the position of damsel in distress to her buddy's knight in shining armour enough times to know to roll with the impact and keep on rolling. Jenny heard the sound of something heavy and wet hit the pavement, but it didn't register until after she herself hit the ground. Without straightening her skirt, Ellen pushed off of her friend and jutted her face forward, all senses tensed and waiting for more falling death. She barely whispered to Jenny, asking whether she was alright or not, before sprinting towards the entranceway of the apartment building in front of them. Jenny had to take a bit longer to prepare herself, but forced a quick recovery. Her ribs weren't broken after all, though she was sure she would have a nasty bruise in the morning. She took only a fleeting glance at the potted plant that had nearly caved her head in before following her friend inside.