A Murder Mystery

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efore: an exhausted, desperate suspect trying earnestly to persuadethe law men of his innocence. With only the expressionless formerphysics professor, the now tepid cup of coffee, and the cold,indifferent chalkboard present, Eddie was out of beings to impress withhis dramatics. Defeated, he collapsed into the wooden chair at thetable.Eddie had been enraged many times in the intervening four hours sincemidnight, when he was brought here on suspicion of the murder of NinaCoteni. But it wasn’t fatigue that finally dropped him into the chair.No, it was the strange professor whom the cops had let in, and thecryptic equation the professor had written on the chalkboard:T(t) = A + (O – A)0.9525 tEddie could never be too tired to sass a self-righteous cop who wasfishing for clues during interrogation, trying to provoke, trying tofind answers only Eddie knew for sure. He actually relishedfrustrating the police, grinning devilishly when they groped in thedark for secrets only Eddie knew. But when these pathetic ploysappeared before Professor Skandi and the chalkboard, their impotenceand folly were exposed, and it was more than Eddie could bear.Officers John Tolfafot and Joe Petacob watched the scene from the onewaymirror, amazed that the smart-assed Eddie had finally run out ofthings to say. They had thought it pointless to bring in some eggheadedprofessor who had just happened to retire to this quiet, ruraltown. But here they were, about to hear the professor speak for thefirst time in an hour. For three hours they tried to find holes in
Eddie’s story, but he stood before them like the impassive cinderblockwalls of the interrogation room: defiant, consistent, and impenetrable.“Mr. Tenlivo.” spoke the professor, looking up at the equation ratherthan the man whom he addressed. “You claim that you received a callfrom Ms. Coteni at 11:15 PM. What did she say?”“She said there was a burglar there. She came home and surprised him.”Eddie looked deeply into the cup of coffee, eyes listless and languid.He gazed into the coffee as if it were some deep abyss, an escape fromthe reality he was in. By now, he had told his story so many times, itbecame a mindless reflex.“And she called you, her ex-boyfriend, rather than the police?” Skandiasked.“No. She had called me first. Then she screamed. I heard that. Hemusta jumped out. He musta been in there the whole time. I told youthis.” No fists. No pounding. No bacchius meter.“It seems a strange time to reveal oneself. The moment she has someoneon the phone?”Petacob and Tolfafot shook their heads. “We went down this road withhim already,” grumbled Joe.John scoffed, “Old ground. Circumstantial. Worthless in court.Amateur.”
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Page 5 and 6: “Newton’s Law of Cooling,” he
Page 7: Eddie thought of his ex-girlfriend

A Murder Mystery

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