If you know me pretty well, you know that pretty much wherever I go, there's a corpse, a crime, or an adventure that involves killers, kidnappings, or kids (or a combination).

I'll give you one guess on what happened.

That's right. Gerard the butler found found Martin Hoswell hanging from the ceiling in his room by a thick piece of rope. His face was wide in shock, as if he was surprised or scared by something or someone. It's scary stuff, detective work, but it helps to have a short term memory loss for trauma.

"M-m-m...Master Hoswell..." Gerard stuttered. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. We quickly ran up when he did probably one of the deepest screams ever. The whole family came soon after, in which everyone gasped or screamed.

"Dad..." Janine said, her eyes teary from the traumatic encounter of her dad, dead.

"Honey..." Caroline muttered in disbelief, probably for the same reason every wife does finding out their husband is dead.

"Hmm..." I thought. I entered the room and took a look around. It was finely furnished with sofas and desks and a large bookshelf of board games. The victim was suspended in the air, maybe a foot and a half off the ground. A thick rope was in a noose around his neck, wrapped around a rectangular prism shaped overhead beam twice (the one he was hanging on), and the end was tightly gripped in his left hand. Let's see, doing some quick calculations...that would be...

"Alright, people of the Hoswell residence." I started. I looked up. About an eight foot ceiling, doing it based on my vision and relative heights of surrounding objects and myself.

"Detective!" Caroline shouted. It was what she thought it was. It didn't look very good at this point. My professional opinion had prevailed in the situation.

"This, is no apparent suicide. This...is murder!" I shouted triumphantly.

When someone I know (and yes, I do know myself pretty well) shouts out that statement, it's the highlight of my day. I'm serious. The most exciting part is about to come after that statement. It's exponentially great.

"Alright people, who wants to see Ace Detective Duke Harison in action?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood. Though, my deductions weren't going to be very happy, the experience is always the best to be enlightened by my deductive reasoning's genius.

"Who wouldn't?" Janine asked. Everyone else agreed promptly. I guess my diversion tactic kind of worked. Take their minds off their dead father for now. They can grief later.

"That's what I'm talking about. But, sadly, I have to say we're standing in a room with a murderer." I said. Everyone started looking at each other, half in disbelief, half in suspicion. The family had just turned against itself. If I didn't do something, shots will fly, accusations would start, and then secrets that didn't want to be revealed would see the light. I looked around again.

"You all are probably wondering, 'How do you know, Duke' or something to that extent, am I right?" I asked. Everyone nodded in agreement. I looked at Martin Hoswell's desk. Some warm soup was in a small bowl on his desk. I threw the tidbit in the back of my mind and pressed on.

"Now, rigor mortis has set in so we can estimate the time of death not too recently. Since we know he was alive at two o'clock, we can estimate the time of death between two and five forty-five or so. Now, since the body isn't room temperature, algor mortis suggests that he was killed closer to two rather than five forty-five." I explained.

"Uhh...sure." the family agreed. I guess they didn't know the technical and medical terms. I continued on anyway.

"Do you guys want me to explain?" I asked, annoyed by the commoners' stupidity.

"If you would." Naomi answered. Her family nodded in agreement.

"Fine, fine. There is algor mortis, livor mortis, and rigor mortis. I'll explain the ones I said earlier. Algor mortis is the change in body temperature after the heart stops pumping and cellular oxidation, which keeps our bodies at a constant 98.6 degrees Farenheit, stops. Under certain conditions, the body's temperature drops to room temperature at about 1.5 degrees Farenheit per hour." I explained.

"So that's how you pinpointed time of death." Jeffery reasoned.

"Right. Now rigor mortis refers to the hardening of the muscle cells that begins shortly after death and causes boardlike stiffness. Under certain conditions, it starts in about twelve hours, lasts about twelve hours, then disappears in about twelve hours. But if strenuous activity was done beforehand, for example, a sport of some sort, the time frame would change." I explained. The family nodded, as if they understood.

"Now, what puzzles me is why the murderer wanted it to look like a suicide..." I muttered to myself. I paced around the room, looking for a clue or a lack of one.

"Uhh...Detective?" Jennifer spoke up.

"Yes?" I asked, looking at her. She turned bright red.

"You...you...never explained...why it wasn't...wasn't...wasn't a suicide..." she stuttered, still red like a ripe tomato.

"Oh, that. Yes. I'll explain. Now, do you see how the body is suspended in midair, probably a foot and a half off the ground? Well, for it to be suicide, he would have to have rigged the beam first, have the rope in hand, loosely pull a loop around his neck, and jump a foot in the air while at the same time pulling the rope so he would choke." I explained. It seemed too highly unlikely to be the truth.

"But, couldn't he just jump off of something?" Janine asked.

"That's what I put into account. Since he is in the middle of the room, for him to jump off the closest object, the rope would have to be considerably longer. Plus, Mr. Hoswell, being six feet or so, for him to jump forward, he'd probably hit his head on an overhead beam, but there are no signs of blunt force trauma to his head. To finish, you wouldn't have been able to pull the rope as it was wrapped twice around the square beam. It's just not possible." I said.

"That sort of makes sense..." Naomi said.

"I'd do better on a full stomach." I said. Then, Caroline gestered to Gerard.

"Gerard, dinner ready?" Caroline asked.

"Almost, Madam Hoswell. Just five minutes. Would you like some appetizers?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you, Gerard. The family will be down promptly." Caroline answered. That's weird. It's been almost three hours and dinner is still not done? Strange. Plus, it's just roast beef.

"Still hungry, Duke?" Ellie asked, interrupting my thought.

"Like I said before, I investigate better on a full stomach." I answered.

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"So, Mr. Hoswell loved macaroni and cheese so much, he made a secret five cheese recipe, sold it to a major company, and is currently making millions?" I asked.

"Yes. It only took him a week to perfect it. He also made variations with other spices, like Hot & Spicy, Lactose Free, Half Fat, you get the picture." Caroline explained.

"I prepared some for his dinner as well as his lunch and his board game studying." Gerard said, serving some soup. Wait a sec. There was soup on Mr. Hoswell's desk when he was murdered. Did the killer give him that and lie about the mac & cheese?

"That's a good story. But I am a detective. And I'm on the case. I'm here to catch a murderer. Now, Hoswell family, I need to hear your alibis." I said. First went Caroline.

"I was gardening in the greenhouse. I was nearly caught in the rain." she answered. Next went Janine.

"I was organizing my stamps in my stamp collection." she answered. Next was Naomi.

"I was asleep on the living room couch." she answered. After her was Jennifer.

"I was...umm...reading...Mr. Detective...sir." she stuttered. Then went Jeffery.

"I was reading as well." he stated. Next was Gramma Hoswell.

"I was knitting a blanket, deary." she smiled. I looked around. Almost everyone had extremely weak alibis. They were all alone with no witnesses of any kind.

"Now, based on the statements you've given me, the only ones who have an alibi for committing the murder was Grandpa Hoswell and myself. Now, we can eliminate my friend Ellie, for she was only introduced to Martin just today, so lack of motive." I said.

"So...I'm in the clear?" Ellie asked. I looked at her and sighed.

"Sorry, but not entirely. Every angle must be considered. When the logical becomes false, only the improbable remain." I explained, "Same for the butler, Gerard." I took another quick look around. This estate was housing a murderer. And it was my job to figure it out.

"Now, after dinner, I'm going to look through the rooms and the crime scene. If anyone here has a Polaroid instant camera with them, I'd like to borrow it." I said, looking at everyone. Then, Jennifer Hoswell spoke up.

"I do. I have an instant camera in my room. I'll give it to you when you look through my room." she said quietly.

"You know, Jennifer, I'm going to have to get you a microphone or something." Janine said.

"If...if you must..." Jennifer managed. She was the center of attention, and she didn't like it one bit. Gerard came in.

"Dinner, is served." Gerard said, serving a platter of roast beef.

"Yum." I said, and began to dig in. I haven't ever had food made by a butler before.

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"Alright you guys, for privacy reasons, I'll inspect each of your rooms with you and Ellie. No one else. Everyone else will wait in the hall in a group to prevent any future killings." I said. Everyone shivered at the last part. It could be worse, to be painfully honest. There could be a killer somewhere in an unkown location to us, ready to strike from the safety of the shadows.

"For my own safety, I won't go alone. Nothing for you to worry about 'cause Ace Detective Duke Harison is on the case." I announced. I had a feeling everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

"Now, before I forget, I have already contacted the police. They'll arrive shortly. We're lucky the killer didn't cut the wire. Hopefully, I'll have this one solved and closed before they get here." I said. I had a nagging feeling about the uncut phone line, as if the killer wanted to be caught to some extent. Everyone stared at me, waiting for my next move. I felt a bit uneasy, but assumed a confident disposition.

Alright, we'll go clockwise. Grandpa and Gramma Hoswell, you're up." I said.

First was Gramma and Grandpa Hoswell's room. I looked around thoroughly. They both let me rummage through nearly everything like they had nothing to hide. They also tried to convince me to listen to one of their stories, but I reminded them I was on a case.

Second was Marta's room. It was well furnished with various furniture. There were many posters and figurines of animals (none stuffed, which she pointed out). There was one in particular that showed she was a vegetarian, and it seemed to be backed up when she passed on the roast beef for dinner.

Next was Jennifer's room. She handed me her Polaroid as I looked around. Nothing too suspicious. Many mystery novels and a book of newspaper clippings of my solved cases.

"I didn't know you were a fan of me." I mentioned casually.

"Well, Mr. Detective, sir...umm...who isn't?" she stuttered. I looked at her as she quickly turned away and turned red. I rummaged through my pocket and pulled out a card.

"Need a P.I.? Just give me a ring." I said, handing her a business card. She smiled taking it as I pulled out another.

"And this special autographed one is for your collection here. What should I make it out to? To my number one fan Jennifer Valarie Hoswell perhaps?" I asked as I signed the card.

"Umm...sure." she said as I wrote the message. I naded it to her as she held the card in her hand.

"I'll cherish it." she said.

"I would too if I were you." I smiled, winking.

Fourth was Gerard's room. There wasn't much in the room except a newspaper that had some stuff cut out. I disregarded it and moved on. He had a window open as we left.

Fifth was Jeffery's room. His room was full of magic memoirbilla as well as a large shelf of books. Most were 'How To' books.

Sixth was Naomi's. She had tons of baseball and softball memoirbilla. From posters to balls to cards to autographs, Naomi's room was like a museum.

Next was Janine's. She had a simpler room than her family's. She tried to get into stamp collecting, but I had to politely refuse. She talked on and on as I poked around, not really listening to a word she said.

Last was the crime scene. I took pictures for the police forensics on the way before letting anyone else in the room. I noted the bowl of soup, an open window, a chess board, and carefully took mental notes on all of them. I took a quick look outside and saw something extraordinary.

"Wow, this side of the house borders the ocean?" I asked myself in awe. The view was so magnificent as the sun began in the west. The colors of reflection of the water glittered like refracting diamonds. I looked on and looked odwn peacefully. Then, I couldn't believe my eyes.

"That's it! I've got it!" I said. But wait, I needed evidence. I looked around, rummaged through some personal items, and found what I needed. The picture that was both proof and motive. I took a quick look at the back and couldn't believe what I saw.

"Ah, so that's how the real game was played." I said, smiling rather deviously. I came out of the crime scene and quickly announced a very important Hoswell proclomation.

"Hoswell family, please, meet me in the greenhouse in five minutes," I said, "I've just solved the case."

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Everyone is the Hoswell residence arrived in the five minutes in the greenhouse, outside the mansion. They were all looking at each other, wondering who the culprit was. I smiled at their confusion, and was ready to reveal the culprit.

"You guys are hilarious. You still don't know who did it?" I asked tauntingly.

"No, detective. That's what you're here for." Janine said.

"Before I reveal anything, let's go over the crime first. Mr. Hoswell was found hanging approximately eight feet off the ground of the room. Now, Mr. Hoswell is easily six feet tall and there's approximately a foot and a half space between his feet and the floor. And, without the prescence of a stool, there is no furniture in a close enough proximity for Mr. Hoswell to commit suicide. Now, the stool was found in the kitchen, which suggests it was never moved or planted there. There was also a bowl of soup on the desk next to the chess board. Now, according to Gerard, he gave Mr. Hoswell mac & cheese when he began his board game studying." I said.

"Which suggests Phillip lied." Ellie said. Everyone turned their heads towards Gerard.

"Next was the open window. Now, it's the middle of pollen season, so why would someone open a window?" I asked.

"I dunno." Jeffery said, most likely speaking for the rest of the crowd.

"Now, Gerard, do you use the elevator at all?" I asked him.

"No, I always take the stairs. It's because—" he said, until I cut him off.

"You're claustrophobic." I finished. Everyone gasped in surprise.

"That's right. Gerard, the butler, is claustrophobic. Now, Mr. Gerard, do you recognize this?" I asked, pulling out the picture.

"Why it's..." he stuttered.

"Yes, that's right, Gerard. This photo I found in Mr. Hoswell's room is a picture of Mrs. Hoswell and someone else. The back of the picture dates back to you." I said.

"But Duke, that means..." Ellie stuttered. She put the pieces as quick as I did when I saw the picture.

"That's right, Ellie. Caroline Hoswell, you are the murderer!" I announced, pointing at her. Everyone gasped again.

"That's correct. You guys all thought it was the butler didn't you? So much incriminating evidence against him. But all this was a clever ploy to throw all suspicion towards Gerard. I mean, it's always the butler, isn't it?" I claimed. No one spoke. No one dared to say anything, and that chill of silence hung in the air like clothes out to dry.

"You guys still don't see it? Fine, I, the great Duke Harison, will explain. Here's what happened." I said.

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"Now, before I begin why it was Caroline, who will either remain silent or deny until I play my trump card, I must explain why it couldn't be Gerard. Now, Gerard, weren't cooking? I mean, you could've easily slipped out, correct." I asked.

"Yes, I could have easily slipped out." he admitted.

"Well, you couldn't have. You were cooking gravy and would have to have stirred constantly to avoid burning." I said, "Plus he didn't know Martin's door code."

"But that doesn't mean he couldn't have slipped out." Janine said.

"That's right. But benefit of the doubt or innocent until proven guilty applies here. But this is what Caroline did. She went out, did some gardening, got the ladder in the greenhouse here, went up the side of the building, shimmied across the ledge and coming through the window opened earlier. There are still red clay marks on the ladder." I said.

"No, I used the ladder to water the hanging plants." she said smugly.

"You could have. There are no traces of the special red clay along the ledge, but Mr. Hoswell was a large man. It would've been tough to pull him on the rope with your strength after you strangled him first. So, you probably wrapped the rope around your arms to pull him up. Rope burns would confirm my theory." I said. I walked towards her, grabbed her wrist and pulled up her sleeves to reveal red markings on her arms. Right on the money.

"You were going to use the second pair of gloves you brought, but you forgot them in the greenhouse. You couldn't have gone back to fetch them because it started to rain and the particular red clay would appear more distinctly. Am I right, Caroline?" I said, smiling smugly.

"D-d-d-d-detective..." she stuttered.

"Don't forget! The soup on the table, what was it? Tomato? That's right, the can is right here, right next to your gloves." I said, revealing them behind me.

"You did it because your husband stole you from your past fiancé by a mac & cheese corporation take over. It drove him out of business and he commited suicide. You thought you could throw the blame on Gerard because the man who committed suicide was..."

"...his twin brother." she finished, looking down in shame. I could hear her crying softly and I felt she was going to confess. This was what I had planned.

"You're right. I killed my husband. I planned it ever since he quickly proposed after he died. I accepted just so I could get near him to kill him." she said. She started crying more after that. Everyone else had their heads down in shame, I just ended up standing silently, waiting for the sirens to come. A horrible and vicous tragedy had come upon the Hoswell Family. Only time could heal their wounds.

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Mrs. Hoswell thought she could blame Gerard because she thought no one would be able to tell the difference between Gerard and his brother. She thought that the motive of stealing 'Gerard's' lover would be a sufficient motive to implicate him. But even she failed to realize the small difference, a mole under the lip. So insignificant that anyone with the naked eye would simply disregard it. But I saw it. I even had a picture of Gerard next to his twin to back up my claim. My conviction/theory had solid evidence. Plus, I did what my motto always tells me to do.

It's the little things, the things we overlook, that are the most important.