The Final Part

By Mark Quinn

The fog outside Pennybank Theatre is a real pea souper as the guests arrive clutching their personal invitations within their sweaty palms. No-one knows the reason for the show tonight except Superintendent Cyril Choppybottom as the auditorium fills with the murder suspects. The superintendent dims the lights.
“Bloody hell, we can’t see where we’re going!” Shouts out a murder suspect.
The superintendent quickly lights up the theatre again.
“That’s better,” another one says.
The crowd find their seats.
“Ok,” the superintendent dims the lights once more as the audience look toward the stage.
The superintendent walks onto the stage.
“Jesus, he’s not going to sing like he did last year is he?” Imogen Armitage says.
“Ladies, gentlemen, them and they, welcome to tonight’s performance of Catch A Killer. You kno…”
“Who are they and them?” Someone shouts.
“What?” Replies the superintendent.
“You said ‘ladies, gentlemen and they and them’, well, who is they and them?” Says Ginger Charlie Hopkins.
“It’s what you say now ‘they and them’, oh, shut up Charlie and let me get on I only booked the theatre for an hour and half.”
“Are you going to sing?” Another voice shouts.
“No I’m not.”
“Thank God.”
“I’m going to name the Pennybank Theatre murderer tonight, that is why I called you all here, and I’ll explain everything.”
The superintendent looks into the crowd.
“It took a bit of working out, but I put every bit of the puzzle together and it is quite complicated, but here goes…and don’t think of leaving, there is a police constable on every door and window.”
The audience mumble together.
“Let’s first start off with the first night I arrived at the theatre, I walked into that hideous living room of yellow and green, that must never be seen, and I noticed something straight away on the coffee table and I mentioned it to Ginger Charlie Hopkins. It was about whether Sally was religious, it was because there was a bible on the table and then the running shoes, we know Sally was about as fit as two fat men walking a flight of stairs and the hideous blood orange paint in the bathroom – nobody paints their bathroom orange!”
“I did,” says a voice from the audience.
The superintendent ignores the shout out and continues.
“So I continued my investigation by visiting a few suspects and found out a few surprising things.”
Superintendent Cyril Choppybottom walks down the little steps towards the audience.
“And how are you tonight Sister Tabatha? Or should I call you, Gordon Groundstake!”
The superintendent rips off the sister’s habit to reveal a balding, unshaven male.
‘Oooh,’ cry out the rest of the audience.
“It was as much of a surprise to me as it is to most of you lot, but not to you…” the superintendent points his claw, “Imogen Armitage the third, you knew this all along because you and the nun are lovers.”
‘Oooh,’ cry out the audience again.
“Just because you saw a bible on the coffee table? That is ridiculous. That bible could have been Vicar Thompson’s. How do you know he is not the killer?” Shouts out the male nun.
“Because Sister Tabatha…Gordon…whomever you really are, when Ginger Charlie Hopkins called at my house that night I wasn’t having port and biscuits, I was having passionate relations with the vicar!”
‘Ooooh,’ cry out the audience.
“But let’s not distract from the truth. I noticed defensive wounds on Sally’s claws but no furr, we all know sphynx have no furr don’t we Imogen?”
“So you’re saying I killed her with my lover Gordon?” “No not at all, you just gave her a battering because she didn’t like your idea of blood orange paint. But you forgot to take the paint back and you, Gordon, the perverted nun, forgot your running shoes and bible because the sight of seeing Imogen all hot and angry turned you on and you both got carried away with each other.”
‘Ooooh,’ cry out the audience.
“So, how did Sally Comelightly die? Who killed her?” Says Vicar Thompson.
“Well my dear, it was no other than Sally’s childhood sweetheart and lover, Charlotte Spinningwheel!”
“Blood and sand,” cries out Ginger Charlie Hopkins.
“That’s right Ginger Charlie, Charlotte Spinningwheel. I noticed on Sally’s dead body that furr was missing from the left side of her throat. She was choked to death by the only way a cat can kill…the choke hold. Many cats do it by holding their victims by the throat within their jaws. It’s the most powerful and cruel death.”
Superintendent Cyril Choppybottom walks over towards Charlotte Spinningwheel.
“But how did you know it was me?”
The superintendent jumps on Charlotte, forces her jaws apart and plucks out some fur from the back teeth.
“Sally’s fur, that’s how I know, now take her away.”
After all suspects were dealt with in the proper fashion relating to Sally’s death, Ginger Charlie Hopkins walks over to Superintendent Cyril Choppybottom.
“You know that night I first called at your house and you said before that you were with the vicar, and not having crackers and port night?”
“Yes,” replies Cyril.
“Please tell me it was a cheesy cracker you spat in my face…”

THE END