Can you solve this mini-mystery? A
ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME
By
Richard Ciciarelli Detective
Anne Sharma stood looking at a
mess of wooden stems, black and shriveled leaves and dead blossoms,
surrounded
by vibrant green, yellow and orange marigolds. “Did
the chief really assign me to a case
involving dead flowers?” she wondered. “You
see?” Sharma’s thoughts were
interrupted by the voice of Mabel Griffith. “My prize roses. Ruined by
some
vandal. And I would have won the city’s gardening contest for the third
consecutive year.” “I’m
so sorry for your loss,” Sharma
said. “Do you have any idea when this could have happened?” “I
began noticing my roses were looking
sickly a few days ago. And things got progressively worse. That’s about
how
long it takes for weed killer to take effect, so I’m guessing someone
sprayed
my flowers on Monday or Tuesday.” “Good.
We have a possible starting
point. Who came to your house on those days?” “No
one,” Griffith said. “And if I did
have any visitors, they wouldn’t have come back here. I don’t allow
anyone in my
garden.” “Then
the vandal must have come at
night,” Sharma said. “I noticed your fence gate is well oiled and makes
no
noise when opened. That allowed someone to sneak in. Now, who would
want to
damage your roses?” “I
can give you three names,” Griffith
said, counting on her fingers. “Karen Burgess, Jane Willis and Lorraine
Paxton.
All ladies I’ve beaten in past garden shows and all who entered again
this
year.” “And
you think one of them did this to
prevent you winning for a third time?” Griffith
nodded. An
hour later Anne Sharma stood at the
door of Karen Burgess. “Mabel
thinks I killed her roses?”
Burgess said. “Why? Mine are ten times better than hers. Mine are a
rare cross
breed. I’m sure to win this year’s competition.” “Ms
Griffith doesn’t think so,” Sharma
said. “She claims you have the kind of weed killer used to destroy her
roses.” “Just
about every gardener in the city
does,” Burgess said. “It’s how we keep unwanted growth out
of our plant beds. If you ask me, Mabel knew she was going to lose and
sprayed
her own flowers as an excuse to avoid being embarrassed by the judges.” Next
Sharma visited Jane Willis. “Mabel
said that?” Willis said when
Sharma explained the situation. “Well, that doesn’t surprise me. She
always did
live in her own little world.” “Meaning?” “Meaning
she thinks she’s the world’s greatest horticulturalist and everyone
else is
jealous of her. So we all have the same kind of weed killer. So what?
That
doesn’t mean we’d use it on someone else’s plants. “And
I’ll tell you another thing: If I were to spray her garden, I wouldn’t
stop at
her roses. I’d spray everything, even the marigolds she uses to keep
bugs
away.” Sharma’s
last stop was at the home of Lorraine Paxton. “She’s
got a lot of nerve accusing me,” Paxton said. “Sure, I have weed killer
here,
but I’m not the only one.” “No,
but you did enter the garden competition in the rose category,” Sharma
said. “So
did a lot of others,” Paxton said. “If you ask me, Mabel should never
have won
the last two competitions. Her roses were nowhere near as good as mine.
I think
she paid off the judges. That would be something she’d do.” Detective
Sharma returned to police headquarters and plopped into her chair. “Tough
case?” Sergeant Jerry Hobbs asked. “Ridiculous
case is more like it,” Sharma said. “I wasted a whole day on a bunch of
roses
that were sprayed with weed killer.” Sharma’s
eyes widened. “That’s
it!” she said. “I know who sprayed those roses.” WHO SPRAYED MABEL GRIFFITH’S ROSES?
Please click here to reveal the answer. Copyright
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2020 Richard Ciciarelli. All rights reserved.
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