The body on the floor was still warm, though the blood surrounding it had recently cooled. From the plate glass window at the front of the office, moonlight shone in a rectangle upon the dead teletubby. Tinky Winky was dead, murdered in the front office of the Teletubbies Detective Agency. In the background, sirens wailed as red lights pulsed over the purple felt of his body. The three other teletubbies tore their gaze from the body of their murdered friend to stare at each other. Tears streamed down Dipsy's face, saturating the green felt of his neck. Po incredulously shook her red head. Laa-Laa clenched her yellow fists, anger marring her usually happy face.
The police gently asked each of the remaining teletubbies what happened. The answer is the same for them all: they got a call from a neighboring business, saying that screams were heard in the office. By the time they arrived, Tinky Winky was dead and the killer was nowhere in sight. Bloody footsteps led to the bathroom, which was covered in blood. The killer had taken time to clean themselves before leaving the agency.
The coroner solemnly retrieved Tinky Winky's body, the police officers removing their hats as he passed. Everyone on the force knew the four teletubbies. Their detective agency solved murders and various other crimes since 2001, when their television show ended with BBC.
The next afternoon, the autopsy report came in. Tinky Winky had been stabbed 37 times. Most of the lacerations covered his face. There would be no open casket funeral for the fallen detective, for no funeral home could hope to repair the mottled flesh that once served as a symbol of happiness for children everywhere. Po broke down at the news, her sobs filling the office space. She had loved Tinky Winky with all her heart, if five years of marriage had to show for anything.
"We need to do something," Laa-Laa said from behind her desk.
"Maybe we should just let the police handle this one." Dipsy knocked back another cup of coffee. None of them had slept since the night before.
"And what? Have the case grow cold?" Laa-Laa stood up. "One of our friends has been murdered. You read the report- 37 stab wounds. That's overkill in my book. You don't stab someone 37 times to make sure they're dead. You stab them that much because you're angry. This was a crime of passion, and it's my passion to solve them."
She looked to Po, whose sobs had quieted. "Besides, we're the best damn detectives this town has. It's us or nothing."
Dipsy didn't reply, instead nodding his head slowly. He couldn't argue with truth, though he was loathe to see what secrets his friend would uncover. Dipsy and Laa-Laa left Po at the office. She had a funeral to arrange and she wasn't in the right state of mind to go tracking down killers.
The two began at Mulligan's Pub, where Dipsy and Tinky Winky had drinks the previous night. No one could remember Tinky Winky talking with anyone else, though the bartender stated he saw Tinky Winky in a heated phone conversation as he left, heading towards Main Street. Tinky Winky said something about truths that needed to be heard. It was all the bartender could remember; the night had been busy and he only had two minutes for a cigarette break.
The two walked towards Main Street. At the last building before it ended, a man in a ragged suit stepped out into the sunshine. Seeing the two, he waved them over.
"Hey," he said, sqinting in the light, "I need to talk with Tinky Winky. He stopped by last night, but I was in no state to talk business then, if you know what I mean." He leaned towards the two and winked. He stank of marijuana and stale beer, making Laa-Laa crinkle her nose.
"What did he want to talk about?" Dipsy asked, taking a small step back from the reeking man.
"I have his divorce papers all written up, but I need him to look over some things before we present it to his wife." The man smiled. "I don't like to talk with clients under the influence. Bad for business, you know."
"I'm… sure it is." Laa-Laa said.
"So anyway, if you see him, tell him to come by." The man gestured to the building next to him. It was shabby, with greasy windows obscuring everything inside. J. Hackney Law was printed across the door, though many of the letters were bleached by the sun and covered in scratches.
"I'm sorry to inform you, but Tinky Winky is dead." Laa-Laa shook her head.
"Oh," the man paused, "Well, if you guys find the killer, give him my card." He handed over a wrinkled business card that Dipsy gave back.
"That won't be necessary. I think we have all that we need. Thank you for your time." He and Laa-Laa walked into the park, settling themselves on a bench.
"I can't believe he was going to get a divorce. I thought everything was happy between them. And what is with getting such a slimy lawyer like that? Tinky Winky didn't like anyone but professionals handling his stuff." Laa-Laa rubbed her eyes.
Dipsy took a moment to answer. "Maybe he didn't want any of us to know about it. I mean, we know all of the lawyers in this place. The last place we would think to look was with some slimeball like that."
"Maybe. Do you think he was going to tell Po last night about wanting a divorce? That could have been what the whole 'truth that needs to be heard' was about." Laa-Laa stared at a flock of pigeons pecking at the sidewalk close by.
As Dipsy opened his mouth to reply, Laa-Laa's phone rang. She answered, but didn't speak much. After a chorus of "Uh-huh" and "Yeah," she hung up. Dipsy waited expectantly.
"That was forensics. They recovered Tinky Winky's phone with his body, and read through the messages." She looked at Dipsy. "It turns out he was having an affair- with you."
Dipsy's face fell. He leaned forward with his head in his hands. "We were."
Laa-Laa momentarily went silent. "How long?"
He sighed. "Two years. He married Po because his parents always wanted grandchildren, but it wasn't the lifestyle for him. He didn't like women the same way he liked men."
"No one ever told me this."
"I know. No one was ever supposed to find out. I guess-" He paused, a strangled sob escaping his throat. "I guess he was tired of living a lie. He told me all the time about how he wanted to elope, for us to run off to Paris and get married under the Eiffel Tower. I- He always talked about like it was a dream, a fantasy of things unlikely to ever happen. And now it never will!"
Laa-Laa watched as her friend broke down. She waited until they had became a few whimpers before speaking again. "I think we need to go speak with Po." Dipsy nodded in agreement, wiping his eyes.
Their walk to the office was uneventful, Laa-Laa texting as they walked. Once inside, Laa-Laa pointed out how the cleaning crew had already been there to clean up the mess. Dipsy said nothing, just followed Laa-Laa to the back office.
Inside, Po sat at Tinky Winky's large oak desk. It was ornately carved and took up most of the space in the office, but Tinky Winky had fallen in love with it at a yard sale, refusing to leave until it was in his possession. Po looked up from the desk, where she was holding a letter opener.
"We found out about the divorce." Laa-Laa said, sitting in a chair opposite her as she set her phone in her lap.
Po's gaze locked on Dipsy and hardened. "You just had to go and meddle with our perfect life, didn't you? Everything was fine until you corrupted him. You tainted him with your sweet nothings and promise of false happiness."
"I did nothing. I can't help the way that Tinky Winky felt, nor can I help that he made me feel the same way. Besides, I'm not the only one hiding secrets here." Dipsy sat next to Laa-Laa.
"What does he mean by that, Po?" Laa-Laa looked between the two.
"I can't conceive children. We've been trying for years, but I went to the doctor one day to find out what was wrong. She said that I couldn't bear a child, that I couldn't ever give my husband what he truly wanted." Tears spilled down her face. "What's worse is I knew he wasn't being faithful. All of those extra hours at the agency and the time spent with you," she spat at Dipsy, "at the bar. I just never thought that you would be the one to betray me like that."
"Why did you kill your husband?" Laa-Laa asked.
"I- I didn't mean to!" She cried out, sobs breaking her voice. Her eyes flicked to the letter opener still clutched in her hand. "I was willing to pretend like nothing was wrong, like everything was fine between us! But then, he said he wanted a divorce, and that he couldn't live with the guilt of what he was doing anymore. I just- I saw red! If he couldn't live with the guilt anymore, I would make sure he didn't have to! I grabbed the letter opener off of my desk and swung it at him until I didn't feel angry anymore. By the time I realized what had happened, he was gone and I was covered in blood. I went to the bathroom to clean up and left for home. Oh god, I didn't know what else to do, you have to believe me!"
"I've heard enough," she said, hitting a button on her phone. Turning in her seat, she called out to the front office behind her, "Okay guys, you can come in now."
Two police officers walked into the office. One put handcuffs on Po while the other read her rights. That done, they escorted her out into a waiting police car.
Dipsy turned to Laa-Laa. "What are we gonna do now?"
"I'm going to get this recorded confession to the police," she sighed, "and then, I don't know. We'll have to wait and see.