Columbo pushed the front door open and called out, "Sweetheart, I'm home."
Mrs. Columbo came out of the kitchen wearing her cooking apron. "Dinner will be ready soon."
"Oh, terrific…after the day I've had…" Columbo took off his raincoat, hung it on a peg on the wall, managed to get past the dining room, into the living room and promptly collapsed in an easy chair, "Food sounds good."
His wife came up behind him and stroked a soft hand over the top of his head, "Poor baby," she crooned, and kissed him, "Bad day?"
"Bad case," Columbo answered, "I don't wanna bore you with the details…every cop always gets a case that just drains him…I've already had a few, you know…but this sure feels like another one coming on. I'm almost positive who the killer is," he curled his fingers on one hand into a fist, "I just don't have any way to prove it yet," and the fist uncurled, "He's smart…he's relying on that."
"He thinks he knows more than you do?" she asked him.
"He's right," Columbo told her as he kicked his feet up on an ottoman set in front of his chair and leaned back and closed his eyes for a minute, "He knows how he committed the murder, I haven't got it figured out yet." He brought one hand up and rubbed directly above his eye.
"You want a drink?" Mrs. Columbo asked.
"Hmm," he hummed deep in his throat, "That does sound good, sounds better than a cigar in fact."
"You have had a rough day," she said to him as she headed into the kitchen.
"Oh, you don't know the half of it," Columbo opened his eyes.
A couple minutes later, she returned to the dining room with a cold drink in her hand. Columbo graciously accepted the glass and took a sip. "Ooh, that's just right, you always know how to get a drink just right, any kind, don't matter, I don't have that kind of luck, I try mixing drinks…ehh, that's why I leave that to you when we have company over. You know what you're doing."
"Frank," his wife sat down across from him on the couch and crossed one leg over the other and looked at him point blank, "What is the matter?"
He held his drink in one hand and helplessly tried gesturing with his free hand but nothing was coming across, he said simply, "It's just this case…usually by now I've got some idea of what happened, what's not right, how it happened…this time I'm stuck…if I can't figure it out, and this guy gets away, well that's just going to be that, I can't let that happen."
"It'll come to you," she assured him, "It always does. Lord knows you've had some tough ones over the years."
Columbo slowly nodded, "Yeah, I guess that's true. Boy there have been times though, it was pretty obvious right away, there's always something up front that sticks out, that doesn't make sense…the little things that keep so I can't sleep at night…here, the little thing is there is no little thing."
Mrs. Columbo stood up and went over to the easy chair and kissed him on top of his head and told him, "You'll get it, now come on, dinner's ready."
Columbo got up from his chair and seated himself at the dining room table where the chairs had already been pulled out and the table set. His wife disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before bringing out the main course on a platter. Columbo's eyes perked up.
"Oh! Leg of lamb roast, oh boy you sure know how to go all out for a guy," he beamed as he picked up a knife and fork.
Mrs. Columbo went back into the kitchen to bring out a chilled bottle of wine for the two of them. It was then that Columbo noticed a couple things: one, the house was unusually quiet for dinnertime, and two, only two places had been set at the table.
"Hey, where're the kids?" he asked.
"At a sleepover tonight, remember?" Mrs. Columbo said as she returned into the dining room.
"Oh that's right, they were staying over tonight, weren't they?" Columbo asked, "I don't know where my head is today. Gee, one of these days I'm going to come home and they're going to already be grown up and out of the house. And then where'll we be?"
"Well," she said as she opened the bottle and poured them each a glass, "The way I see it, we have two options for when that happens, either one, we could another kid, or two…"
"How about if we just get a dog?" Columbo asked.
"A dog?" she repeated as she looked at him.
"Yeah you know, those animals that walk on all fours and bark," Columbo said, "I hear having a dog around the house is terrific, you're never alone, there's always somebody excited to see you, and you can get a good guard dog so you never have to worry about anybody trying to break into the place."
"Oh Frank," his wife laughed, "Nobody's tried breaking into this house since we bought the place, we don't have anything anybody wants."
"Oh I don't know about that," Columbo replied, "Take that car out there."
"I wish somebody would," she told him sarcastically.
"Hey now," he raised his hand to get her attention, "That's a great car, that's a French car, you don't see many like that anymore."
"With good reason I'm sure," she responded as she sat down across from him at the table.
"You never know," Columbo said to her, smiling, "Get an experienced car thief who knows his cars, that could be a pretty tempting target."
"We can only hope," she remarked.
Columbo ignored his wife's teasing, "I don't know, it might be a good idea to get a dog, we might not be safer with one but maybe I'd feel safer having one around the house for when I'm not here, and it's just you and the kids. You know, that's one thing I manage to do right. Sometimes I can slip and tell people about you, but I never mention the kids, I make sure of that. As far as anybody who doesn't know us is concerned, we don't even have kids."
His wife laughed and told him, "Frank, if anybody were dumb enough to try breaking into this house," she pointed to herself, "I can take care of them."
"Oh I know you can, but I figured it'd be better if we let a dog do it instead," Columbo said, "If the dog bites an intruder, that's not so unusual. Ah well…maybe one day when the kids are a little older…"
Mrs. Columbo never cooked a bad meal but the leg of lamb tonight was better than he could remember any other she'd ever cooked. By the time dinner was over, Columbo found himself already feeling refreshed and renewed, and an idea came to him.
"You know, Rose," he said as he helped his wife clear the table, "There may be a way you can help me with this case."
"Oh really?" she asked, surprised, "How?"
"Well, are you still taking that speed reading course at the night school?" he asked.
She nodded as she put the dishes in the sink, "We just read through War and Peace in one week."
"Oh gee, that's fantastic," Columbo said, "I tried reading it once…come to think of it, I don't know if I ever finished it…oh well…"
"What's that got to do with your case?" she asked.
"Well you see," he told her, "The guy I think is good for it, he's a mystery writer, he's written 27 murder mysteries, you can tell he doesn't have much of an outside life, no real family, no kids, anyway...and he's given his own first editions to me to read through…now, part of me is figuring there can't possibly be anything in them connected to the murder he's committed, because that would be too obvious. But 27 books…on the other hand he's probably figuring I'll give up before I get too far into them, so if there is a connection, I won't find it."
His wife nodded, "That's probably what most people would do."
"Well anyway," Columbo said, "I'm figuring maybe you could take half and I could take the other half, and that way I'll know half of them because I read through them myself, and maybe you could fill me in on the other half so I can at least sound like I read them if he asks…and I figure with you learning how to speed read, you could probably get through your half a lot quicker than I could get through mine."
"Sure," she replied as she put the stopper in the sink to fill it up, "Sounds like fun."
"Oh I'm glad to hear that," he said, "You see, I got them out in the car…I was going to bring them in after dinner and get started on them."
"Sure," Mrs. Columbo told him as she started washing the dishes, "If it'll help you with your case, I'd be thrilled to do it."
"Oh that would help me out a lot," Columbo said, "Between you and me, I think it messes with these people when it seems I can get something done much faster than they'd think I could."
"That's part of being a good cop, Frank," she told him, "Being able to psyche people out."
"Boy I know that's true," he said as he picked up a dish towel, "You'd be surprised the things people will do, and that they'll say, when they think you're not too bright. It never ceases to amaze me, and I've seen a lot of it in this line of work."