Henry and Abe walked to the antiques shop. Abe had his driver's license revoked that day because he had killed a total of 2,903 mimes in the past two weeks with his car, and he was still rather upset about having to take the subway. Henry was upset as well, but for a different reason.

"Why did you let me get involved in this case?" Henry asked frantically. "An innocent man now sits in prison, and I helped put him there."

"You don't know he's innocent. What about the affair? What about the false alibi?"

"But he loved her... why would he kill her?"

Abe pondered this for a moment. "I think I have an idea. Here's what happened."


Vicky had said her farewell to Professor Browning. He loved her, but couldn't take it anymore. He went to the bridge, and called Vicky, telling her he was going to jump.

Vicky rushed frantically over to the edge. She didn't see him at first. She walked to the railing.

"PROFESSOR BROWNING! Please, gods, don't let it be too late..."

"I'm right here, Vicky," Professor Browning said as he stepped from out of the shadows.

Vicky turned towards him. "I thought you were dead..."

"No... but you will be."

At that moment, Abraham Morgan drove up in his car, and impaled Professor Browning with a sword that belonged to Genghis Khan. The professor lay in a pool of his own blood.

"Where did you get that sword?" Vicky asked in awe.

"I run an antiques store downtown."

"That's amazing! Antiques are so interesting."

"I know, right? Just yesterday I recieved a lanyard from the 1950s. If you stop by, maybe I can show you my entire collection of lanyards."

"Can I go with you?"

"Sure. Don't mind the smell, there's a dead mime in the trunk. I have to dump him in Long Island Sound on the way."


Henry shook his head in disbelief at his son. "Do you really dump the mimes you hit with your car off Long Island?"

"Well, to be fair, that pile of dead mimes is really the best part of Long Island."

"I guess that's true. But that story is just silly. Vicky is dead."

"Well, maybe something like it could happen in the future. Oh, wait, somebody already took away my goddamn driver's license!" Abe said angrily.

"Abe, whoever did this planned it meticulously. Someone wanted her dead and made quite an effort to make it look accidental. This person is careful with murders, and therefore we can't waste time with fantasies. There could be another murder."

Abe sighed. "Fine, Dad. Come here, I want to show you something. I did a little research on your anonymous friend."

"Did you find out where the paper came from?"

"Yeah, but keep your expectations low. It was manufactured in Concercca Paper Mill in Milan, but the mill was destroyed during World War II. No other pieces of paper from that mill are known to exist today. The crest at the top is from the Hotel Montliogne, but I'm afraid it's been closed for the last 60 years. But don't worry, we're going to learn more about this guy."


Flashback: Hotel Montliogne, 1945

Henry looked over the note he had written Abigail.

Dear Abigail,

I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry, but I can't be with you anymore. Over time you'll grow old, and I won't, and it will end in tears. I don't want that for us. I have to leave.

If you still want this relationship to continue, well... last night I boiled your favorite curry recipe, then I served it to you for breakfast. I'm sure that will change your mind about wanting this.

- Henry

He didn't actually boil the curry, because that would be disgusting. But, if that would make it easier on her, so be it. He walked out of the hotel room, sobbing in silent tears.

As he walked down the streets of Milan, Henry heard a familiar voice. "Henry!"

"Abigail, I'm sorry..."

"Why?"

"Because it won't work. Because it can't work."

"I've read your letter. Do you love me?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. But trust me, over time, it won't end well."

"Who cares how it ends? Life is about the journey, no matter how long it lasts. I'm sorry, Doctor Morgan... I'm not letting go so fast.

"I love you too, Abigail."

"And also, Henry..."

"Yes?"

"Don't do it again," she said, pulling out a dagger and stabbing him in the jugular vein.

"I guess... I learned from that one..." Henry sputtered, coughing up blood.

"The night's not over yet, Doctor Morgan."

He disappeared, and came back in the canals of Venice.


Henry burst into the morgue, with Lucas aleady there.

"What is it? It's two in the morning...

"Murder doesn't sleep, Lucas. Well, people who murder do sleep, I'm sure, but some who work night shifts don't, so..."

"I work night shifts, Henry. Now why did you call me here?"

"Sorry. If the professor's telling the truth, and I believe he is, he broke up with her and she didn't want to let it go."

"How do you know that?"

"She was a fighter. Scuff marks on her shoes and paint chips under her fingernails suggests a struggle. So, someone else lured her onto that bridge. She was surprised. What did she fight back with?"

"Umm... she headbutted him?"

"Not the wisest choice up on a ledge."

"She stared at him menacingly."

"I don't know how that would stop him."

"She challenged him to a slap fight. Can I go now?"

Henry thought for a moment. "That's brilliant, Lucas! Of course! This looks like a fingerprint, it seems she did slap her killer! Check that against Professor Browning's DNA."

"That won't be necessary. We have another body."

Henry left with Jo, leaving Lucas slamming his head against the corpse of the deceased in frustration.


"He got released on bail a few hours ago. Students say he looked despondent, and there's a suicide note. It's pretty clear what happened here."

"I couldn't agree more. This man was murdered. Let's take a step back. What is it we see here?"

"A dead guy with a suicide note. No bruising on this arms, means no one held him down. Blood all over the floor."

"You've seen quite a few of these, I'd imagine. Is there more blood than usual?"

"Uh... maybe..."

"Do you notice the line that the blood makes leading from the deceased?"

"Well, yeah..."

"His fingers were slit as well. Now if I wanted to kill someone and make it look like a suicide, I would slit the wrists, it's just more commonplace."

"So?"

"Jo, who have we interviewed who threatened to slit our fingers?"

"Well, there was Caligula..."

"Wait, what? Oh, right, the Roman emperor. Ha ha, Jo, very funny, but we're closing a case."

"We actually met someone who was completely insane, and he called himself Caligula. And he threatened to slit our fingers if we called him Maribelle. And we're not just closing the case, we're solving it. Sorry, but I'm with Henry on this one."

"My gut tells me otherwise, Jo."

"Mike, do you think you have some sort of magic crystal ball in your lower intestine?"

"Doesn't everyone? What, do you plan to use logic and reason to solve the case, just when my lower intestine is positively tingling? Don't make me call Lieutenant Reece."

Jo stood speechless. Then, they noticed something on the security camera. A cassowary was walking into the building.

Mike's eyes widened. "It's Mrs. Browning! I bet she killed the professor!"

"Cassowaries don't have opposable thumbs, Mike..."

"I know it! My gut tells me it's true. Officers, lock up that cassowary."

"Where's Henry when you need him..." Jo looked around. There was no sign of Henry.

"What is he up to now?" Jo said to herself. As the other officers were busy reacting to Officer Hanson's gut, she stared at the security footage, looking for Henry.