Chapter 8 - It took you this long to figure it out?
"Twenty-one year old Todd Davis was found dead last night outside the malt shop where he had been working as a waiter for the past three years. Witnesses claim they had seen him leaving the shop and heard, what sounded like, a gunshot in the nearby alley less than a moment later. Todd was found lying dead in the alley with a gunshot wound in the side of his head. Police have yet to find out whether it was murder or suicide and are questioning..."
Velma stared at the television screen, spellbound. Having lived her whole life in a town that claimed to be "the most hauntedest place on earth" and spent the majority of her teenage years battling creatures that could turn your blood to ice, Velma was certain that she could handle a simple report on a murder. Apparently she was very, very wrong. Disturbed, she quickly turned off the TV and looked over at Shaggy and Scooby who sat together on the adjoining bed and stared at the screen with equally shocked expressions. The forks they were using to eat their breakfast slipped from their hands and made a loud clatter on their plates.
The trio had opted to spend the night in a hotel in the centre of town. While the gang had grown used to spending long periods of time in the Mystery Machine from all their road trips, they would be lying if they said they didn't grow tired of it on occasion. The hotel, while modest, was very well-kept and inviting. They had managed to find a room big enough for the three of them with two queen-size beds and a TV at a very reasonable price. Shaggy and Scooby had even sampled some of the food in the restaurant and declared it was "the best culinary creation since Scooby Snacks". They'd had breakfast delivered to them that morning, but now they seemed to have lost their appetite.
"Do ya think it might've been that Mercia Fleach who did it, Velm?" Shaggy questioned.
"It does sound likely" she replied. "Todd said that Mercia had threatened to kill him if he told us and..." she paused. "Wait, what did you say?"
"What did I say, when?"
"You said Fleach instead of F Leach."
Shaggy's eyebrows rose in recognition. "Oh yeah. Like, so I did, ha-ha. Why do you ask, Velm?"
But Velma didn't answer. She was too busy fumbling in her pockets. "Do either of you guys have a...oh, it's ok, I found one" she said, pulling a pen out of her pocket. She placed the receipt on the bedside table and turned it over so the blank side was facing up. She then scrawled the name Mercia F Leach onto the paper.
While she was doing this, Shaggy and Scooby walked over to see what she was doing and peered over her shoulder curiously. She was fervently crossing out various letters in the name and rewriting them in a different order. "It's an anagram" she told them. "You know, when a word or name is rearranged to make a new one."
"Like when spar becomes rasp?" Shaggy asked.
"Exactly" Velma said as she crossed out the last letter and gasped. "Oh. My. God."
"What's up, Vel...?" Shaggy cut his question short when he saw the new name Velma had made. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened to the size of tennis balls. The name was Marcie Fleach.
Everyone stood gaping at the receipt while precious seconds ticked by. All at once, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Marcie must have come up with the whole scheme to get back at Velma for replacing her with Daphne. She had used the name Mercia F Leach as her pseudonym, knowing that the gang would come looking for her if they suspected she was the culprit. And she must have been the one who told Todd not to tell them anything about the attack and, therefore, the one who had killed him. It all made sense now.
"Like, I don't believe it" Shaggy gasped.
"I know" Velma agreed. "I mean, I never thought Marcie was the vengeful type."
"No. Like, I can't believe it took us nearly a day to work out that Mercia F Leach is Marcie Fleach."
