Allies and Rivals III
This fic happens after Allies and Rivals II: Commander and the Leader. But reading that fic and my other fics is not necessary for understanding or enjoying this fic. There are references to my other fics, notably Allies and Rivals and Allies and Rivals II. However, the only thing that needs to be understood in this was that a certain Dr William Edwards was the one who recreated the Rowdyruff Boys, not Him, after they were first destroyed by the girls by being kissed, and under his guidance, they were not evil anymore. And they were in alliance with the girls, called the Ruff Puff Alliance, with Blossom and Brick alternating as leader.
Summary: The Powerpuff Girls and Rowdyruff Boys race against time to prevent an evil from escaping to this world. Who are your true friends, allies, and enemies?
Disclaimer: I don't own the Powerpuff Girls or their characters. The Powerpuff Girls are owned by Craig McCracken and Cartoon Network. I only own my own characters, the most prominent of which is Dr Edwards.
Chapter IV
Suicide or Murder?
A. Mr. Hoefel's Narrative
The City of Townsville…
"What?" said Dr. Edwards in shock. "How, what, when…how could this be? Boys, Grulp is dead. Murdered!"
"So you're saying about something to turn up before we reopen the case?" asked Butch mockingly at Brick.
"Well I'll be! Geez! God! Well, this opens a whole can of worms," said Brick. "And I thought that the case was close."
"Well, whoever murdered him must have his brain stuck on his ass," said Boomer. "I'm sure as the devil himself that it had something to do with what he told us a few days ago."
"See, I told you!" said Butch triumphantly.
"Yeah, yeah," said Brick. "You're right, I'm wrong! But this has nothing to do with my dream and such. Boomer, go and call the girls! I want Blossom to know of this! Now!"
Brick and Butch then went and observed the man who brought the news. He was tall, about 6'0", though shorter than Dr. Edwards. He was wearing his dark blue policeman's uniform, though it was covered with drops of blood, especially the dark blue jacket and his face. His sleeves were also filled with drops of blood. He has brown hair and had no inverted mark in his forehead. His shoe was filled with a mixture of blood and mud, and it was evident by the shoe prints in the carpet.
"My carpet!" complained Ms. Lawrence as she immediately brought a rag and a mop to clean this one. "Mister, murder or not, you will not step on this carpet with those boots on? Ya' hear?"
"Yes Ma'am," said the policeman politely.
"William, I mean Dr. Edwards, next time you have a guest, tell them to wipe their shoes off before they ruin the carpet!" the 25 year old Ms. Lawrence complained.
Dr. Edwards sighed. "Yes, Tiffany, I mean Ms. Lawrence. Geez, Alex has been murdered and all you can do is complain about the carpet!"
"Well, try cleaning a stained carpet, and come back and tell me again about complaining!" Ms. Lawrence retorted. "Alex? Dead?" she gasped.
"Yes, he was. Now can you please go and do the dishes? And call my sons here so they can listen to what he's going to say."
"And you call him Alex! And yet you refuse to let us be on a first name basis? Even after four years of living here keeping this house for you!" Ms. Lawrence complained. "That said, it's really really terrible for this to happen. I mean, he was your friend since you were in high school, if I remember?"
"Actually, elementary," said Dr. Edwards. "I lost a dear friend today. He was my friend along with John during those times, and the only one of us who didn't go to the principal's office almost every day. He was always there to help me, and he bailed John and me countless times when we were in trouble. Oh I'm going to find out who the hell did this, and when I'm through, I'm going to get my shotgun, shove the barrel up his ass, and shoot him!"
This time, his face became that of sadness.
"Oh I'm sorry William," said Ms. Lawrence, scooting close to him. "I really had no idea that you were this close."
"Ms. Lawrence, I think you better attend to your duties," said Dr. Edwards. "And call me Dr. Edwards, not William… oh never mind. Okay, you can call me by my first name, Ms. Lawrence."
Ms. Lawrence merely nodded with a mixture of sadness and triumph as she went to the kitchen. Sadness because of the tragedy, triumph because she finally was able to call the doctor by his first name instead of his title after four years.
"Dad! What happened?" asked Brick when his father finally stopped talking to Ms. Lawrence.
"That woman would be the death of me! Anyway, Brick, Butch, the man here just told me that Grulp is dead," said the doctor.
"Who are you, and what happened to you?" asked Brick when he diverted his attention to the police officer. "Why are you covered with blood?"
"My name is Patrolman Charlie Hoefel," said the tall policeman. "You see, the reason I'm covered with blood is that—"
"Wait! Wait a minute," said Brick. "Stop right there."
"What's the hold-up, son?" asked Dr. Edwards.
"We'll wait for the girls. I for one do not relish retelling to them what he's going to say," said Brick.
Meanwhile…
The Powerpuff Girls were asleep in their bed. It was about six-forty five, and they do not rise up as early as the boys. They were cuddled in their bed, the blinds on their circular windows closed.
Until the Professor called, that is.
"Girls, Boomer is on the phone and he wants to say something—"
"Boomer?" Bubbles said as she suddenly woke up at hearing his name. "I'm right there!" At an instant, she immediately flew downstairs to the phone.
"Actually, it was you Blossom, whom he wanted to talk to," said the Professor. "Oh well! I guess this won't hurt. If I'm not mistaken, I think that she has a crush on that boy."
Buttercup snickered. "Isn't it obvious? Ever since Dr. Edwards recreated the boys, she has a fancy for Boomer. Too bad Boomer always runs away or tries to avoid her."
"Yeah! I think he is either afraid of her, or something else," said Blossom.
"Hi Boomer," said Bubbles excitedly. "What's up?"
"Well, uh, you see," Boomer said on the phone. Bubbles could hear him breath hard. "Well, uh, anyway, could you, I mean, well, it's an emergency and I need to talk to Blossom!" he finally blurted out.
Bubbles pouted with disappointment. "Blossom, it's for you!"
"Coming," Blossom said as she flew fast towards the phone. "Hello?"
"It's Boomer. Listen. Alexander Grulp is dead. He was murdered. Wake up, get dressed, and come here as soon as you can. Remember, you're the damned leader for this month, and we can't do anything until you're here. And bring your sisters too!"
"Anything else, Boomer?" asked Blossom.
"No," said Boomer.
"By the way, Boomer," said Blossom, who was distracted by Bubbles' making hand movements and whispering, "I think Bubbles wants to talk to you."
"Sorry. I can't. Dad and Brick are calling me. Whatever it is she has to say has to wait," Boomer said before hanging up.
Blossom turned to Bubbles. "Bubbles, Boomer—"
Bubbles didn't wait for her to finish but instead grabbed the phone.
"Boomer?" asked Bubbles expectantly, but the line was dead. He turned to Blossom.
"I'm sorry, but this is an emergency. Go and tell Buttercup to get dressed. We'll have to skip breakfast."
"But Boomer—" Bubbles whimpered.
"Former Police Chief Alex Grulp was dead—murdered," said Blossom harshly. "No, get dressed! We have no time to waste."
Bubbles was quite shocked about hearing this, but she understood. The girls quickly changed from their nightgowns to their normal clothes. Buttercup—her jeans and T-shirt and socks and white rubber shoes, Bubbles—her ankle-length jumper dress over a long sleeved light blue blouse and white woolen stockings and shoes, while Blossom, a knee length full skirt with a matching T-shirt, socks and matching shoes and a large red bow on her head.
Ten minutes later, they arrived at Edwards' house. Mr. Hoefel was sitting on the couch, while Boomer was busy taking pictures of his muddy and bloodstained shoe prints on the carpet, and getting a sample of it—on Brick's orders—on plastic. Butch mostly observed Mr. Hoefel, who himself was smoking one of Dr. Edwards' expensive cigars, crouched over his knees in the couch, with a look of anxiety on his face. Dr. Edwards and Brick were talking, while Ms. Lawrence put some food for the policeman. Mr. Hoefel didn't touch any of the food, though they did later serve a purpose since the girls, who never had breakfast at home, would eat it.
There was a knock on the door, and Ms. Lawrence opened it. "Girls! John!" she exclaimed. "We're waiting for you."
The three girls and the Professor opened the door, and Bubbles screamed at the sight of the blood stained Mr. Hoefel.
"What happened?" she asked hysterically.
"Calm down!" Boomer snapped. "He was on the scene of the crime and he was going to tell us what happened. That's why he's covered with blood."
"Oh, sorry," said Bubbles—looking at the blue ruff, blushing. "Thanks Boomer. I thought—"
"Well, I ah, you see," Boomer began, his nervousness and sweat returning to him as he realized and remembered who he was talking to.
"It's alright, Bubbles," said the Professor, hugging her tightly. Though he himself did not believe it. He then refused a cigar offered by Dr. Edwards.
"Anyway, I think Mr. Hoefel should start his narrative, provided that Blossom agrees?" Brick said.
Blossom nodded.
"Oh by the way, this is Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup, the female half of the Ruff-Puff Alliance," said Dr. Edwards. "And their father over there is the famous and respected Professor Utonium."
"Before you start," said Ms. Lawrence, "do you want coffee?"
"Yes," said Mr. Hoefel, "make mine black. No creamer, please."
"Okay," said the housekeeper.
"Anyway, I am beat cop of modest means. I live alone in a suburban house at 35 Brixton Road, my parents having died years ago and having no one else. I have worked as a cop for ten years now, you see? I'm 33 years old, though as you see, promotion has been slow for me. Anyway, to continue, it was about four in the morning, and I was walking my beat, when—"
"Wait a minute," asked Butch. "Since when have you been walking the beat at Brixton road?"
"Since July 13," said Hoefel. "Chief Kaczinsci himself gave me this job. As I was saying, it was four in the morning. I remember it clearly since I looked at my watch as I passed the former Chief's house. At that very moment, I heard a gunshot from the house. I quickly took my pistol, and went in. I burst opened the front door, and there I saw it. Chief Grulp is dead. He was clutching a Colt .45 semiautomatic pistol on his right hand, and lying on a pool of his own blood with his face on the floor. I checked the gun, and it was still smoking."
"Wait a minute. Did you notice anybody else?" asked Blossom.
"None that I'm aware of, Miss," said Hoefel. "Now, I noticed a bullet hole in the back of his head, and I, out of panic, immediately turned him so he was facing the ceiling to find out if there was any way that I can revive him, not wanting to believe that he was really dead. That is why my uniform is bloodstained."
"Why did you do that?" asked Boomer. "I mean, surely, anybody who has a bullet hole in the back of his head is surely dead?"
"Aye! But I wasn't clearly thinking during that time. Grulp and I knew each other for many years," said Hoefel. "Anyway, as soon as I was sure that he was dead, I immediately contacted the Police Chief, and an hour later, they arrived. Then it came to me that it is best that I inform you so you can help the police."
"Okay. Anyway, when you entered the house, did you see any sign of break-in, or forced entry?" asked Blossom.
"None. When I entered, I had to break the door, and when I went around, there was nothing to indicate that anyone entered forcibly," said Hoefel.
"Yeah. This is off topic, but can I take a look at your gun?" asked Brick. "I've been admiring it since you got here, and I want to compare it to Dad's."
"Sure thing, kiddo. Just be careful with it, it's loaded," said a smiling Hoefel as he gave his pistol to Brick. "Don't worry, it ain't cocked."
Brick eagerly took it and began to observe it with an obsession of a little boy towards his new toy. His father and brothers looked in amusement and approval, the Professor and the girls looked at him in horror.
"Brick, I don't think you should play with that," said the Professor. "Someone might get hurt!"
"Don't be such a spoilsport, John," laughed the doctor. "Let boys be boys! And a bullet can't hurt him! Besides, I've been teaching the boys how to use guns since last year! In fact, they're all quite good shots by now, having just recently learned how to use an AK-47 and an M-16! Last year, they learned how to shoot from a revolver, a Derringer and a rifle. As soon as it's legal for them to do so, I'll give them their own guns."
Brick took the magazine out of the pistol and began examining it, then popped it back in place. "This is a standard pistol for cops, correct?"
"Yup! A Colt .45 semiautomatic! A policeman's best friend," said Hoefel.
"Brick, give that gun back. I know your father told us you know how to handle those, but this is an investigation, and we haven't finished our interrogation," said Blossom. "Give it back, now!"
"But—"
"No buts, Brick! As your leader, I demand you give it back!" Blossom shouted.
Brick sighed. "Yes, your ugliness," he said as he handed it to Hoefel, who only chuckled.
"Brick, one of these days, I'm going to shut your mouth permanently!" Blossom warned. "Especially if you keep up this 'ugly' business. Anyway, was there any sign of struggle, like turned over furniture, broken dishes, anything?"
"None that I know of," said Hoefell. "That place, except for the body and the blood, was clean as a needle, and as spotless a blank slate."
"So you're saying is, that, there is no sign that anybody entered forcibly at all, no sign of struggle, which rules out a break-in," said Blossom. "Professor, Doctor, boys, I think we can learn all that we can learn from him. I think we better go to the scene of the crime."
The adults merely nodded, while the boys just looked at Mr. Hoefel. Blossom gave a knowing look at Brick, who just nodded with a small frown on his face.
Boomer then turned towards Butch. "Well, you're right. This case is not over, and well, we'll see. But you were right all this time."
"Yeah, you're not so bad as I thought," said Buttercup.
Butch just ignored Buttercup, like he always did, since they both can't stand each other. "Ha! I want to hear Brick and Blossom eat crow!"
"Well, I'm sorry for this," said Blossom. "If I had listened to you, then this probably wouldn't have happened at all."
"Well, I'm wrong, and you're right," admitted Brick. "But this hasn't had a thing to do with that mark, or that dream, okay?"
"Bubbles, I think you better tell Boomer whatever it is you want to tell him a while ago," said Blossom. The blond puff then slowly scooted towards the boys.
"Boomer?" she began.
"Yes?" he said without turning away from his brothers, whom he continued to talk with.
"It's me, and well, can I come over here this afternoon?" she asked.
Boomer suddenly got nervous and tongue-tied when he heard Bubbles. "Well, um, er, I don't think, ah, you see—"
Brick saw his brother's predicament. "Well, I don't think we have much free time this afternoon," said Brick. "Yes, you can go this afternoon, but don't try to distract my brother too much. We have too much work to do, you know."
"Ah, I know! I'm going to help!" Bubbles said and she chirped out and joined her sisters.
"Is she gone?" asked Boomer.
"Don't worry! I won't let the big bad girl get to you!" Brick said, laughing. "Though seriously, you gotta get over this! Get over being afraid of her!"
"I'm not afraid of her, you know," said Boomer. "Just don't leave me alone with her! It's scary, and she makes me feel quite nervous."
"Sissy!" Butch said in a dismissive tone towards his brother.
The adults minus Dr. Edwards went to the Policeman's car with Hoefel, while the kids plus Dr. Edwards went to his car.
"So what do you think?" asked the Doctor.
"I have a bad feeling about this," said Blossom. "There's more to it than meets the eye."
"Yeah. I think they want to silence Grulp," said Buttercup. "And if Butch's allegations are wrong, if there is nothing at all to his wild-eyed remarks on the V marks, if Grulp is lying, why would they have him murdered?"
"Yeah! If Grulp is lying, why would they kill him?" Butch asked. "See, I told you that there's something wrong with Ms. Bellum and the Mayor and the entire police force!"
"Whoa, whoa!" said Blossom. "We're still not sure about that! What we know is what Grulp said and his murder might be connected, though at this point, it's still too early to judge."
It was seven-thirty in the morning when they arrived at the scene of the crime.
B. The Scene of the Crime
The house was filled with policemen, with a yellow tape circling the house indicating that no one unauthorized could be allowed in. There were a lot of onlookers outside, while a couple of reporters and media personnel with their cameras were just outside, waiting for an official statement from the police. Just outside the door was a plainclothes detective, who on closer examination was the current Police Chief, Eliot Kaczinsci. They also noticed that every policeman on the job has an inverted V mark on their foreheads, with the exception of Hoefel.
"Where have you been, Patrolman Hoefel?" asked Kaczinsci.
"Well, I thought it best to inform our superheroes what happened," said Hoefel. "I mean, we always do it before. Besides, I think they'll be a mighty help for us!"
"Look, I didn't say anything about calling them, did I? Besides, I'm not Grulp, I'm Kaczinsci, and no one but the police would have the right to be part of our investigation. You, Mister, are insubordinate and therefore, suspended for one week. However, you will be involved in this case, but only as a witness, understand?" Kaczinsci then turned towards the kids and the two men. "Well, since you're already here, how can I help you? But this is the last time I'm going to let you be involved in police business, understand?"
"Well, could we go look at the scene of the crime?" asked Blossom.
"Go ahead," said Kaczinsci. "Doctor, Professor, might I have a word with you?"
"Okay," said Blossom. "Who wants to examine the body?"
"I'll do it," said Butch.
"And Butch, see if he is still clutching the handgun on his right hand, and if so, take it to me, I want to examine it," Brick added.
"Anyway, Boomer, Bubbles, you two go and find clues, like footprints, marks, or anything. Buttercup, you go inside the house and see if there is anything unusual. Brick, see if you can get Alex Grulp's files. It should give us something to look at," Blossom ordered.
"And you, your ugliness?" asked Brick.
"Stop calling me that, you jerk!" Blossom replied. "Anyway, I think I'll be going with Buttercup and look around the house."
"I think I'll go with you," said Brick. "Maybe we can find something there, don't you think? But I think we must tell those idiots to leave the house so we can work in peace?"
"Idiots?" asked Blossom.
"The police," said Brick.
"That is no way to refer to our fine brave police officers," said Blossom. "But you're right. Mr. Kaczinsci, could you please ask your officers to leave the house so we can work?"
"What, you can't tell me to order my men out?" Kaczinsci protested. "Well, okay, if that is what you want," he relented. He walked towards the house, and ordered the police inside to get out.
C. The House
"Thanks," said Blossom before the four entered. Butch entered first, then Buttercup, then Blossom, and finally, Brick. Butch immediately went towards the kitchen where the body still lay, covered with a white sheet. The edges of it were soaked with blood.
With a steely hand, the ruff lifted the sheet to view the body. He nearly vomited and cried when he saw the body, now white and stiff. It was facing upwards, with the eyes closed, though the area between his nose and mouth was grossly disfigured, as it was clear that the bullet came through there. He lifted the body and looked at the back of his head, and saw the hole at the base of his skull where the bullet came through. He was disgusted, but his toughness prevented him from gagging. As a result, his hands and sleeves and pants were stained with blood that still formed a pool around his body.
He quickly saw the gun in Grulp's right hand, and gave it to Brick.
Brick also saw the body, but didn't look at it as he went to Grulp's room to comb through his files. Mostly they were unimportant things like personal letters and such. Still, he quickly searched the hard drive of his computer and printed his personal files, then collected other documents. He was somehow startled when Butch patted him on his back. He turned, and saw Butch hand him the pistol.
"This is the gun clutched in his right hand," said Butch.
Brick eagerly took it, and took off the magazine from the gun and examine the bullets on it. He took his small digital camera from his pocket and took a picture of the magazine. He then returned it to the gun. "Butch, return it to his hand. We don't want to be accused of pilfering evidence, now do we?"
Butch nodded and put the gun back on the right hand, and put back the white sheet over the body.
Blossom was looking around the house. She first looked at the back door and the front door with Buttercup. "Well, there was no sign of any forced entry, is there? The doorknob and locks are okay. So that definitely rules out that one, don't you think? The doorknobs and locks are still in place, the windows are all securely locked from inside, with no sign that it has been forcibly opened from the outside."
"Then, how could the murderer have entered?" asked Buttercup. "Hey, maybe he used a long-ranged rifle, and waited outside and shot him?"
"Maybe, we'll see. Now, Buttercup, comb the walls and see if there is any hole that might have been made if there was indeed a long ranged rifle used. The glass windows is still intact, meaning that if what you're saying is true, then he was shot through the wall," said Blossom. Both girls went to the kitchen, where by now, Butch had put back the sheets back on.
"What are you doing?" the green ruff asked.
"Finding for a bullet hole in the wall," said Buttercup. "I think he may have used a high powered rifle that pierced the wall and killed him."
"Well, if a high powered rifle that was powerful enough to make a hole in a concrete wall was used, then the head of that body over there would be masses of shattered skull and guts and blood instead of an intact head," Butch reasoned. "I know. I have used such guns on the heads of deer and other animals in our forest."
"What? You shoot animals?" asked Blossom.
"Yup! Dad has taught us to hunt using rifles as early as last year, and we know how a shot from a pistol, a rifle, or a machine gun looks like," said Butch. "Brick and Boomer are among the best shots out there, though I'll overtake them yet!"
"Well, don't mention any of this hunting to Bubbles, or she'll go nuts," said Blossom.
"Ha, you're wrong," said Buttercup. "Look, a bullet hole in the wall!"
"Hm, let's see," said Blossom, peeking at the hole. "Nope Buttercup! It has no hole on the other side. Evidently, the bullet wasn't strong enough to make a hole in the thick concrete wall."
"Yup! In fact, here is the bullet," Butch said as he probed the hole with his fingers until he extracted the bullet. "Hey Brick, I think I might have found the bullet!"
Brick, who was busy printing files from Mr. Grulp's computer, immediately went to where Butch and the two girls were. "Let me see," he said, taking the bullet. He immediately scanned it with his eye, got a small notebook from his pocket, wrote something in it, took his camera and took pictures of the bullet at different angles, and gave it to Butch. "Butch, put it back, so the police can find it and we won't be accused of stealing evidence."
Butch did as he was told.
"Well?" asked Blossom and Buttercup.
"It was from a colt .45 pistol, the standard pistol of your average police officer," Brick said.
"Probably went there from the back of his head, out of his head, then into that wall," said Blossom.
"So it couldn't be a sniper from outside," Buttercup conceded.
Buttercup then looked at the kitchen sink. It was clean, except for two cups. She picked it up, and looked in. She saw that there recently was coffee in the cups.
"Well Buttercup, what have you got there?" asked Blossom.
"Well, there are two cups, and it was filled with coffee," said Buttercup. "And by the looks of it, it was drank about four in the morning. One of the cups has coffee with creamer, while the other is black."
"So there were two people in the kitchen this morning, right before the murder," said Blossom.
"I think—" Butch began.
"Hush, Butch, we'll discuss this later," said Blossom. "These walls have ears, you know. Brick, would you come over here for a moment?"
Brick was still printing various documents from the computer when he heard Blossom call.
"Yes, your ugliness?"
"Will you stop calling me that? If you take one second off and look at the mirror, then you'll see who's the ugly one. Seriously though, I want you to take pictures of these two cups by the kitchen sink."
Brick only nodded as he took the pictures.
"And take the picture of the ash tray too. If you take a look, Brick, there are two butts of cigarettes unfinished over there," said Blossom.
Brick looked at it, observed it, took some notes, took some pictures of it, and went back to the computer and his printing.
D. Footprints
Boomer and Bubbles went outside to see what they could find. Boomer took a medium sized magnifying glass from his pocket using his right hand, but before he can bend to the ground to look for what he was looking for, a warm hand suddenly clutched his left hand.
"Huh?" he acted surprised. "Bubbles? What are you doing here?" he asked nervously.
"Oh Blossom did say to go with you while we search for clues! Oh boy! This is like Scooby Doo," Bubbles cheerily said.
Boomer shuddered and tried to pry his hand off Bubbles', but her iron grip was impossible for Boomer to get out of. He sighed, and though sweating and very uncomfortable with Bubbles so close, the ten-year-old boy simply bent down to look for what he was looking for, with a curious and happy Bubbles at his side.
'Girls,' Boomer sighed. 'I wonder. Did God put girls in this earth to torture boys?' he thought, though in the end, a smile was etched out in his face as he thought that Bubbles touching him might not be so bad. Though he still doesn't like her, or anyone else for that matter, touching him, he simply gave up trying to convince her not to touch him. Though among the three girls, he liked her best. With a sigh, he tried to ignore the distracting though very innocent girl besides him as he set about his work.
He began walking on the pavement, his eyes on the ground, looking for something, with Bubbles just besides him, clutching his left hand tightly with her right hand, while her left hand clutched her ankle-length dress. "What are you looking for?" she asked.
"Footprints," said Boomer as he bent down looking for what he was looking for. He at first found nothing, and he searched in vain, going through the lawn, yard, and pavement among throngs of police officers, followed closely at his side by Bubbles, who never released her grip on the blond boy. Boomer soon became s engrossed in what he was doing that he completely forgot about Bubbles.
Twenty minutes later, he still hasn't found anything—until he found faint footsteps in the grass. "Look, I think this is it!" said Boomer, pointing to bare identifiable marks on the grass.
"Boomie, I think I found—"
"No time for that, Bubbles! I'm on a scent!" said Boomer triumphantly.
"I don't think so! I think I saw the right trail—" Bubbles said.
"Shut up Bubbles! You're going to lead us to another wild goose chase! This is the track I've been looking for!" said Boomer triumphantly.
"Okay, but I warned you," said Bubbles, chirping and following though the muddy grass, still wet from the dew of the morning, causing hem of her dress to get dirty.
"Boomie, I think we better go to the sidewalk—" Bubbles suggested.
"Look Bubbles, I know your silly long dress is getting dirty, but we have to stay in the muddy grass, since this is where the trail is," said Boomer.
"But Boomie—"
"You should have worn jeans and pants like Buttercup! Dresses is only for silly girls! If you want to become manly, then dress like us!" said Boomer.
"For your information, I am a girl, and I like wearing dresses, I don't like wearing pants, and I'm not Buttercup! And I'm proud of it," said Bubbles, pouting. "You're the one who's silly, you know."
"What the—oh no! The footsteps disappeared!" said Boomer.
"Boomie, come to the sidewalk," said Bubbles, and she dragged Boomer with her.
"Okay," said a defeated Boomer, and allowed himself to be dragged.
"See," said Bubbles, pointing to a set of clear, muddy footprints leading to the house. "I told you to come to the sidewalk because I saw these footprints earlier, not because of my dress getting dirty."
Boomer couldn't believe he missed the elephant in the room. "How could I have missed it?" Boomer said. Boomer then quickly examined the footprints, and began to follow it.
"The murderer obviously—no, the suspect—walked on a muddy field or soil before coming here," said Boomer. "Let's follow it backwards, shall we? You see Bubbles, there, the mud and footprints disappeared!"
"But how?" asked a curious Bubbles.
"He most probably stepped from a car," said Boomer, as the footprints disappeared in front of the house at 27 Brixton Road.
"Oh," said Bubbles. "But how do you know it's a he?"
"The length and the distance between the footsteps indicates that he is about six feet tall, the same height as Kaczinsci and most police officers, don't you think? Plus, the pattern of the shoes he was wearing is that of a police officer's shoes, and as you know, in Townsville, the men and women officers have different patterns in the soles of their shoes, and the pattern here definitely is that of the shoes of a male police officer. Now let's go back and see where it leads."
Boomer and Bubbles then followed the footsteps toward Mr. Grulp's house. "Look, the footprints shows that he stepped on the border between his yard and the sidewalk, indicating that he didn't jump over the tall white picket fence, but rather opened it. Ah look, besides it, there are faint footprints," Boomer said excitedly as he took his digital camera from his pocket and photographed the new footprint. "It is not noticeable if you don't look at it too well, but it's visible. And see, the shoe pattern of the next set of footprints is the same."
"That meant that there was another man here," Bubbles added.
"Wanna try and see what could have happened?" asked Boomer.
"Well, it's obvious that the man stood here for a while, and smoked, since there are cigarette ashes here. Yes, both men stood here for a while, and then walked towards the house," Bubbles said.
"Very good, Bubbles! I never thought you'd have guessed that one," said Boomer.
Bubbles blushed.
"Now, both of them walked to the house. The footprints of the other one become clearer as we approach the house. Then they wiped their feet on the rug on the doormat. See Bubbles, there was mud all over the rug," said Boomer. They then entered. "And it is clearer because the mudprints were now fainter, and the second set of footprints completely disappeared. Now, following the footsteps, the man then went to the living room, then went to the kitchen," he said, entering the kitchen, running in to Buttercup, Blossom and Butch.
"Ah, two lovebirds," said Blossom, giggling, at the sight of Boomer with his body bent, his face near the floor with a magnifying glass, his left hand clutched tightly by Bubbles, while Bubbles too was in the same position, also looking at the floor.
"Oh shut up Blossom, he just won't let go of me," protested Boomer. "Anyway, at this point, about a few feet from the covered body, he stopped. Then, he turned around and walked out the door, then walked in the grass, and his trail disappeared amid the boots of the numerous policemen who stomped on it."
"Well, Boomer, Bubbles, what did you find following the footsteps?" asked Blossom.
"Well, I learned that one of the murderers probably has the interior of his car muddied from his boots, is male, a police officer, about six feet high, stopped his car at 27 Brixton Road, walked towards the house with a confederate, also a policeman, but whose boots are clean, opened the gate, smoked and stood for a few minutes at the gate before going to the door, opened the door, sat on the couch, went to the kitchen and shot Mr. Grulp," said Boomer.
"I think I know what happened," said Buttercup. "Those two broke in, pointed a gun at Mr. Grulp, forced him to serve them coffee and smoked cigarettes, then shot him at the back of his head."
"But why they hell would the murderers drink coffee before shooting Grulp? That doesn't making any sense," said Brick, who had finished printing all of Mr. Grulp's computer files.
"Yeah. Besides, I'm almost certain that two of the policemen who had an inverted V mark on his forehead were the one who shot him," said Butch. "Because only they would have the proper motivation for killing him. And if we know the former Chief, he wouldn't invite to his house anyone who has a V mark on his forehead, so it rules out him inviting his murderers out to tea at four in the morning. So it has to be a break-in."
"But there is absolutely no sign of a break-in whatsoever," said Blossom. "It might be possible for the murderer to have a key, but even with a key, it would be impossible to enter given the elaborate locks and barriers at the door that he would have to open from inside."
"Well, I have most of his private files printed," said Brick, pointing to a fat manila envelop filled with paper he was holding. "I'll study it first, then we might establish the identity of the murderer. And then we might get a confession."
Then, they heard Professor Utonium call them. "Kids, I think Chief Kaczinsci has figured out what happened. Come out, quick!"
Without a moment's hesitation, they went out.
E. Mr. Kaczinsci's Theory
Meanwhile…
"So what do you think, Kaczinsci? What do you think happened this morning?" asked the Professor.
"Well, all the police officers have been gathering evidence all morning, and we have come to a conclusion," said the Chief.
"Well? Off with it, Man!" Dr. Edwards insisted.
"Edwards, Utonium, Grulp—"
"Wait! I think the kids need to hear of this," said the Professor, then shouted for the kids. "Kids, I think Chief Kaczinsci has figured out what happened. Come out, quick!"
The six then zoomed in front of the six men. After the kids left, the police went back into the house.
"Well?" asked Blossom.
"It was suicide," said Kaczinsci.
"Ha? How did you come to that conclusion?" asked a sceptical Blossom. "All evidence points out that that isn't the case."
"Well, there obviously weren't any break-in's," said Kaczinsci, "so how did the murderer enter? Answer—there was no murderer, and he killed himself."
"Yeah, good point," said Buttercup, "but how about all the evidence pointing it being murder than suicide?"
"Well, the evidence for murder is less compelling than the ones for suicide. Think of it! The only way a murderer can enter the house if for Mr. Grulp to open the house himself. And even if that happened, how is it that when we Hoefel arrived, he needed to force open a door that has been locked from the inside? Really! If the murderer had been invited in, how the hell, when he left, could he have locked the door from inside? Don't tell me he can walk through walls," Kaczinsci explained.
"But sir—" Blossom began, but before she could continue, a policeman run outside clutching two pieces of white paper in his hands.
"Sir, I think I found something," said a policeman about six feet tall, with very muddy boots, Blossom observed. "I think, sir, it's a suicide note. I found it in the file box besides the computer."
Kaczinsci grabbed the papers and read it. "That's Officer Bobby Grundy. Well, so much for your theory that it was murder, not suicide. Here, read this."
Blossom grabbed the paper while others looked at it.
It read,
July 16
Dear Marianne,
Today, I decided to end my life. I was devastated that I was fired from my job. I love being a police officer, and I love leading the fine officers of our City's police force.
Yet I am out of my job, and worse, I was fired. And then it seems to me that the police force I came to serve has changed for the worse, especially with those inverted V marks on their heads.
Take care. I have left enough money for you and the children. Send my love to John and Susan.
It's now time for me to go. Sorry for taking the cowards way out. I'm going to shoot myself in the head.
Love,
(signed)
Alexander Grulp
It was printed and encoded in a computer, had a font of about 12, Times New Roman, and has a HP as its ink, printed in a HP SC 1315 printer.
"No, it can't be! This means nothing! Its murder, I tell you, bloody murder!" Butch ranted. "It's in the V sign, you see? You're all guilty of either murder or cover-up, you hear? Murder or cover-up."
"Butch, shut-up!" said Blossom. "You're embarrassing us!"
"Be damned and go to hell! I won't shut-up! Can't you see, they're covering it all up! You're letting them get away with murder!" Butch said, and nearly assaulted Mr. Kaczinsci.
Luckily, he was restrained by both his brothers. "Brick, Boomer, restrain him!" Blossom ordered.
"Butch, stop this right this minute!" his father demanded, shouting at his black haired son.
Butch calmed down as his father shouted, but he sported a bitter look on his face.
"Well, we'll go now," said the Professor and Dr. Edwards. "Unless you kids have forgot something here?"
All of them shook their heads.
"Well, I'm glad that you're on top of things, Kaczinsci," said the Professor.
Soon, a group of reporters and media personnel mobbed the Powerpuff Girls. "Do you have any idea what happened to Mr. Grulp? Do you agree with Mr. Kaczinsci's assertion that he committed suicide?"
Blossom cleared her throat. "Yes, I agree with him. All evidence that we have found now points to suicide, and we have no reason to believe otherwise," said Blossom.
The other kids and the adults were bewildered at Blossom's statement.
"What, why did you—" Butch began, shouting, but Boomer and Brick quickly grabbed him, and covered his mouth with his hand.
"I think I know what she's up to," Brick whispered. "Don't worry."
Butch calmed down a bit, and they all went to Dr. Edwards house without incident. Dr. Edwards went to his office, telling his kids to keep up the good work, while the Professor also congratulated him before returning to his job at the University.
G. Examining the Suicide Note
"What the hell were you thinking?" Butch shouted to Blossom when they returned home. "For someone as smart as you, you'd know that it's not really suicide, but murder! Just look at the bullet hole on the back of his head, instead of at the temple or at the mouth! What kind of idiot would try to commit suicide by shooting himself at the back of his head? You shoot yourself using a gun either on your temple or on your mouth, but not, for crying out loud, on the back!"
"I know," said Blossom. "Yours, and every other available evidence contradict the note. No, I don't believe its suicide. It's murder."
"Then why'd you tell the whole world that we believe its suicide when it's clearly not so?" asked Bubbles.
"Because, if we make it look like we bought it, then the murderer would drop his guard, and wouldn't suspect that we were on to him. If we told that we think it was murder, then he would be very guarded in his actions, and it would make it very difficult for us to catch him."
A chorus of ahs and ums as they found out Blossom's plan. That is, except Brick, who knew all along what Blossom was thinking. It was dishonest to the public, but as they all know, truth can wait until it was safe to tell it to the public.
"But if it was murder, then how'd you explain the suicide note?" asked Bubbles.
"Well, it's bogus. You see, first of all, I rifled through all the files in the file box besides the computer, and I mean all, and let me tell you, not once, not once, did I find that note. I tell you, that note just magically appeared the minute we left that house and those officers entered it!" Brick sarcastically said. "No, it was planted to throw us off the scent."
"Plus, if you don't believe that," Brick continued, pulling out a couple of pieces of paper from the manila envelop, "these are some documents that I took from the file box. Now, those documents are the ones that I found, and notice that the paper used in all these documents were of lesser quality than that of the one used in the suicide note. Plus, the ink used in his documents was inkjet, and a BJ Canon printer. What does that mean? It meant that the suicide note, which was supposedly printed that night in his computer, was printed on a different printer on a different computer. And to add to it all, I searched his drive C and D, and all his floppy disks, and not once did I find a suicide note, or anything else, saved. If you want proof, here, I used printscreen to copy-paste his windows, and you can see that there were no such documents," Brick explained. "So in conclusion, then we can say that the suicide note was forged! And by a policeman at that! How do I know? Simple. It was planted by one of the policemen who went to the house after we were called out by the Professor."
"So we find the forger, and most likely, we find the murderer," asked Buttercup.
"Most likely," said Blossom. She then whispered something in Brick's ear. "Got it, Brick?"
"Yup! See 'ya later," he said, before leaving.
"Where is he going?" asked Blossom.
"Oh he's on some errand," said Blossom. "If my hunch is correct, and he does the errand competently, then we will know who our culprit is tonight."
"What's the errand?" asked Boomer.
"You'll see, you'll see," said a smiling Blossom. "I think we should wait before we have more discussions on this point."
"But we still have to know how the murderer got in?" asked Butch. "After all, all the doors were locked, and there was no sign of forced entry."
"Yes, that is a problem, but I believe that we'll get an answer to that soon," said Blossom confidently.
H. The Final Pieces
So the kids then entertained themselves while they waited for Brick to arrive. Boomer and Butch played poker, while Bubbles finally released Boomer from her iron grip. Blossom just paced on the floor, thinking hard, while Buttercup and Bubbles had a shouting match about Bubbles being too 'girly' and Buttercup being too 'tomboyish' with respect with each other's clothes. After half an hour, Ms. Lawrence, who had spent the time when the kids arrived at the kitchen cooking the enormous lunch she knew the boys needed.
After lunch, Ms. Lawrence forced the boys to wash the dishes, resulting in not a few broken plates, while the girls did a fine job cleaning the rest of the kitchen, while the housekeeper herself began making lists for the next grocery shopping, all the while talking about the case.
After the chores, Butch was for some reason agitated and he began pacing in the living room. Boomer asked what's wrong, but he just told Boomer that he was anxious about the case, and made another rant about the inverted V mark. Boomer then wandered towards the table where the documents that Brick earlier took and which Blossom was now studying. He noticed a couple of handwritten notes on the pile on the mountain of the almost printed material.
"That's strange," Boomer said, more to himself than to anyone else, looking at the notes.
"What's strange?" asked Blossom, who heard Boomer's comment.
"I think Brick missed it. Notice anything peculiar about the handwriting?" asked Boomer.
"No," said Blossom.
"Well, judging by the style, it was written by the left hand, and that meant that he was left handed," said Boomer.
"How do you know?" asked Blossom.
"Well, I have an eye for these things," said Boomer. "Dad thought me these. Brick doesn't know it, and neither does Butch, but I do."
"And what if he's left handed?" asked Blossom.
"Well, then why did he had his gun at his right hand? If he was going to commit suicide, don't you think he'd use his left hand?" said Boomer.
"Well, that's another nail to the coffin to the theory of suicide," said Blossom. "I think we can rule out suicide. And I think I've solved the problem of the doors not being forced open."
"You did?"
"Yup, but I want to wait for Brick. I want all of us, including your father and the Professor, to be here when I explain it all," said Blossom. "And all it needs is confirmation from Brick."
Boomer then went to Butch, and told him nothing he heard from Blossom. But he invited Butch to another poker game. Butch refused, so he invited Buttercup and Bubbles to gamble, but Blossom got wind of it and gave a long tedious speech on the evils of gambling. Bubbles then suggested to Boomer to go to another room where the two can play in peace, but Boomer—being more afraid of being alone with Bubbles than with being bored—refused. He then challenged Blossom to a game of chess. However, even though he was quite intelligent, Boomer, unlike Brick, had almost no strategic and tactical sense, and Blossom quite easily cleaned his clock thirteen straight times. He challenged Butch to another game of poker, which he accepted. The game was a wash, since both were lucky and only about thirteen cents changed hands. During the game, Blossom again began her lecture about gambling, which so annoyed the boys that they threatened to tie her up and gag her if she didn't stop. Blossom, who knows the seriousness of the threat of being tied-up, relented, but the boys got bored anyway and spent the rest of the hot summer afternoon swimming in the lake.
Bubbles spent the first part of the afternoon watching cartoons from the DVD collection of the house, but she soon got bored as most of them were violent. She tried to play with Blossom, but she was too busy thinking, while Buttercup was enjoying the violence on TV. She tried looking for the boys, but can't find them in the house, so she decided to take an afternoon nap.
A few minutes after Bubbles fell asleep, Brick finally returned. He had a look of triumph in his face. He had another manila envelop in his hands filled with papers.
"So?"
"Well, what?" asked Blossom impatiently.
"Well, I broke into his house—"
"What, you broke in? That's illegal!"
"Hey, at least it's better than letting the Professor steal toys in a toy store while he was sleepwalking," Brick retorted. "There was no one home. I immediately went into his computer, and look what I found out. The suicide note was saved in his computer, in the My Documents folder, and it was last saved the other day. Plus, the signature of Mr. Grulp was scanned and copied and pasted on the document. What's more delicious about this, is in the same folder as the suicide note, is Mr. Grulp's resignation letter, the same letter that Ms. Bellum showed to us to prove that he resigned rather than was fired. And I printed it too. If you compared it to the letter handed to us by Ms. Bellum, it is identical. Plus the fact that when I checked it, and I print-screened it here, that it was last saved on July 8, two days before Grulp was fired and he complained to us. Which meant that he planned it all along."
"But was Ms. Bellum actually involved in all of this?" asked Blossom. "Maybe she never knew these letters were forgeries?"
"I don't know. We still don't have enough information on it yet, but, if the reason for Mr. Grulp's murder is the story he told us a couple of days ago, then she might be very well be involved. I think this murder damages her considerably," Brick said. "Anyway, the paper, ink, and printer used in that house was the same as that of on the suicide note, and different from those of Mr. Grulp's house. All indicating not only murder, but cover-up that could reach into the highest levels of government."
"Well, I now know what happened," said Blossom.
"Really, then please tell me," said Brick. "After all, it is expected that you have figured it out, since even though you are the ugliest girl in the world, but you're not stupid."
"Ha, calling me ugly is like the pot calling the kettle black! And you must be blind since it's all clear to the world that I'm the most beautiful and attractive ten-year-old girl in the world! And the smartest too!"
"Well, if you're beautiful, then hippopotamuses are the thinnest animals in the world, and slugs are faster than rabbits, and the Mojo Jojo is a competent villain," replied Brick. "But anyway, what do you think happened? I also know what happened, but I want to know if our narrative would be the same or different."
"I think that it would be the same," said Blossom, "since we all saw the same evidence and all had the same information on it. Anyway, I'm not telling anybody until the Professor and the Doctor arrives."
"Let me have a guess," said Brick, and he then told her his version of events. And to her amazement, it was quite identical to her reconstruction of events—from who actually killed Mr. Grulp, to how the murderer entered the house, and who forged the documents. Since Blossom was the leader, Brick agreed to let her present the case.
A few hours later, about an hour before sunset, Dr. Edwards and Professor Utonium arrived, and Ms. Lawrence was also listening.
The kids were now ready to present the case to the adults. They were seated on the couch, while the kids sat besides them. Blossom was in the center, ready to speak.
"Before I tell you what happened, I think I'll let you know who I think the murderer is and who is the forger of the suicide note. Remember, this is all backed by evidence," said Blossom. She then took a piece of paper, wrote a couple of names, and passed it on to the others, who, except for Brick, were shocked and astonished as they read the names.
