December 1971, Friday 24th: Christmas Eve and Cabin Fever

With the roster that he had worked out with Healy and Lessing, Mike felt mildly confident that there was a chance to get through the next few days.

After lunch he even found the opportunity to ring the morgue and ask about a detailed post mortem report on the homicide that had happened on Tuesday. Seems like a lifetime ago Mike thought as he waited for someone to pick up the phone.

"Post- mortem reports? You must be joking, Mike! Are you aware that your boy must have visited us right before he got sick and shared his bug with us? I'm the only one left, but I'm hoping to resume normal services after Christmas," Bernie ranted.

Mike reluctantly rang Haseejian at home to get some more information on the murder. After all, he never had a chance to complete the report and the last thing Mike wanted to do was waste his sparse resources on duplicating what had already be done. Norm readily filled Mike in and promised to write the report at home. "If it wasn't for this quarantine thing I'd be back tomorrow," he assured Mike.

Yes, things were definitely looking up. Maybe he could even get Steve's account of the interviews that he had conducted. Maybe I should bring a decent typewriter and a ream of paper home over Christmas …


When Mike entered his living room late in the afternoon, he was moved by the homely scene he saw. Irene and Jeannie were sprawled on the carpet, engrossed in a board game, obviously having great fun. Steve stretched out on the sofa, face hidden behind a magazine. He felt almost left out, when nobody immediately acknowledged his presence.

"Hi honeys, I'm home!" he called out cheerfully.

At least the two ladies looked up from their game now and appeared suitably happy to see him. He noted with delight that Jeannie seemed to have bounced back from her bout of illness incredibly fast and Irene, even though still looking a bit off-color was lively and well.

"Only Steve here is still malingering," Jeannie informed her father, nose scrunched up with disgust.

Mike was bewildered that his normally patient and caring daughter could express such a critical opinion on a fellow suffer.

"If he just did what we told him to do all day, he would be much better now, like myself and Irene here." She sounded a tad smug.

The look Mike got from Irene was definitely of the "I HAD THEM ALL DAY NOW IT'S YOUR TURN" type.

Self-righteously, Jeannie continued, "He won't eat and he won't drink. How is he supposed to get any better? And then he deliberately went broke at Monopoly so he could go and lie on the couch again!"

Definitely an acute case of Cabin Fever, which must have taken its toll on his daughter's good nature.

Steve glanced at him from under the magazine.

"I'm happy to see that you two have recovered so well," Mike winked at his daughter. "Don't worry about Steve, I'll sort him out!" He winked at Steve too and in a mock stern voice told him, "Now, you better come next door with me, young man. I have a bone to pick with you!"

Steve scrambled up from his horizontal position and bestowed a look of pure gratitude and relief on his rescuer. In the spare room he threw himself on the bed and pressed his face into the pillow. "That bad?" Mike commiserated.

The only answer he got was a vigorous nod of a half hidden head. Then the muffled voice of his partner came out through the feathers. "I have changed my view on polygamy. No man should have to cope with more than one woman at a time. "

Mike suppressed a laugh and put on his best sympathetic voice. "After the ordeal of the day you must be exhausted, and I had hoped to get a bit of help from you with a case later on!"

Steve revived immediately and turned around. "Anything, Mike, I'd do anything at all to escape the nagging and boredom. It was either reading one of Jeannie's magazines or playing Monopoly. And you know how Monopoly goes against the very grain of my liberal views." He chuckled. "Who knows, the article I read on how to keep your cuticles supple might come in handy someday." Then he sighed. "I suppose Jeannie and Irene were meaning well, but it is almost sickening to see them so chirpy…"

Mike tried to keep a straight face as he listened to the young man's tale of woes. From an untouched plate on the bedside table he kept handing Steve crackers that the patient absentmindedly nibbled. "There now, you have eaten them all! I'll bring you a cup of tea in a minute and after you've had a bit of a rest, we'll discuss the case!" Mike exclaimed.

Steve nodded sleepily. "Maybe I should apologize to Jeannie and Irene for being so stubborn and grumpy."

"Well, maybe that would be a good idea, it being Christmas and all… You know, peace and goodwill to all men…"

"And women!" Steve added before he dropped off to sleep.

Mike came out of the room with a grim expression on his face. "Now, sweetheart, he won't be hassling you again. I gave the young cad a piece of my mind!"

Jeannie looked at him, blue eyes wide with disbelieve. "Oh Mike, how could you! He's sick and feeling miserable and it's not really his fault that he's been difficult." She covered her mouth. "Oh! You didn't really, did you?" She giggled. "I suppose I should tell him I'm sorry for being so unkind and unsympathetic!"

Mike and Irene exchanged a glance.

"Come to think of it, maybe it would be a nice thing to do!" Mike said innocently.

He rubbed his hands. "Now, will we do the tree before or after we've eaten?"