"- well, y'see, it wasn't really a murder. For sure, I mean. He could have died from natural causes - NATURAL CAUSES, I SAID. But we don't think he did. You should - I SAID WE DON'T THINK HE DIED FROM NATURAL CAUSES. If you could send somebody over to 1334 North Beechwood Drive... yeah, in Malibu - MALIBU. M-A... um, L-I-B-O-O. Yeah, that would be great, thank you."
Peter hung up the phone and turned to face the other boys, who were nervously leaning against the spiral staircase, "I think she needed a hearing-ear dog."
"What?" Micky made the mistake of asking, then waved his hands in the air vigorously, "Never mind, never mind, I don't wanna know. What time will the cops get here?"
"Um, I think she said they'd be here within the hour. Or maybe it was outside the hour. The perimeter of an hour? Area. I can't remember now. Sorry, Mick," Peter said with a sheepish grin. Micky rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself.
"Hey, man, it's fine. You were focusing on getting through to her. But what do we do now, just wait?"
Mike shrugged and sat down at the kitchen table, "I guess so."
"I hate waiting," Micky muttered, plopping himself into the chair next to Mike. Davy, who had been silent during the whole course of the conversation, laughed and crossed his arms.
"And the award for 'understatement of the year' goes to Micky Dolenz!" he announced with a smile.
Now, since I wouldn't dream of making Micky wait...
An hour later, there was a knock on the door, which Peter went to open, after peeking out to see who it was. A red-haired man in a gray suit strolled into the pad, a friendly expression on his face.
"Hullo there. This is 1334 North Beechwood, yes? I'm Hector Patterson, but it's Inspector Patterson to you. Where's the body?"
All four boys broke into tiny flurries of giggles, much to the irritation of the Inspector. He adopted an unamused look and crossed his arms, sighing, "Yes, my name is Hector. If you must, call me Inspector Hector, but please don't burst out laughing each time you say it. Will that make you happy? Now, show me where this Mr. Webster is, please. I've got a job to do."
"Alright, Inspector Hector! Step right this way for the main attraction!" Micky crowed, hopping over to the Inspector and grabbing his wrist. He led the other man into the bathroom, where Mr. Webster lay in a heap on the floor.
Inspector Patterson raised a suspicious eyebrow, "This is where he kicked the bucket?"
"Uh, no, officer, inspector, sir. 'e croaked over by the door," Davy piped up, and the Inspector seemed to notice him for the first time.
"And who are you, then? Come to think of it, who the devil are any of you?"
Peter pointed to Micky, "That's Davy, and he's Micky, and he's Peter, and I'm Mike. No, wait a minute. That's Micky, and he's Davy, and he's Mike, and I'm Peter," he said, a proud smile lighting up his face. Inspector Patterson snorted derisively.
"Sure, kid, and the cow jumped over the moon. Who are you, really?"
"Well, Inspector, he just told you who we all are. Man, don't you trust anybody?" Mike asked, wondering how someone could get to be so wary of other people. The Inspector shook his head.
"It's my business not to trust people. Let's see... you must have touched the body, then?"
Mike, Micky, and Peter exchanged worried looks, while Davy grinned smugly. He hadn't been foolish enough to lay a hand on Mr. Webster, but they had. Micky cleared his throat, which didn't help one bit, as his voice still squeaked when he spoke.
"Uh, we m-might have. Is that a problem?"
Inspector Hector sighed, "It could be, eventually. That means you're all currently suspects, and I'll have to ask each of you for your fingerprints."
"I've always wanted a star in Hollywood," Peter mused.
"Are you gonna arrest us? Will we have to stay in a jail cell? Ooooh, are you going to interrogate us?" Micky asked excitedly, his eyes shining. The Inspector merely glared at him, rolled his eyes, then dropped to his knees and looked over Mr. Webster.
"If went to jail, at least we'd 'ave three square meals a day and a permanent roof over our 'eads," muttered Davy, who was paying close attention to what the Inspector was doing.
"Oh, yeah, it would seem like paradise compared to here, in our groovy little pad. Who needs freedom?" Mike remarked sarcastically, while thinking to himself, has Davy completely lost it or something? We've been doin' pretty good for ourselves as of late...
"I don't want to go to jail, Mike," Peter whimpered. He gave Mike his very best puppy-dog eyes, silently pleading with the Texan to keep him away from any jail cells. Mike nodded reassuringly, but said nothing.
"Relax, nobody is going anywhere. At least, not yet. Er, if you'd all take a seat in the living room, and let me poke around...?"
The four boys obediently filed out of the bathroom, leaving Inspector Patterson with the body. They collapsed upon the couch and began to chatter in hushed voices, not wishing to disturb, or be overheard by, the Inspector.
Mike was all for coming clean, but Davy and Micky just couldn't bring themselves to do so. Peter, for the most part, kept his mouth shut, only intervening when he thought the debate was becoming too heated.
"But, listen! If we tell him all about everythin', then he'll know we aren't tryin' to hide stuff from him. If he finds it out later, he might be a lot more suspicious. We'd only be makin' it easier for us later on by tellin' him," Mike argued. Davy shrugged, and Micky's curls bounced around his head as he shook it violently.
"No way, babe. You can incriminate yourself if you want to, but I'd rather not risk it. At least give it some time. He may find evidence that points him to someone else before he finds any that leads him to us."
"I'm with Micky," said Davy, picking at a tear in the couch. He was merely using it as an excuse so that he wouldn't have to look at Mike. He knew that if he did look, he wouldn't be able to disagree with the wool-hat-wearing boy.
Peter sighed and, after a lengthy pause, began to speak, forgetting to keep his voice down low, "Look, I know you guys are worried that you'll be falsely accused and all that, but if you're innocent, then you shouldn't be. Inspector," here he smiled amusedly, then continued, "Inspector Patterson probably isn't as dumb as you think he is - take it from someone who knows. Let him investigate, and I'm sure that he'll find the murderer in due time, if there even is one."
Before anyone could respond, the Inspector called to them from where he stood in the doorway of the bathroom, "And why should you be worried about false accusations?"
Hi, there, you who have read this :) I won't have the next chapter up for a little while, since I've got some catchin' up to do in school, but don't worry, I'll keep plugging away. Peace!