6

Driving up the winding, dirt road, Columbo squinted through the headlights of his car, trying to make out any shapes in the darkness of the ranch; sprawling acres of land as far as they were wide. But if he could pinpoint one farmhouse, one building…maybe, he hoped to God, if there was one, that Dog was in there, and that he was alive.

Finally, after hours of driving, he spotted it. A lone, abandoned barn, sitting by itself on the edge of a great field. And next to that…an abandoned Pig Sty.

Driving up the long driveway and turning off the engine, Columbo unbuckled his seatbelt to step out of the car. But before he did, he stopped, shooting a glance at the glove compartment.

Hesitating for only a moment, he reached over and opened it before grabbing his gun and putting it in the pocket of his jacket.

Columbo entered the barn through the double front doors, walking slowly and trying to be acutely aware of his surroundings.

"Dog?! Dog?" He cried out into the barn. At first, there was only silence. But then…

He heard a bark; that familiar, obnoxious bark…a noise he never thought he'd be so happy to hear again. It was coming from somewhere within the dark barn.

"Dog! Come to me, boy! Come to me!" Columbo exclaimed, relieved. But his gut was niggling at him again; something just wasn't quite right here. It was too easy…too simple.

Columbo took out his cigar lighter. It provided poor illumination in the pitch-black barn, but it was better than nothing.

"Where are you, boy?" Columbo asked into the darkness. Of course, he knew Dog couldn't answer, but he thought maybe if Dog followed the sound of his voice…

But instead, another voice interrupted the darkness, and a small flash of light illuminated forth from a lantern.

"Hello, Lieutenant." Said Mrs. Peck, as she sat in the corner of the barn, a lit flashlight by her feet, and in one of her hands, was the leash holding….

"Dog! You're all right!" Columbo shouted excitedly with a smile, forgetting for the moment who else was in this room with him. But he was so relieved, even for just a few seconds, he didn't have a worry in the world. And if he had been alone, he surely would have been reduced to tears of joy.

Dog, upon hearing his master's loving, familiar voice, began wagging his tail happily, to which Mrs. Peck responded by giving a firm yank on the leash to quiet him.

Dog gave a small whine as she did, and then Columbo's determination returned to him, that fierce, incorruptibility that had taken hold of him back at her house…

It came back in full force.

"Mrs. Peck…I know why you did this…and I know why you hate me…and you have every reason to hate me for what I did….but I'm here for my dog….and I won't be leaving without him."

"You're right, Lieutenant…from the moment you entered that house...I've hated you. And over the last few years…I've grown to despise you. You turned Mr. Paris's immaculate home completely upside down! All of my thankless work, my tireless cleaning and years of upkeep…all ruined, because of you! But all of that I could forgive, except for what you did after…that's why I did this, Lieutenant. Not the mess…but the arrest."

"The arrest, ma'am? I don't understand…those boys-"

"Those boys would never do such a thing! I said it to you then, and I will keep saying it until the day I die! You had them falsely accused them of murder! And with the conviction, you ruined their lives…and my own!"

"Ma'am…. I'm terribly sorry. I know how much the Twins meant to you…I know they were like sons to you….but the evidence was all against them. One of the brothers confessed to it that day when we were all in the basement. Don't you remember that?"

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Mrs. Peck cried with as much fury as she had those years ago, in fact, perhaps even more so. It was so loud, it made Columbo jump a little in surprise; after all these years, her shrill, angry voice still terrified him, of course…he would never admit it.

In fact, this outburst was enough to make Columbo take out his gun from his pocket on instinct, however, his hands were shaking so badly, he dropped the gun. And Mrs. Peck, with surprising speed for her age, darted down and snatched it from the barn floor. She then pointed the gun at Dog, who was blissfully unaware of the danger he was in, though he whined as soon as he sensed his master's discomfort

"No!" Columbo shouted, but it was too late. The gun was in her hands, and there was little he could do about it now.

"I don't believe it!" She repeated.

"You…you coerced them into a confession! I know you did! They weren't my sons, but they were my boys! And you took them away from me! And now…Lieutenant, now it's time for something to be taken away from you…it's only fair after everything you did! And don't you dare try to tell me it isn't!" Mrs. Peck shrieked, still pointing the gun at Dog.

If Columbo looked hard enough, he could see a couple of tears trickling down her wrinkled cheeks.

"No ma'am…I won't tell you that…because….because you're right. It is fair." He said while taking a few careful steps towards Mrs. Peck, before looking at her with the most sincere and genuine look of guilt he had ever expressed in his life.

"I made such a mess of things from the minute I entered your house…I was so untidy and impolite…I wouldn't blame you or anyone in your position for hating me. Hell, if I were you, I would hate me too! And…and I can't tell you how sorry I am, just like I said to you that day in the kitchen…I'm sorry about your floor…I'm sorry about your television set…and…and I'm sorry for arresting the twins….but I was only doing my job, ma'am. You have to understand that. I don't always take pleasure in it…but I have to do it. Just…please…if you're going to punish anyone…punish me…it was my fault…but don't hurt my dog. Please, Mrs. Peck. He's a good dog…and he didn't do anything wrong."

For a moment, it seemed as though his words might have reached her, perhaps even changed her. Columbo watched as the old woman's face briefly flickered with compassion, the kind that all people inherently have for animals. But just like the flame of his lighter, that spark of compassion was quickly blown out.

"No…you're…you're trying to trick me! Just like you tricked them!" She cried before pointing the barrel of the gun at Dog, who was still unaware of his predicament, and perhaps it was just as well that he didn't know. Columbo did not want Dog to suffer if he had to suffer at all.

"Ma'am, please. Don't…don't do this…you're a generous, kind, compassionate woman…and you don't want to kill an innocent animal. I know you don't."

"Oh, but I do, Lieutenant…it's the only way. Don't you see? I led you here because I wanted you to watch it happen…I wanted you to watch as I take this dog away from you. It's your comeuppance, Lieutenant! And I've waited too long for it…"

Columbo tried to take a few steps towards Mrs. Peck, but upon doing so, she pointed the gun even closer to Dog, so that the barrel was now resting on his head. His desperate, panicked expression faded and was now replaced with something else.

Pure disdain.

"Mrs. Peck…I once told you that you were an unfair person…that you were the kind of person who didn't care about other people's feelings. But I can see now that I'm wrong…you're not unfair."

He paused...if only to hammer down the weight of his words.

"I take back what I said just now. You're not kind or compassionate at all. In fact, you're the most mean-spirited person I've ever met…and I've met a lot of murderers in this job. But I'd rather spend another day with any one of them…than ever see you again."

At this. Mrs. Peck seethed with anger, more than Columbo had ever seen her before. After all of the angry words she had thrown at him during the case, none of that came even close to the anger he saw burning in her eyes now.

"But that's where you're wrong, Lieutenant. I am compassionate. I'll show you…it'll be quick and painless…just watch and see!" She exclaimed, now glowering as she cocked the gun.

"No! Please, don't!" Columbo exclaimed as he moved towards her.

BANG!

As the haze of gun smoke cleared, he saw Mrs. Peck grinning at him madly from the darkness of the barn.