The Conundrum by the Coast

The Conundrum by the Coast

The grand lighthouse that stood off the coast of Connecticut was a sight to behold with its snow white exterior, blood red roof, and such a monstrous height that made you uneasy when you looked up at it. Tonight just happened to be the 100th anniversary of the beautiful structure, and the entire state was flocking to the coast to commemorate the anniversary of the state's beloved treasure. Thousands of people attended the grand gala, including one man, named Marlin Blackwell, who was the keeper of the lighthouse. Marlin was a retired detective, who had spent years with the FBI, police, and as a private eye. Age got to him however, and he retired and remained in the place where his heart had stood his whole life, that grand old lighthouse. The massive crowds that showed up pleased Marlin. He was glad to see all the folk that appreciated the old house as much as he did.

Marlin went out to the crowds and made an appearance. He sauntered across the party grounds, picking up and eating the occasional hors d'oeuvres that were out for all to enjoy. Kids were playing, people were talking and laughing and everything was perfect. It was all going just as he had hoped.

A boy of about sixteen suddenly dashed through the crowds. He ran so fast that he knocked people over in his haste. He looked angry, as if he was about to club someone in the head. Marlin and the rest of the crowd stood confused but soon shrugged it off and continued the festivities. But Marlin was not at ease. This running boy intrigued him, and got him thinking. Maybe it was just years of FBI work waning on him, but he suspected something was wrong. 

Marlin never thought on an empty stomach, and there was no better food for him to think on than a massive juicy steak. As if on cue, he found a food stand where the local butcher was making steaks. “One steak, my good man,” said Marlin. The butcher grunted and went to get a steak out of a massive smoker. He took out a massive knife and sliced up the steak. He looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but there. Marlin paid the man, and headed off toward his house beside the lighthouse. 

He puzzled over the night’s events so far. The cranky butcher and the running boy all did not seem right. But nothing had been conclusively wrong, just a short compilation of brief suspicious acts. He took a bite of his steak, but it was absolutely burnt. He spit it out without thinking and spewed burnt steak chunks all over his freshly polished floor. Angrily, he snapped up and began to march toward the butcher’s stand. But the moment he reached the stand, it was gone. Not a trace of the butcher ever being there remained. Something was definitely not right.

Marlin threw away the rest of his steak and sauntered back to his house. The night's events had struck something inside his old self that brought back the old energetic feelings of his FBI days.

But then something struck him. What if he was overreacting? What if the butcher was just going home for the night, and what if the running boy had just been chasing his brother? Maybe he was just overreacting after all. As much as he hated to accept most likely being incorrect, he stood up, went outside, and enjoyed the party like everyone else in attendance. 

The night went on, and the midnight firework show was about to begin. Dazzling displays of the red, blue, green, yellow, and purple fireworks danced across the sky, making loud crackling noises and humongous booms that reached immense decibels. Marlin had to admit, it was quite the show.

As Marlin gazed up into the sky, there was a sudden whoosh coming from straight behind him. He turned. It was the running boy! He was running after no apparent person and was so fast that no one there could possibly catch him. He was gone into the darkness in an instant, and once again the people murmured and wondered just what on earth this boy meant. Though the people knew of the suspicious boy, Marlin may well have been the only to know of the butcher.

After the fireworks, the crowd thinned out and people went home. Aside from the strangeness of the night, it was a pretty good party. Marlin retired to his bed for the night, thinking and dreaming of what had just happened all night.

The very next morning, Marlin awoke to a bright and sunny day. It was beautiful outside, or at least that is what he could see from his bed. Sunday was the day for Marlin to stay in bed, but he was craving coffee heavily at the same time. Eventually he gave in and rose and stumbled to the coffee pot.

The dark roast blend he had prepared looked exceptional. He picked up the piping hot pot and poured the blend into his mug. He sipped quietly, listening to the sounds of the morning, the breeze through the window, the birds chirping, the waves crashing to shore, the occasional horn of a passing boat. A perfect morning in his opinion.

Until, it was not. Marlin opened his front door to step outside into the fresh air. He looked out onto the coastline, but was met with the sight of a dead body.

Marlin immediately threw his coffee cup into the sand and dashed out to the corpse. It was a middle aged man with glasses and a short beard. He wore a white coat, and unusually short shorts. Marlin scanned all over the man for a sign of death, but none could be found. Until the last place he looked. On the man’s ankle was a bright blood red gash. Blood was everywhere and a large line all around his leg could be seen. Marlin questioned himself on how he did not initially see this. Must have been the old age and deteriorating skills. However, Marlin was still strong in his deducing.

The pieces to the puzzle began to come together. Or so he thought. The clues were so vague that he was attempting to make the clues match the theories. His initial thought was that the butcher had done this, and had disappeared to take this man out. But why? Why did he do it? What was the motive behind taking down this man?

Marlin did the one thing that he first thought to do. He was going to get this man an examination to determine the cause of death. This was a private investigation, and if Marlin was caught with a dead body in his car, well, he was not sure what to say.

Marlin nearly forgot about the man in the week that passed while testing was being done. But once the testing was done, he was right back into detective mode, hoping to bring the criminal to justice. And the test results could not have shocked him more. There was poison in the results.

On top of the enormous gash on his leg, this man had been poisoned as well. Someone really wanted this man gone. The reason? That was beyond Marlin.

The clues he had to work with were so vague and so few that Marlin had no idea what to possibly do. The nagging feeling inside of him would never let a case go unsolved. But with so little information and data, he was out of options it seemed. He called the examination doctors and asked for any additional information they may have not submitted to him. “Yes, hello. I was wondering if perhaps the form I received about the autopsy was incomplete and there was more necessary information needed to find the cause of death.” There was a silence, and then “Absolutely sir. We will go talk to the doctor.” Marlin listened to possibly the worst hold music in the history of the world, and after five minutes was met by the doctor’s voice. “Is this Mr. Blackwell?” “The very one,” replied Marlin. “Very good. So, you have requested additional information about the death of this man, no?” “Indeed,” “Well, the only additional information I have for you is that the poison is actually venom. I have forgotten to mention this in the report, forgive me.” Marlin was pleased. He hung up with the doctor. He had resolved the mystery in his head as fast as the man said venom. The butcher and running boy had absolutely nothing to do with the case.

Marlin went to his wall of books. He took one out called, “Killers of the Atlantic” He flipped to the jellyfish section and was greeted by the world’s deadliest aquatic killer. The box jellyfish. In the book there were pictures of how the marks and injuries appeared on a human. It was an exact match. Marlin knew all too well of box jellyfish. They appeared every so often as washed up blobs of killer venom on the beach. 

And then something else struck him. The man was wearing a white lab coat. And super short shorts. This man was a marine scientist. He must have been attempting to study ocean life and was greeted by the box jellyfish, instead.

Though Marlin was not satisfied with not knowing what happened with the butcher and running boy, he was at least satisfied to know that it was not a human that had taken the life of the man, but a ferocious tiny jellyfish, instead.