Having a dog has its cons. Zeus, my Greyhound, woke me up with his repulsive barking at five in the morning. The sun was still sleeping for Christ’s sake and waking up before the sun isn’t my idea of retirement. I get up from bed, make coffee, and wait for the mailman to drop off my mail along with the newspaper.  I go back to bed and watch SpongeBob Squarepants, my favorite show to watch. Yes, fifty year old single men are indeed allowed to watch cartoons, not all of us have three ex-wives and only watch the news. Although, I do have two ex-wives and my children are about seven to ten years old I believe. Being a well-respected detective around the country, receiving gold medals for solving cases that were nearly impossible to solve, and being awarded by our first black president is enough for me. It sounds better than having a wife to nag you every day. Oh my. The kids crying about something new every time they get a chance to open their mouth? It's just not for me. Besides, I already have Zeus to keep me company and scare off any journalist or nosey asshole that tries to interview me. I usually get at least three or four of them a week. I call them the “smelly pricks” that try to make money off of the stories I have to tell them while I was a detective.

I sped through four episodes of SpongeBob Squarepants when my alarm goes off at eight in the morning. I like waking up early on a daily basis so my days don’t go to waste. Zeus gets up from his bed and begins barking at me as if he’s infuriated with me, his teeth are showing and saliva is drooling out of his mouth. He runs downstairs and I follow. He hasn’t been himself ever since he started barking earlier today. Zeus doesn’t bark this way for no reason, there is always something wrong.

I get to the first floor, not that my house is made up of multiple floors, it only has two, but that's where Zeus ran off to, and the mailman arrives. Just on time.

“Good morning Mr. Lustosa! Beautiful morning today isn’t it?” says Josh, the happiest human I’ve ever met. He loves bringing me my mail every morning because he knows how I like feeling remembered rather than forgotten. It’s a reminder that I still matter, even as a retired detective who watches cartoons.

“Anything interesting in the news today mister news man?” I doubt he fancies the nicknames I give him.

“A massive murder and some robbery sir. And it seems to me you’ve already got your mail in. Did you order it in or something?” he asks.

“I’ve got no mail nor a newspaper in my possession, if I did neither of us would be standing here."

“Well I don’t have mail for you today Mr. Lustosa, and you already have today’s newspaper.” He points out the newspaper on the table in the kitchen. It can’t be yesterday’s because I always throw them out before I go on my morning run. I didn’t have anything on that table, I never use it. I thank Josh and pat him on the shoulder as he goes on with his life.

I ignore the newspaper until I make some coffee and sit down to take my time and read it. Nothing catches my attention until I see a story about a man who uses a Mercedes to run over children outside of an elementary school. The perpetrator is nowhere to be found and the Mercedes was parked outside of a bakery just four blocks away from the school. The car doesn't have a license plate and nobody can seem to find a small hint of the man who was driving it. Thirty five children were killed and fifteen are in the hospital with severe injury. The children were lined up outside of the school in grade order, all the driver had to do was run them over, not a hard task. Though how he managed to escape and leave the car parked outside of a bakery is outstanding. And frankly, it makes my blood boil. 

After being utterly disturbed about the situation I close the newspaper and begin walking to my room until I see an envelope fall from it. I put the newspaper on the floor next to it and grab the envelope. No stamp, it’s taped rather than sealed; this letter is not from the post office. All it says in the front is For Mr. Lustosa. I open it immediately and notice the letter is handwritten. It read:

I have to say, congratulations on solving each and every one of the cases you’ve ever been involved in. Honestly, you are my inspiration and without you, none of this would be happening. So I thank you. Too bad you won’t get a chance to solve the Mercedes case. Retirement DOES get boring doesn’t it? How did you manage to be so perfect and solve every goddamn case? I mean, everything you’ve done with your life was towards your success, and it definitely proved to be worth it. It’s a shame that it might end in such a pathetic way. Forgive me, but I pray to God everyday you’d stop breathing. You old bastard. I am the perfect criminal and you are NOT the perfect detective. The Mercedes case is the perfect crime, nobody will ever find out it was me who killed all those innocent little children. I’ve met Zeus already, he’s a beautiful dog but he’s all bark and no bite. If I were you, I’d leave the house. I wouldn’t want to meet the perfect criminal.

With MUCH MUCH love, me

I remain silent and go back down to the kitchen. “If I were you I’d leave your house,” I automatically connect some missing blanks; he’s in my room. That is why Zeus was barking right at me, but it wasn’t directly at me he was barking at, it was the murderer.  He was right behind me and I did not notice. Impressive.

I hear him bark again three times before a loud cry, then suddenly it’s quiet again, no sound of anything except the human noise my terrified body makes. I grab the telephone to call the cops but the lines are cut, no signal. My cellphone is in my room, I’ve no access to it and at this point, the killer could be anywhere in the house. I silently go up the stairs until I see Zeus sitting quietly in front of my bedroom door. My bathroom is adjacent to my room, so I notice a shadow come off the mirror. He’s in the bathroom. I walk over towards my room and grab my cellphone and send a text to Kimberly, my favorite ex-wife and tell her I love her, and I might not see her tomorrow like we planned. Then I text the chief saying, “Send everyone here now.” I couldn’t send long messages, I didn’t know how much time I had. And I couldn’t call, because there’s a chance he might think I’m unaware of his presence.

“Hello Mr. Lustosa. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says as he cocks his gun. The last time I was scared was when I was eleven years old before my father died of a heart attack as I was riding my first roller coaster at Six Flags Great Adventure. Since then, this is the first time I’ve felt fear rush through my veins.

“Were you the one who came at five in the morning today?” I ask, annoyed.
“It was awfully easy." He backs up quickly with his revolver still pointed at me. There is nothing I can do. If he were closer to me I could try and take the gun away from him but I am hopeless. “Should I make this quick or do you want to die slowly?” he asks. He’s in my house without a mask, he’s not wearing any gloves to cover his fingerprints, he doesn’t plan on leaving this house knowing that I can now find him. He will shoot me and probably hide my body in some God forsaken desert. Or he might even just leave me here.

“I’ll tell you my plan and how it’s going to work. You’re about to die, and I’m going to put you inside of the Mercedes that I killed the children with. It’s brilliant! It’s the end for you Mister Lustosa, you will be remembered for decades. We’ll see each other in the next life.”

If this plan actually works, the chief might think I’ve gone mad and actually pulled off the crime myself. But there’s no way in hell people will come to that conclusion.

“What is your name?” I ask him.

“If I tell you, I’d have to kill you.” he loosens up his guard and puts his arm down. If I jump at him I could try and take his gun away, but I’m old and I might break a bone or two trying to save myself. It’s either that or a beatless heart.

“Do you still want to know?” he asks. He looked me in the eye and didn’t blink even once. It was an eerie scene until I hear someone ring the bell. He slowly moves towards the door and a pound of hope rushes up my spine and I accidentally let out a small giggle, which angers him. He hits me with the butt of his gun on my cheek and I fall down on the ground in really bad pain. I hear the sirens outside of the house and I know that the chief wouldn’t leave me hanging. It was too late to hope to get out of this situation when I saw the bullet accidentally coming straight for me temple. It’s true what they say about this specific moment in your life: you see it flash in front of you. I saw everything from the time I was in my mother's womb, I’ll be joining her shortly because now I see a light and I’m guessing that means heaven. Unfortunately, the bullet is the last thing that runs through my head.