This gruesome picture, snapped this morning just as the sun rose over the high grass of the Frog Blog Bog, shows our beloved Frog belly up and covered in a viscous, sickly-sweet smelling substance that must surely be blood. Look closely. (Assuming, of course, that you've already digested your breakfast.) You'll see that in his left . . . um . . . hand? foot? flipper? . . . is a partially-eaten chocolate chip cookie. Note the bloody candlestick, gun, rope and wrench nearby. Partially concealed beneath him is a wicked carving knife. (It didn't show up very well in the crime scene photo, so you're just going to have to take our word for it.)
Who could have committed this murder most fowl? (I mean foul. The neighboring chickens were asleep at the time and therefore not involved in any way. Forensic evidence will bear this out.)We have, of course, rounded up the usual suspects for your consideration. It's up to you to use deductive reasoning (or whatever reasoning you have at your disposal) to solve this heinous crime. Submit your best guest of a suspect, weapon and motive in the comments section of this blog.
Was it . . .
. . . A CRIME OF GREED?
Little Robbie WELLS, as you may recall, recently used his father’s wrench to crack open his piggy bank and run away to Disneyland. He’s back in the neighborhood now, delivering newspapers on his broken-down bicycle, pondering graduate school, and desperately seeking cash. Did he hear the rumors about Frog’s pot of gold? (You only think leprechauns hide pots of gold. It’s really frogs; that's how the fable about little green men got started.) Did The Frog arise tragically early this morning and surprise Robbie trying to ROB him?
. . . A CRIME OF PASSION?
Romance divas SARIAH S (the S is for Shrewd) WILSON and Julie C (the C is for Cunning) BELLON have long been vying over the Frog -- both are desperate for him to pose for the cover of their next bestseller. Perhaps Julie arrived first last night, set a tantalizing meal on a candlelit table, and then remembered she’d forgotten mosquitoes for the salad. While she was out hunting, SARIAH arrived and was overcome by the smell -- or probably even the thought -- of deep-fried flies. In a hormone-fueled delerium she grabbed the candlestick and lit into the first thing she saw.
Or perhaps JULIE was the one who came late, saw that Sariah had beat her to Frog-baiting (or Frog-beating, as the case may be) and grabbed the first weapon she saw, determined to prove that Canadians are not as nice (and pro anti-gun laws) as everyone says they are.
. . . A CRIME OF DESPERATION?
Still searching for the perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe, did sweet STEPHANIE hear from the mean aunt of the evil HR lady’s next-door neighbor’s manicurist’s anonymous cousin (I won’t mention any names, but his initial’s are FHL) that Jennie had been exchanging recipes with The Frog and that he now had in his possession a formula for the pentultimate chocolate chip cookie? (You know, the one that is worth a fortune because it was stolen from Neiman Marcus and now is carefully guarded under lock and key and never, ever, ever passed around the Internet, no matter what.) Was our would-be baker driven mad by the smell of melted chocolate chips, causing her to BLACK out, grasp the knife from the counter, and carve "Love Means Never Having to Say You're Sorry!" into The Frog's slimy skin?
. . . A CRIME OF OPPORTUNITY BY THE PERSON YOU'D LEAST EXPECT?
Perchance a dowdy dowager of death tiptoed through the tall grass and . . . Nah. Impossible. Nobody in their right mind would suspect saintly KERRY BLAIR. (Consult Julie's blog archives if you don't believe the adjective.) We'd better move on quickly. . .
. . . SOMETHING WORSE?
Imagine, if you will, this scenario: In a secluded studio at the edge of the Frog Blog Bog, JEFFREY R (the R stands for deRanged) hunches over his latest project -- a soon-to-be-released NYT bestseller of the horror variety. He grins maniacally into the dim greenish glow of his laptop, unaware that a rope has just snapped (about the same time as his mind) and released a SAVAGE monster into the dark and stormy night to prey upon an unsuspecting amphibian who was, moments before, enjoying a midnight snack of milk and cookies.
There you have it: a crime scene photo and six probable (I mean possible) suspects. You have only two days to solve the mystery by coming up with the right suspect, weapon & motive. (Be sure to explain your thought process.) On Sunday -- when we gather for The Frog's funeral -- we'll post the solution. In the unlikely event two or more of you get it right, we'll drop your names in the casket and decide the thing by random draw. Winner receives a mystery novel of their choice!
So, my friend, The game's afoot and the answer, dear Watson, is elementary! (Possibly middle school level, but no higher.) We double-frog dare you to come up with it!