A Tune to Croon in the Suspect Room

by Rebecca Jane

I warned Mister Winkelpoke that if he put his icy hand on my thigh, there'd be hell to pay. He said he'd take his chances. We ended that evening with common pleasantries, and that was the last time I saw him alive. The mischievous Finn boy is the one who discovered Winkelpoke's body in the Millpond near the abandoned rail yard. Why don't you ask the boy what he knows? Now I'm warning you: you keep shining that blazing light in my face, honey, and I'll just have to sing "That Old Black Magic" way off-key.


Rebecca Jane writes fiction to stay out of trouble. She always grins. She sometimes fails. She never squeals.


falconetti said...

I'll bet Mr. Winkelpoke squealed! (Great story!)

Anonymous said...

Very cool piece.

carolyn said...

Love it!

Anonymous said...

Wow! This was an awesome read!