User blog:High Prince Imrahil/Wiki Family - Cases, Cakes and Conspiracies

The name's Morgoth. Detective Morgoth, Private Eye.

--6:53 PM - Kitchen --

It was a smash and grab if I had ever seen one. Where there had once been a delicious slice of chocolate cake, now there was only brown crumbs. I chewed my candy cigarette thoughtfully, as I looked over the crime scene.

"Morgoth, would you quit talking to yourself? I'm trying to eat dinner here."

I looked to my older brother Imrahil, as he casually reclined at the dining table. He was a talkative sort of kid. He was tall and lanky, with long brown hair. You wouldn't know it by looking at him, but there was a flash of intelligence beneath those deep brown eyes.

"Uh... thanks? Seriously, could you please stop mumbling to yourself? It's starting to creep me- wait, are you going through a weird detective phase again?!"

Ignoring Imrahil as he dashed out the door, I looked down at the cake pan. Besides me, the only people who had access to that cake were my own family.

As hard as it was to think that there was a mole in my very own family, the facts were staring me straight in the face.

--6:54 PM - Living Room --

Stop number one was the living room. Eureka spent most of his time there, on the Xbox. He was a goody-two-shoes, the last person I thought would do the dirt. It'd be best to get him out of the way early... before things got messy.

“Messy? Morgoth, what are you talking about?!”

Messy, as in not clean-cut. No straight lines. Messy, as in dangerous. You’d never think the world was so unforgiving, until it comes and snatches what you love from right underneath you, leaving you cakeless and flailing in the dark with no end in sight.

"Where did you even get a fedora?!"

While he made random statements about my fashion, I swept over the living room with a trained eye. No crumbs of any kind. Just as I suspected.

"You've been watching Perry Mason again, haven't you?"

The poor kid was obviously upset. I told him not to worry his pretty little head about it. Best to leave this kind of dirty work to the professionals. I ain't gonna loose any more sleep over the things I'd seen. And the things I'd already seen could only haunt me in the short distance between here and the next bottle of root beer. And boy, I was gonna need an A&W when this was over.

--6:57 PM - The Backyard --

The backyard was third on my journey of depression and betrayal. It was the hideout of Shadow and Berry, two of the most likely suspects. Their tree house stood like a dark bastion against the grey sky. The rain poured down as I stepped out the door. Dark clouds moved in like an endless tide of... dark clouds... Dark like my past. Dark like my soul.

"Morgoth, it's literally 85 degrees and sunny. What the heck are you talking about, and why are you wearing a fedora??"

Cocky kid, asking me questions, when HE was the one that might have put a knife in my back! When HE was the one that might have eaten that piece of cake!!

"What?!"

His name was Berry. He was a nice kid. Always with his brother Shadow. I gave him my famous glare, and demanded he admit to his crimes. I told him that he was just an accomplice to Shadow, and he would get reduced prison time if he just owned up to it now.

"Prison time?! What?! Listen, Morgy-"

I corrected him, advising him to call me by my professional title: Detective Morgoth, Private Eye.

"I don't give a crap what you want me to call you! Besides, me and Shadow have been working on this tree fort all day! We couldn't of had time to steal your freaking cake or whatever."

I cast a wary glance towards the tree fort. He was right. Shadow and Berry had an alibi, those devilish sons of guns.

"Oh... kay. Hey, can I have one of those candy cigarettes?"

Turning on my heal, I walked back into the house. There was one more suspect on my list....

-- Upstairs Hallway - 7:12 PM --

I held my breath, waiting just outside the door. Even the slightest noise could alert the diabolical mastermind to my presence. That source of all cake-eating evils: Edacnik. Itallie walked down the hallway past me to her own room. I breathlessly told the dame to be quiet, so she wouldn't give away my secret stake-out.

"Why are you talking to yourself? And why are you wearing a trench coat?? It's, like, 80 degrees in here. Waaaaaait a sec... are you going through another detective phase? Binge watching Perry Mason, really isn't a good influence..."

Life hadn't been a good influence on me. But I couldn't help it if the dame was too naive, not seeing as much of the world as I had.

"Morgoth, I'm older then you by at least five years."

I glared daggers at her. She was so scared that her pupils rolled back towards her head. She proceeded with remarkable composure towards her room.

Suddenly, I heard movement inside the room. The time had come.

-- Edacnik's Room - 7:13 PM --

I flung open the doorway and stormed in. Evil Mastermind Edacnik was lounging on his bed, reading a book. He looked up at me with little emotion. Little did he know that his criminal empire was at its end!

"What are you talking about, and why are you in my room?!"

Carefully, I drew my weapon: a Class 7 Nerf Bazooka, outfitted with custom-made trigger mechanisms and a fully automatic repeat-action dart shooter. The ultimate in foam-operated warfare.

"Is that fully automatic thing even legal??"

Geneighva Convention infringements aside, I glared angrily, showing I meant business. If he didn't start talking soon, he was gonna have a face full of foam.

"What are you talking about?!"

Ha! Trying to play innocent with me, is like trying to catch a sea turtle... or something like that... I'm running low on noir analogies. The point is, that he continued to act like he didn't know anything about the piece of cake he had eaten!! My grip on Mister Boomy tightened, as I aimed for his face.

"Mister Boomy, seriously? What is this, the Sesame Street Mafia? What's this about a cake?"

I quickly explained about the cake, even though he obviously had eaten it.

"Wait a sec, is this the cake you made earlier? Dude, I'm allergic to chocolate."

My grip on Mr. Boomy slackened. This guy had a point. Without a motive, it made no sense for him to risk getting caught. Dejectedly, I flick the safety back on and do my best at apologizing for threatening him with thirty-six rounds of foam bullets.

“It’s—uh—fine, Morgy. I know you didn’t mean it.”

I nodded, but deep down inside I knew that I was ready to pull that cord if he said the wrong words. What had I come to?

“Uh, okaaay… I think I’ll just go now.”

As Edacnik scurried down the hallway, I knew I had hit rock-bottom. I just held my own brother at gun-point, and for nothing. I was desperate—I was sure of that much—but had I lost my cause? Was I still a detective, or was I just a crazy, cakeless guy with freaking awesome fedora?

-- 7:38 PM - Kitchen --

Slowly, I downed my eighth bottle of A&W Root Beer. I could feel the carbonation burning down the back of my throat, the sugar slowly drowning my depression.

I had gone full circle, and it got me nowhere. Each visit replayed in my mind a hundred thousand times, but I couldn’t put anything together that makes sense. I was a failure on all counts, and I knew it. Every lead led me straight to a brick wall. Eureka was too innocent. Berry and Shadow had an alibi. Edacnik was allergic to chocolate... wait a minute...

Then, an odd, niggling thought struck me. I felt compelled to draw up a little diagram listing the reasons why I originally suspected each potential culprit along with the evidence that ultimately cleared them. And I began to notice a startling pattern.

Half an hour later, the little diagram had grown to consume my entire bulletin board with pictures, thumbtacks, and notes all connected in a web of red string. A web of lies that I was only now starting to understand. By Gror, I’d figured it out at last!

It was all so clear now. Alone, each of the suspects lacked the capability to pull off such a dastardly deed. But if they had been working together, it was an entirely different story. The pieces fell together like clockwork.

Edacnik had all the opportunity in the world to nab the cake, but no reason to do it at all… unless someone was paying him to do it, that is. But even then, a job this big meant he would need to hire outside help. And what better place to get the muscle than from Shadow and Berry's crime empire? Of course, they’d want to keep the cover of their tree house front as clean as possible. That’s where Eureka came in. He was the middle man. After all, what better person was there for the less than entirely legitimate exchange of money than someone who seemed so innocent?

And then the final piece. The icing on a big, multi-layered cake of deception. The client who orchestrated it all, who paid a great deal of bits to these undesirables to procure the cake for her. With a sinking sensation, I realized that this girl was none other then the dame that had confronted me in the upstairs hallway.

"Morgoth?"

I turned around to see Imrahil standing in the doorway with a wry grin and a bag from Dairy Queen. Who was to say Imrahil wouldn't be next on the hit-list?! I quickly ran over and explained to Imrahil how the crooks were tying up loose ends, and he was in danger!

"No, Morgoth. I was the one that ate your cake."

Wait, what?! My mouth dropped open. My most trusted older brother was the culprit all along... and I was too trusting, too naive to see it. How could I have been so blind?!

"Uh... okay. Anyways, I'm really sorry about it. You know how I am around chocolate, I just couldn't help myself... I'm so sorry."

Really!? Thank goodness!

"Wait, you're happy I ate the cake??"

Duh, of course I am! ‘Cause that means that Eureka isn’t really a Mafioso, Berry and Shady aren’t running a shady money-laundering business from the tree-house, and Edacnik isn't an assassin that wants to kill us all! And to top it all off, judging by the size of that bag, I can logically deduce that you got me a replacement cake!

"Uh... I know you like Dairy Queen Ice Cream Cakes. I got you an extra large one to apologize. Now what's that you said about Eureka in the mafia?"

It's a long story, Immy... let's talk over it during dessert.

I removed two bowls from the cupboard as I began to recount: It all started at around 6:00 this evening...