tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84092507425311141592024-02-07T04:43:29.148-08:00Nano MysteriesThe World's Quickest Mystery PuzzlesAlan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-14695803897007639942013-06-16T08:07:00.000-07:002012-06-16T08:37:16.285-07:00A Strange Encounter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_YOhIZae_6rqg0TCfw9OjyJ1RNc9qQXTXWZ29myRG7thqNnpk4-6C1UKn8ifamFZaIVL7JiXcxFv-USl8lVMY0nHeC9EgPDjSDumH_EnfDAZrDA3LoLAhUeDtqDI7tZfeYU-t4rS0NAq/s1600/Intro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_YOhIZae_6rqg0TCfw9OjyJ1RNc9qQXTXWZ29myRG7thqNnpk4-6C1UKn8ifamFZaIVL7JiXcxFv-USl8lVMY0nHeC9EgPDjSDumH_EnfDAZrDA3LoLAhUeDtqDI7tZfeYU-t4rS0NAq/s1600/Intro.jpg" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Professor Nano!” you say, handshake first, eyebrows high with hope. “Allow me to introduce myself.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Don’t say a word!” Nano snaps, “let me tell </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">you</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> who you are.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Nano is floating like cigar smoke above his projection box but thanks to the science of artificial touch, he easily handshakes you into submission. Releasing your hand, Nano gives you a long overview from head to toe with squinty virtual eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “We have never met before this very moment...is that correct?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Yes,” you answer, feeling rather uneasy under his piercing probe.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “And yet by simple deduction, I can tell that you had eggs for breakfast this morning, that your initials are HN, that you came here in great haste to discuss a matter of the utmost gravity. And that you are new to this city and left-handed!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> You are amazed. Astounded. Nano has not gotten a single thing right!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Am I correct?” he asks with a wily smirk.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Sort of. I mean, I did eat breakfast this morning but it wasn’t eggs.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “No eggs? Then how do you explain the yellowish stain on your blouse?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “That’s not a stain. It’s part of the design. See? There’s a matching one on the other side. I guess your programmers are still having trouble with pattern recognition.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Well then Hilbert...” he says, taking a bold stab at your first name.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But you quickly correct his mistake and tell him your real name.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Then why in heaven’s name do your shoes carry the initials HN on the front?” he asks.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Oh! I’m afraid you’re reading them upside down. The letters are NH. It’s the monogram of the famous shoe designer... Nemian Hands.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “I see,” Nano says, somberly. There’s a slight shimmy in his image but that, you figure, could be due to a random gust of air.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “But I did just move into the upstairs apartment!” you say kindly. “Only it wasn’t from another city.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “And this matter of utmost urgency that impelled you to summon me like a genie?” Nano asks.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Sorry, I was just tinkering with the box. I didn’t realize I would <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">activate the program. I mean summon you,” you say, pointing to the black case with your left hand.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Left-handed?” Nano asks sadly, already knowing the answer. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Nope,” you say.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> A glum silence prevails as Nano stands stiffly and translucently in the center of the room, waiting for you to continue. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.05pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“It says in the instructions that you are a kind of detective,” you offer</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Virtual detective...the world’s first,” Nano announces proudly. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “So that’s why you were trying to guess who I was.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Bah! That was just a silly game to test your mettle,” he says. “Luckily, mettle isn’t my quarry.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “That’s very lucky indeed.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “A silly game for mere sherlocks. I find logic and reason intensely boring. If you need that kind of deduction, I believe the company makes a Poirot-to-Go. Check the catalog.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Well then how do you detect?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “With a far more interesting instrument...the flash of understanding, the creative hoopdedoo.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “The hoop-de-huh?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Intuition!” he says, tapping his skull and releasing tiny specks of digital bits into the image.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But he can see from your squashed eyes and buck teeth that you still don’t get it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “I am an expert in the obvious.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Aha!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Precisely. I am summoned on cases when reason has fallen flat as a pancake. They call me in when the police are stymied because they are at the end of their rational ropes.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “What kind of cases?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Murder, codebreaking, theft, all sorts of things. Anything that doesn’t rely on rigid logic or seasoned reason.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “What then?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “A shot of lunacy, a quirk in the old noodle, the revelation of the obvious!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Another tap on the head, more virtual dandruff. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “I call them braintwiddlers,” Nano continues. “They’re puzzles all </span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.05pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">right. But not of the `if three men drank three beers in three days’ variety.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> These are tests of how sharp you are, not how smart.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “I see,” you say. “Can you tell me about them?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Certainly, my young friend. Let’s make a game of it and see if you can outwit the old professor. How about this...I’ll describe the case and you try to solve it.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “I’m not too good at puzzles.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Even better! Try to use your imagination instead. Trust your wits.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “I’m not sure my wits are up to snuff.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Rubbish. Even a halfwit has half a wit. Let’s start with an easy one first,” Nano says and gives the appearance of rummaging his brain for a sample. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Being only a computer projection, there is, of course, no rummaging and no brain. But the programmers have thought of everything to give Nano the impression of reality. Right down to the curl at the ends of the lips which even you can see is the kind of sly smirk designed to fool an innocent dolt like yourself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-47830646980944857382012-06-18T07:30:00.001-07:002012-06-18T07:30:38.277-07:00A Cold Case<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0qojgNaG1rZ_f9S7p-dH-Egi7FRMtormbK7oeLdgQfIdlSF7ZGOiOG195anEKLVwm8-rBV0ZpoyYpk0-i7OloWmGAh24IAtRt-72v-PYXdP8GR_rCoDD4nFs3lMeFd2XoiZL5qdAit-zw/s1600/35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0qojgNaG1rZ_f9S7p-dH-Egi7FRMtormbK7oeLdgQfIdlSF7ZGOiOG195anEKLVwm8-rBV0ZpoyYpk0-i7OloWmGAh24IAtRt-72v-PYXdP8GR_rCoDD4nFs3lMeFd2XoiZL5qdAit-zw/s1600/35.jpg" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Determined as I am to prove that a brain is more than a lump of beef that can make lists, I offer you the following little challenge. This episode took place in a ski lodge where my technician and I were on vacation. Well, he was the one vacating...skiing and bathing in the hot springs. I was there gathering data for my studies of dumb behavior.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It was pure luck on my part that a murder broke the serenity.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It seems that Nils Dortmun, an alpiner loved and respected by everyone, was found dead in one of the ski shacks. It was an empty shack with nothing in it at all. Just Dortmun’s body lying there on the ground with a puncture wound and blood all over. There was nothing else there but a small puddle of water.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> No weapon, no clues, no marks. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;">And no motive on the part of anyone. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;">On top of all that, the shack had been locked from the inside.</span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The local police had no idea who had killed him or the method of his murder. Naturally I was able to help out because in studying the scene I immediately knew the weapon, the method, and the whodunnit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Do you know how he was killed?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
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</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> You take a deep breath, straighten your shoulders, and plunge into your theory, with all the hope of one who might very well drown in the pool of stupidity. “Did he kill himself by stabbing himself with an icicle which later melted into the pool of water near the body?” you say with all the gumption you can muster.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Well I’ll be,” Nano says softly. “We might turn you into a master of the obvious yet!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
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</div>Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-20069442295113817762012-06-18T07:24:00.000-07:002012-06-18T07:24:14.560-07:00The Old Switcheroo<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggV-scZf5Xz4cMZdSMQRccXbqrWvvgjZU3EKtSpaVA8Fnpml392L01wfs8OF6W8SOgxELDbvr5fppfxdskx34Z2tWFn-VB6Gc5jiQv1o2L1WbI37dieTefex-Js7l00dL325-pzNCuv7dq/s1600/34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggV-scZf5Xz4cMZdSMQRccXbqrWvvgjZU3EKtSpaVA8Fnpml392L01wfs8OF6W8SOgxELDbvr5fppfxdskx34Z2tWFn-VB6Gc5jiQv1o2L1WbI37dieTefex-Js7l00dL325-pzNCuv7dq/s1600/34.jpg" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Only Dumbrow could have gotten himself into this kind of fix. And only I could have gotten him out of it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Like anyone with no horse sense at all, Dumbrow was a bettor and loved to go to the track. He made the usual bets based on tips, names, track conditions...all the things that keep racetracks in the black. But he also made side bets all the time with his circle of fellow gamblers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> This one time a strange bet came about because those fellows will bet on anything. In this case, two of the owners were arguing about the relative skills of their jockeys and decided to settle their disagreement with a bet of course.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But leave it to Dumbrow to come up with this idiotic idea for a race...that the winner would be the one whose horse lost! </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;">I guess he thought this would be more fun.</span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But you see the problem? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> How can you have a race when you want your horse to lose? No one would leave the starting gate.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Luckily Dumbrow contacted me and I was able to come up with a way to actually run such a race.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What did I suggest?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “That they leave the track and settle for a nice game of bridge?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “No, the answer was right there at the track. I told them run the race but to have their jockeys switch horses. That way you tell your own jockey to do what he always does...try to win the race. And if he does, on the other horse, then you win the bet!”</span></span></div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-33513135509944843432012-06-18T07:20:00.000-07:002012-06-18T07:20:05.644-07:00The A/B Murder<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXA6QlpGN9mCBZsQbcGgSSIutlY8A40ek1Yr-YWH2zKA0isDDwL9DyqKlwmVLlTjy2008mmQkW0MZ9_8YLFKbYV5kHg1P6jPSLgNCjYWwxxSEOVCBAMSUQU1gVjMeV9v9fCJh1aQXOV1H9/s1600/33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXA6QlpGN9mCBZsQbcGgSSIutlY8A40ek1Yr-YWH2zKA0isDDwL9DyqKlwmVLlTjy2008mmQkW0MZ9_8YLFKbYV5kHg1P6jPSLgNCjYWwxxSEOVCBAMSUQU1gVjMeV9v9fCJh1aQXOV1H9/s320/33.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> As a virtual person, I would not get invited to many dinner parties because I am not a very good eater. In fact, I don’t eat at all unless you </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;">call the electricity that runs me a form of nourishment.</span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But as you can imagine with my background, I am a very good dinner guest with many entertaining stories to tell. And so when Lord and Lady Briskett had me to dinner, I was not at all surprised. They positioned me at the table where I was able to mimic dinner party behavior rather well and be rather charming. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But when one of the guests dropped dead it proved to be quite lucky that I was invited.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The victim in question was poisoned and fell head first into the stew. The reaction was so clear that I knew the stew had to be poisoned but here’s the problem. All the other guests ate the exact same stew and none of them dropped. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I thought about it for a moment and soon realized what must have happened and who was implicated.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Do you know?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “The victim was allergic to stew and the murderer – his allergist – knew it!” you say.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Nice stab but, as usual, wrong. What I realized was that the murderer must have used a two-part poison that only killed when mixed. The victim had been given part one in another serving and only died when it mixed with part two in the stew. The chef had a bit of explaining to do.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-91956166876333448892012-06-18T07:16:00.001-07:002012-06-18T07:16:46.738-07:00The Fireplace Case<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg00TMnmgpU9lRD0sFqFxQWjl9ebDyU4jTfIeDs2AmIMZp2zQRvKA01QuWk2m0NQEJhPsBFbJGfUDcCmuzhLFq7UcpDLZgXKoLP4cYlJdZP_fgmptsYwom6AZvjl_rCSXVJPPQfO2sQonY/s1600/32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg00TMnmgpU9lRD0sFqFxQWjl9ebDyU4jTfIeDs2AmIMZp2zQRvKA01QuWk2m0NQEJhPsBFbJGfUDcCmuzhLFq7UcpDLZgXKoLP4cYlJdZP_fgmptsYwom6AZvjl_rCSXVJPPQfO2sQonY/s320/32.jpg" width="205" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Well this one really wasn’t a case at all, but I was so proud of my insight that I keep it with my finest solutions. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> You see, a friend of mine who installs fireplaces came to me once with a problem. Now you might not associate fireplaces with the art of the obvious but that is the beauty of this field of endeavor...everything applies. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The problem in question was that he had a series of bad business ventures in which he installed the fireplaces for customers who then <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">refused to pay for all his work. And when they did, all his effort went </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;">up in smoke, so to say. What my friend wanted was some method for making the fireplaces unusable until the checks cleared. </span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> That sounds like a simple enough request but of course you cannot exactly lock up a fireplace.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Nonetheless, I was able to devise a very simple method by which he could complete his work but render the fireplace totally unusable until he decided to “unlock it.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I’ll give you a hint...the method I came up with involved the use of a single brick.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What did I suggest to him?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “This one’s easy,” you say with the confidence of the befuddled. “He threatens to beat his customer with a brick until he coughs up the dough.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “That might have worked but I found a much safer solution. I simply told him to install a sheet of glass halfway up the flue, which would block the air and prevent an updraft. No updraft, no fire. When the check cleared, he could simply drop a brick down the chimney...and open the fireplace up!”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-6697790112056931192012-06-18T07:12:00.001-07:002012-06-18T07:13:19.839-07:00A Remote Possibility<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJqPdlomHrk0imDy6N99uD_5FzoYuljOPbkfKdQKcytn_C471Ajhn0dwleNNUc3B6q8PPTSqRBWeBI63rYZakAQp82sLM4l3OUqLdeyznJwpmiFBe-M8cboQLHv07QkuZohU0Xxi87wKI/s1600/31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJqPdlomHrk0imDy6N99uD_5FzoYuljOPbkfKdQKcytn_C471Ajhn0dwleNNUc3B6q8PPTSqRBWeBI63rYZakAQp82sLM4l3OUqLdeyznJwpmiFBe-M8cboQLHv07QkuZohU0Xxi87wKI/s320/31.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Here’s a case that didn’t involve any crime at all. Well...except for the common misdemeanor known as stupidity. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I was at the mall directing my technician to buy some virtual exclamation points when I noticed a set of keys that someone had lost. This was a standard key case with a bunch of keys for house, office, mailbox, and a car key with one of those automatic car door openers on it. There was there was no identification tag nor any other way to locate the owner of the keys. Even I with instant data access could not tell what kind of car they went with. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Now I could have simply told the technician to take the keys to the lost and found and be done with it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But you know me...when I hit upon a brilliantly obvious solution, I cannot resist. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> So I found my own unique way to return the lost keys. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What did I do?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “You stood at the top of the stairs and shouted at the top of your lungs...”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “The obvious is never about shouting, my young friend. It is a quiet pursuit. No, I simply had my technician walk around the parking lot trying the automatic door opener in all directions until he heard a car door unlock. Then he waited for the owner to show up and shower me with gratitude.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-6214458576053505662012-06-18T07:03:00.000-07:002012-06-18T07:03:34.625-07:00The Bookie's Book<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9IP1ON_tyLzxTm0j_OJ-NlC-juw2NLmstLIKIQbFOG3qrli3518Ro7zxDOnxZ2CWDf7SvLO7EYhmoCUXYAyNUvN5QRjcLJx28KJwJFUf0mhiH4VbeXN_DMKDdOncfkaYlMru6yNEe072r/s1600/30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9IP1ON_tyLzxTm0j_OJ-NlC-juw2NLmstLIKIQbFOG3qrli3518Ro7zxDOnxZ2CWDf7SvLO7EYhmoCUXYAyNUvN5QRjcLJx28KJwJFUf0mhiH4VbeXN_DMKDdOncfkaYlMru6yNEe072r/s1600/30.jpg" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Reggie the Rat was a real rat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What they call a squealer, a snitch, or a buzzboy in the colorful language of the streets. In other words, he gave information on people he knew. And this time Dumbrow knew that Reggie knew something about a recent jewelry store robbery. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Thinking he could get the little rodent to talk, Dumbrow had cornered him at his job at the local library on the other side of town and took him down to the precinct for questioning. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But time was running out and they both knew that Dumbrow could only hold Reggie for another hour. Then he would have to let him go. At the end of his dim wits, Dumbrow threatened to pin an unrelated theft on Reggie if he didn’t cooperate. The Rat finally broke down and confessed that he had hidden the names of the thieves in a book in the library. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Where exactly?” Dumbrow demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Right between pages 123 and 124 of a copy of </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Murder My Sweet</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> by Raymond Chandler.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Which shelf?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Dunno. The librarian put it away.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Dumbrow had his jacket on and was almost out the door when he saw me shaking my head sadly. I instantly knew that Dumbrow was off on a wild goose chase and I told him so. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What exactly did I tell Dumbrow?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “That </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Murder My Sweet</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> was only 122 pages long?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Nice try! But the real answer is far more obvious, which is the way I like them. You can’t hide anything at all between pages 123 and 124 of any book since they are on two sides of the same sheet of paper!”</span></div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-62801286644144169142012-06-18T06:59:00.000-07:002012-06-18T06:59:58.550-07:00The Smoking Gun<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6vI0dFE2aJpspxzIJNXq2kSeOI7tOrI138_Jf7WCJEsa9gmyW-bF9ZBlsr-LiWd7Gf4YiYZrlprcp6wjd-JAAMgqgGvCstxOMWu26sOJdKO28dhmMqQo9GpS2FTFldBzkkk6RibbMxSzy/s1600/29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6vI0dFE2aJpspxzIJNXq2kSeOI7tOrI138_Jf7WCJEsa9gmyW-bF9ZBlsr-LiWd7Gf4YiYZrlprcp6wjd-JAAMgqgGvCstxOMWu26sOJdKO28dhmMqQo9GpS2FTFldBzkkk6RibbMxSzy/s1600/29.jpg" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I am sure that you have heard of the proverbial smoking gun, no? It means proof that someone is guilty. Well here is a case where there actually was a smoking gun. Except that in actual fact, it was a knife. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It happened to be a very fancy knife with a carved ivory handle and it was found lying right next to the victim in the kitchen in a pool of blood. Sounds rather like a game of Clue but this was no game. The victim was a food critic and he was found lying on the floor of the kitchen that belonged to Chef Shiff at his restaurant Chez Chef Shiff. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> This happened after the restaurant had closed for the night and the Chef himself claimed to have been out at the time of the murder. He said that he returned to find the body. It was clear that the knife belonged to the chef, the chef to the restaurant, and the victim to the coroner...but Shiff adamantly denied any wrongdoing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Dumbrow was there of course and as usual put two and two together to get four...he slapped the cuffs on the chef. If I hadn’t been there to save the day, Shiff would have been prepping his next meal in the joint.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Lucky for him I was immediately able to see that Chef Shiff was </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;">innocent. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> How did I know?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Chef Shiff,” you shout, “was right-handed and the knife was for lefties!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Once again I see that your rationality is getting the better of you,” Nano says. “But no, it was much simpler than that. I could see from the bullet hole in the head that the victim was shot not stabbed.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-80415871041155722462012-06-18T06:56:00.000-07:002012-06-18T06:56:26.889-07:00Shafted<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEildwarDmffDaAiEfM9oWBekl4vsrMETK0xZZBk7OKn4Uvmy8mu2RcjxwXVm-WegUjxjcOWzUkj3g-oeUaFdRuhemYpGJFT9JXIygPe-IgpLBsWokpKn696j3jc6OWSrKLQHmKygYgBCYFH/s1600/28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEildwarDmffDaAiEfM9oWBekl4vsrMETK0xZZBk7OKn4Uvmy8mu2RcjxwXVm-WegUjxjcOWzUkj3g-oeUaFdRuhemYpGJFT9JXIygPe-IgpLBsWokpKn696j3jc6OWSrKLQHmKygYgBCYFH/s320/28.jpg" width="242" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> A thief broke into the Museum of Ancient Artifacts and stole a priceless figurine from the Trobriand Islands. It was carved in cork 600 years ago, a beautiful sculpture of a bird. He skipped all the masks from ancient Africa, the canoes from the far north, and grabbed this statuette simply because it was so small. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Unknown to him, of course, he set off a laser alarm and the guards soon chased him. Somehow he managed to outrace them to the front doors and get outside, but they continued to pursue him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> A block away, seeing that he was on the verge of getting caught, he dropped the little statue into a hole and got away. But that presented the problem, the kind that only a master of the obvious like myself could solve. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> You see, the hole was actually the top of a pipe stuck in the ground for a drainage system that was never built. It was thirty feet deep and only a foot in diameter but just wide enough to drop the cork statue into. No doubt the statue was sitting at the bottom of the shaft but any attempt to drop some devise down to retrieve it would possibly have damaged it. </span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The statue was stuck, the guards were stuck. I was not.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I saw the solution immediately and was able to solve the problem by making one simple call. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Who do you think I called?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Er...a troupe of trained mice?” you say witlessly, but even you know that you are stalling.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “No, I called the fire department of course.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Did they have teensy little ladders?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “They had a hose,” Nano says, ignoring your failure at humor, “which allowed them to gently pour water into the pipe, thus raising the cork statue, which rose as the water did.”</span></div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-91379596851368889062012-06-18T06:52:00.001-07:002012-06-18T06:52:58.000-07:00A Breath of Air<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXpsVnlTVm41yFaOlJ65FM6JOxcCpnIZ00dlhzQo8wwa74SjK3zLKdwIrlCnTENqWQnz6H8QCQ60CsB-UxFUD3SqnrWa5X20W0an0SmcgR2wppDZfJMvS8UMkGOH_1A7Qd43NEGlGfUYes/s1600/27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXpsVnlTVm41yFaOlJ65FM6JOxcCpnIZ00dlhzQo8wwa74SjK3zLKdwIrlCnTENqWQnz6H8QCQ60CsB-UxFUD3SqnrWa5X20W0an0SmcgR2wppDZfJMvS8UMkGOH_1A7Qd43NEGlGfUYes/s320/27.jpg" width="215" /></span></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It never fails to amaze me how the moment I become known as an expert problem-solver, solvable problems seem to present themselves all the time. Wherever I am, such riddles just pop up. Like the time I was at a rather posh spa here in the city, trying desperately to escape all pressures and impingements. Even virtual persons like myself need a break. But naturally, this was not to be. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Just as I was floating poolside and relaxing, I heard a splash and there was a great commotion in the water. By the time I redirected my attention, I could see that one of the guests was in the process of rescuing another man from the pool. He quickly pulled this limp fellow from the water, threw him down onto the tiled floor, and immediately began frantic CPR. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> In the scuttlebutt that emerged among the onlookers, it became clear the heroic effort being performed was all the more dramatic since the two men were business rivals. I watched along with the others as the one man pinched the other’s nose, pressed his mouth against the victim’s lips, and pushed repeatedly on his chest for almost ten minutes. Alas it was all to no avail. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> By the time he stopped, gazing serenely and sadly at his late associate, he knew as we all did that it was too late. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But not too late for me to have my final word on the matter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What do you think I said?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nano Solution</span></span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Anyone for a swim?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “I said arrest that man for murder. Far from performing CPR to save his rival, he had suffocated him by pinching his nose closed and only pretending to breathe into his chest. The two actions look the same, except that after such heavy breathing, our hero ought to have been out of breath himself!”</span></div>Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-52685907502945778942012-06-18T06:48:00.002-07:002012-06-18T06:49:32.521-07:00A General Question<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIr18a3To0EqV_edtN5bQ887IQilM7zQBSD20iG6E6wWNvQ-XdVi3_7pkY188B5VJlpS8dbGk1Fhe5D3tA9YFhNtNGiJtdHiDsiTisUnz3X7hkVPUbzhExhtH_YlewbmqbgUmFm6nSPkVN/s1600/26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIr18a3To0EqV_edtN5bQ887IQilM7zQBSD20iG6E6wWNvQ-XdVi3_7pkY188B5VJlpS8dbGk1Fhe5D3tA9YFhNtNGiJtdHiDsiTisUnz3X7hkVPUbzhExhtH_YlewbmqbgUmFm6nSPkVN/s320/26.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Naturally I don’t always take on every challenge that presents itself to me. Some are questions of hindsight not insight. And others are questions that are really better left unanswered. Nonetheless, I save them all for a time just like this to demonstrate the art of the obvious.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Take for instance, this email I received from a general who was the dictator of a country that shall remain nameless for our purposes. This general wanted to prevent any possible future coup by the sons of the officers in the army. That the general’s own son was to remain safe was obvious. Was there any way, the general asked, for me to apply my unique skills to solve the problem? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> There was of course and it was a very simple way. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Naturally I never actually responded, but if I had I would simply have suggested that the general pass a law that any boy whose father was in the military was to be shot on the spot. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It was the perfect solution.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But do you know why?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Because dictators can do whatever they want, like change the law to suit themselves,” you suggest.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Very wise, answer, my friend,” Nano says, “but my suggestion did not need to be changed.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “But any boy whose father was in the military would be shot. And the general too was in the military.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “True...but the general was a woman!”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-43055891769830636192012-06-18T06:41:00.002-07:002012-06-20T17:02:39.667-07:00Bland Larceny<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKIfnpZxdZIK8Y3Ltj2qT-R2AE7-8Rh6o5tTZ9DsB4E927t-s1Tknu4jMxkjCjDGSB12yM0QC_6u3kwtElWSiG2U6ir2lFy0xTDXJqojD5MtpxfhGuS1uUy6uPADSP8gWJT4U1I8cLQfje/s1600/25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKIfnpZxdZIK8Y3Ltj2qT-R2AE7-8Rh6o5tTZ9DsB4E927t-s1Tknu4jMxkjCjDGSB12yM0QC_6u3kwtElWSiG2U6ir2lFy0xTDXJqojD5MtpxfhGuS1uUy6uPADSP8gWJT4U1I8cLQfje/s320/25.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Do you know the new skyscraper they just completed? I actually had a hand – a mental hand that is – in its construction. I didn’t build anything for it, of course, didn’t do a stitch of manual labor in fact. What I did do was stop a crime in progress.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I was contracted by the foreman of the building site when they had just started. It seems that one of the workers there was engaged in some peculiar behavior and naturally they needed an expert in peculiarity, so they got me. I only had to be down there once to see what was going on and to instantly solve the problem. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Each day at quitting time, the fellow in question would load up a wheelbarrow of discarded material from the site – pieces of wood, lengths of tubing, broken chips of concrete, scraps of paper, and so on – and carry it out past the man guarding the site. He had been doing this for an entire week. It was unusual behavior but since the material was nothing but useless junk with no value at all, the guard let him pass. Still, the foreman felt that something was wrong. Why would anyone do such a thing? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> He hadn’t a clue, needless to say, so I had to clue him in.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What did I tell the foreman?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “That the man was using the discards to build a clever but illegal copy of the building where he would...” but your voice trails off as even your own warped imagination begins to peter out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “But it’s so simple,” Nano says. “The man was stealing wheelbarrows and selling them to other construction sites!”</span></div>Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-55307634708814365792012-06-18T06:36:00.000-07:002012-06-18T06:36:51.972-07:00The End of His Rope<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJl9Q6SXEN2wYpZROMdsZooOQ7JUe15Sv1l_AxZpkvp8QPfR0SqIA6TM7m_RXYy8uT_-sJesYi2gg37oxuEH135VClKCswPce4oifZ3Du_L9hEkfq3K8a5b0jFwLLpmTfJksiw8niT7LgF/s1600/24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJl9Q6SXEN2wYpZROMdsZooOQ7JUe15Sv1l_AxZpkvp8QPfR0SqIA6TM7m_RXYy8uT_-sJesYi2gg37oxuEH135VClKCswPce4oifZ3Du_L9hEkfq3K8a5b0jFwLLpmTfJksiw8niT7LgF/s1600/24.jpg" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Now here is one that should not give you too much trouble; at least it did not give me any. But then again, I am of course...me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It involved an escape from a holding cell by a crook named Benny. After he was arrested for another of his petty larcenies, they put him in a room in the detention center downtown and more or less forgot about him. Now the windows in this particular room were not very well reinforced: this was not a cell really but only a hearing room. No one gave this a second thought because Benny wasn’t too bright. They never figured that he might even try to escape. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Sure enough, when they came in the next morning, the window was broken and Benny was gone. Now I just so happened to be in the building solving another problem when and I overheard the commotion and asked to be relocated there. After some simple analysis, I found out that the janitor had pushed his cleaning cart near the holding room that night and that a piece of rope was missing from it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But here’s the problem...the rope in question was thick and short. A hefty piece of cable, but only about fifteen feet long. But the drop to the ground from the window was 35 feet! Had Benny jumped the 20-foot gap? I don’t think so. He was stupid but not foolhardy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> How do you think he actually pulled off the stunt?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “It was all a ruse! He hadn’t actually escaped but was hiding under the table...” you begin but Nano cuts you off with the speed of a barber. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Sorry, “ he says, “but I’ve heard it all before. So let me get to the point. Cable is made of twisted strands of rope. Benny uncoiled it so he wound up with two pieces that he tied together to make a 30-foot long piece. Then he only had to jump 5 feet.”</span></div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-58921450645380199012012-06-18T06:33:00.000-07:002012-06-18T06:33:26.965-07:00Unusual Suspect<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEcpNu4BzH5_Sb1xHHFJKcYunxJZtG_CTwUBGTnhZMhZSLNU4FZ6r4vObkrdP-icSy_Lwfv1ASwU9iqbb0U-kngHKHj99MYZYba3JnuffvPnQELdUzDHzk5vIyUhdgO67NV7YS3ghatm3r/s1600/23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEcpNu4BzH5_Sb1xHHFJKcYunxJZtG_CTwUBGTnhZMhZSLNU4FZ6r4vObkrdP-icSy_Lwfv1ASwU9iqbb0U-kngHKHj99MYZYba3JnuffvPnQELdUzDHzk5vIyUhdgO67NV7YS3ghatm3r/s320/23.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> As a student of the obvious, I am a great fan of the so-called “locked room” puzzle because all of the clues for solving it are right there under your nose. Which reminds me of a classic example of one that involved yours truly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I spotted the body of Henry Dodd myself the moment I was summoned. He was lying face down on the floor of his living room. Dumbrow and I had both been invited over for an evening of chitchat, which for Dumbrow usually meant falling asleep on the couch. This time, however, he kept his eyes open once he arrived but there was nothing to see. The room had been locked – I shouted to Dumbrow to break in when I heard him at the door – and there were no clues of any kind anywhere to be seen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> There were no marks on the body or disturbances or fingerprints anywhere. No witnesses, nothing. Dodd himself was a jovial fellow who was very unlikely to have committed suicide. Dumbrow was stumped by all this but, of course, this was his typical state of mind.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> When I announced that I knew precisely who the murderer was, Dumbow was floored.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What do you think I said?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “That the man wasn’t dead,” you shout. “He was just napping!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “A state of mind with which you are, no doubt, quite familiar.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “No clues, no marks, no evidence, yet you knew who did it?” you mutter, hoping for a drive-by insight. “How can that be?’<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Because </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> did it. Obviously,” Nano says.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “You? But how? You’re virtual.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “By talking the man to death,” Nano says but you can see by the glint in his eye and the tongue in his cheek that his only crime has been to tease you unmercifully.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-15126432840933098842012-06-18T06:20:00.000-07:002012-06-18T06:20:33.423-07:00Circus Murderous<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbqh3MlFJJiBQF3Yubd16j9kPPSlZ7k8fKU5z-l3LRpdOisf4b5zpbJTElPxxq1mtYLTIJb4bK_VOjJM163DsCKHKMyc6seuqjJ8TPop-Oh7s_LqOmgq0XFvYemPVY0B1dOzYvdsiqJBB/s1600/22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbqh3MlFJJiBQF3Yubd16j9kPPSlZ7k8fKU5z-l3LRpdOisf4b5zpbJTElPxxq1mtYLTIJb4bK_VOjJM163DsCKHKMyc6seuqjJ8TPop-Oh7s_LqOmgq0XFvYemPVY0B1dOzYvdsiqJBB/s1600/22.jpg" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Most people think of circus folks as a happy family of misfits but they have their own passions too, you know. I learned this once when I was called in to investigate the murder of the Tattooed Man. His body had been found inside the big top in the early morning hours but since they didn’t trust the cops, they arranged for me to help them out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> By the time my technician set me up, all the sideshow people were standing around the body: the Bearded Lady, the Fat Man, the Fish Boy, the World’s Tallest Human, the Sword Swallower, and the Strong Man. All of them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It was quite a scene as you can imagine, surrounded by some of the most unusual suspects you could ever expect to see. At first they weren’t even sure that the man had been murdered because there were no visible signs of violence. But after I studied his tattoo-covered body, I realized that someone had stabbed him right in the head of John the Baptist and that real blood was flowing from the picture. It was no leaky tattoo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> One of them had obviously attacked him as the others set up for the show but no one had seen it. And worse, none of them were seen to be carrying any kind of weapon nor was one found anywhere.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Of course, to an expert like myself, the lack of evidence is merely an inspiration and I easily figured out which one of them committed the crime.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Do you know who it was?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “My guess is that the Fat Man stuck a knife in the ground, then sat on the victim, plunging him into it!” you shout with great confidence.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “That’s quite a guess,” Nano says, “I would make you my assistant if I didn’t think it would end my career.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “You mean it was someone else?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Very much so. It was the sword swallower who had simply hidden the knife in his throat.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-80326020370520340202012-06-18T06:16:00.002-07:002012-06-18T06:16:52.786-07:00Nice Ice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAF32Aq-Pqn6QHNH87UG3po4xN6RF3klE-bKvEViP7pjIyn4WpV4gzBr3Jwr1-uPfOB3zhHvFf04GaSklyhdsc6_LdH86zyLVKJxFbxj96Um3pTkN5RY0lABXHS1qxvtxFQzo7a1yeMGzt/s1600/21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAF32Aq-Pqn6QHNH87UG3po4xN6RF3klE-bKvEViP7pjIyn4WpV4gzBr3Jwr1-uPfOB3zhHvFf04GaSklyhdsc6_LdH86zyLVKJxFbxj96Um3pTkN5RY0lABXHS1qxvtxFQzo7a1yeMGzt/s1600/21.jpg" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> When the famous Langhurst Diamond was stolen from a display in a store in Bucharest, suspicion immediately feel upon a well-known Romanian jewel thief named Janilek Ostrov. Ostrov specialized in diamonds, better known in the thief trade as ice. He had been seen at the exhibit the day before and so the cops kept him under surveillance for a day or so after that. When he bought a ticket for the overnight train to Paris, where his fence was known to live, they figured he was taking the stone there. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Luckily for them, I happened to have been shipped by FedEx to </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;">Bucharest to work for Interpol, so naturally the police arranged to take me along when they arrested Ostrov. </span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But when we burst into his compartment on the train, we found Ostrov sitting there calmly having a cigarette, leafing through a magazine, clinking the ice in his water glass. His trademark beret was perched jauntily on his head and he smiled as we confronted him. The police searched him and the compartment but found nothing at all except a small traveling kit in which he had his passport, toothbrush, address book, and a small snuffbox with a white powder in it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> With nothing to show for their efforts, the police were about to leave, when it suddenly hit me where the diamond was. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Do you know?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “The beret!” you shout like a hooter at a football game.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “No way!” Nano shouts back, mimicking your rhythm and rhyme. Then, coming back to a more sober tone for the explanation: “The ice was in the ice. He had dropped the diamond in his glass of ice water, where it was barely visible and hidden among the cubes.”</span></div>Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-28454410124356634902012-06-18T06:16:00.000-07:002012-06-18T06:16:44.156-07:00Nice Ice<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAF32Aq-Pqn6QHNH87UG3po4xN6RF3klE-bKvEViP7pjIyn4WpV4gzBr3Jwr1-uPfOB3zhHvFf04GaSklyhdsc6_LdH86zyLVKJxFbxj96Um3pTkN5RY0lABXHS1qxvtxFQzo7a1yeMGzt/s1600/21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAF32Aq-Pqn6QHNH87UG3po4xN6RF3klE-bKvEViP7pjIyn4WpV4gzBr3Jwr1-uPfOB3zhHvFf04GaSklyhdsc6_LdH86zyLVKJxFbxj96Um3pTkN5RY0lABXHS1qxvtxFQzo7a1yeMGzt/s1600/21.jpg" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> When the famous Langhurst Diamond was stolen from a display in a store in Bucharest, suspicion immediately feel upon a well-known Romanian jewel thief named Janilek Ostrov. Ostrov specialized in diamonds, better known in the thief trade as ice. He had been seen at the exhibit the day before and so the cops kept him under surveillance for a day or so after that. When he bought a ticket for the overnight train to Paris, where his fence was known to live, they figured he was taking the stone there. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Luckily for them, I happened to have been shipped by FedEx to <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Bucharest to work for Interpol, so naturally the police arranged to take me along when they arrested Ostrov. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But when we burst into his compartment on the train, we found Ostrov sitting there calmly having a cigarette, leafing through a magazine, clinking the ice in his water glass. His trademark beret was perched jauntily on his head and he smiled as we confronted him. The police searched him and the compartment but found nothing at all except a small traveling kit in which he had his passport, toothbrush, address book, and a small snuffbox with a white powder in it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> With nothing to show for their efforts, the police were about to leave, when it suddenly hit me where the diamond was. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Do you know?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “The beret!” you shout like a hooter at a football game.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “No way!” Nano shouts back, mimicking your rhythm and rhyme. Then, coming back to a more sober tone for the explanation: “The ice was in the ice. He had dropped the diamond in his glass of ice water, where it was barely visible and hidden among the cubes.”</span></div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-89457891353625162852012-06-17T13:40:00.000-07:002012-06-17T13:40:41.877-07:00The Wrong Way<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0utZukpDiilaMee3RR4p48VYfUJugPcnDvXphfiRxwSNpVTryrTIKWl7pPDFWVwx9HIRVMtLO1YeRG5ANfPWPsvMzswh0ANj-rtdzI2euQ759R0HKWDstJd2lRmhIfN9oWH4S9OH68hcm/s1600/20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0utZukpDiilaMee3RR4p48VYfUJugPcnDvXphfiRxwSNpVTryrTIKWl7pPDFWVwx9HIRVMtLO1YeRG5ANfPWPsvMzswh0ANj-rtdzI2euQ759R0HKWDstJd2lRmhIfN9oWH4S9OH68hcm/s320/20.jpg" width="316" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I hate to admit this but over the many years of our association, I have actually come to rely on Dumbrow. Not just on his summoning me like a genie but also on his uncanny ability to foul up. Perhaps that explains the occasion on which I was even able to save Dumbrow his job. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> You see, we were both part of a task force following the movements of a gang of thieves through the city. From our surveillance we knew that they were about to move a big shipment and we were determined to stop them before they could do it. The key figure was the guy who would be driving the truck. We knew who he was and we decided to pick him up, but a good legal excuse to detain him didn’t present itself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The day of the shipment was therefore very tense because it meant that the task force would have to use force to confront the gang. A very risky affair. As Dumbrow and the other cops prepped for this, I was positioned in the office with the task force leader. He was going over Dumbrow’s surveillance report, when one line in particular caught his <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">attention. According to this entry, at 11:00am Dumbrow had “observed the truck driver going the wrong way down a one-way street.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “That fool,” the team leader said, “why didn’t he arrest him then and there and save us all this? I’m going to have his head!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But I knew Dumbrow – knew him to be the literal boob that he was – and on that basis I explained to the team leader precisely why he had not arrested the driver, thus saving him his job.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What did I explain to the leader?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>______________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “That Dumbrow didn’t have his ticket book with him,” you say, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;">trying to squeeze a note of the obvious into your tone.</span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “You don’t need a ticket book to arrest someone,” Nano says slowly, as though talking to a child. “No, I am afraid it is much simpler than that; another example of the bolt of the obvious.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Meaning?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Meaning, as only Dumbrow could, that the truck driver was on foot.”</span></div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-68520219130521001122012-06-17T13:37:00.000-07:002012-06-17T13:37:08.744-07:00Sign Struck<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPe8XJzH3e9_l8R9MvTFMFCDYUgQZGg5uDoxa1Toh3KPeJAP0Onc6Ef1Ggbn_zTKjZa0sfL7cLb2GYgjly4EjGaeihTlVKQGWj5UuG3gd1F6Ws0vt7aZkMFEFowyZBw1Lne0CddL9IyMci/s1600/19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPe8XJzH3e9_l8R9MvTFMFCDYUgQZGg5uDoxa1Toh3KPeJAP0Onc6Ef1Ggbn_zTKjZa0sfL7cLb2GYgjly4EjGaeihTlVKQGWj5UuG3gd1F6Ws0vt7aZkMFEFowyZBw1Lne0CddL9IyMci/s320/19.jpg" width="205" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It was a standard high-speed chase. The usual series of hairpin turns and screeching brakes. Not my cup of tea at all. I prefer racing thoughts but in this business you have to be ready for all sorts of twists and turns.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> In this case, I happened to be on hand in the town of Highmount when Cal Pritt robbed one of the stores there. As he leaped into his car and sped out of town, Dumbrow tossed me into his old Yugo and gave chase. We knew he was heading to Lowmount but had to intercept him before he got there and was lost in the crowds.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It was a fairly thrilling race across the sylvan hillside but we could never quite catch up with the dashing thief. I thought we had him when he stopped his car for a moment, but by the time we got to that spot, he was gone again. Thankfully, to break the monotony, Pritt had left me with a braintwiddler instead.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The spot was a crossroads where six different roads came together. In the middle of the intersection was a sign, one of those crowded posts with the names of ten different towns and arrows pointing you off in the right direction.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But Pritt had cleverly pulled out the signpost and left it lying on the ground. We had no map and didn’t know the area at all. All we did know was that we had to get to Lowmount fast.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Dumbrow was dumbfounded.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Not me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> How did I know which way to go?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “You took a random guess!” you shout, eager to get one right for a change. Eager but not successful.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “A fine idea when there’s no alternative,” Nano says kindly,” but in this case there was. I simply put the signpost back in the hole and turned it so that it faced the right direction.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “But how did you know which way to face it?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “I may not have known which direction the towns were, but I certainly knew the direction of Highmount, where I came from. Once I lined the arrow for Highmount up correctly, I knew the rest would be right.”</span></div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-84618994954472861822012-06-17T13:33:00.000-07:002012-06-17T13:33:29.784-07:00Nasty Stamps<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioSE815y7yHo14_35x19po6KjEt4_8R0A_mmzree5vmfvgqf-g39KUg7GzLGdLUWqBiHijReD83zXJayvsaqvnSOqYRy2ZMUEC5Tqhag_X9UCkjKZI2wQ5_7yhPQm2qbjfsfcHfU6sVukx/s1600/18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioSE815y7yHo14_35x19po6KjEt4_8R0A_mmzree5vmfvgqf-g39KUg7GzLGdLUWqBiHijReD83zXJayvsaqvnSOqYRy2ZMUEC5Tqhag_X9UCkjKZI2wQ5_7yhPQm2qbjfsfcHfU6sVukx/s320/18.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I don’t usually get involved in politics, but Senator Fullright was the only candidate who thought that thinking was a virtue. So he had my vote. And I also agreed to do some volunteer work for him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> That’s how I ended up in his campaign headquarters directing some of the fund-raising activities. But on that day all they were doing was stuffing and mailing envelopes with PR material in them. The problem was that there was no water and the volunteers were facing a morning licking a thousand stamps to put on as many envelopes. Tedious work, not mention unsavory, but that’s politics for you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Imagine how happy I was when this dumb little chore turned into a classic braintwiddler!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Before we began, a call came in from one of the Senator’s rabid detractors. To protest the rise of thinking, this lunatic had arranged to deliver a batch of poisoned stamps! They weren’t deadly, just vile enough to make the licker sick and tired of the status quo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> There was a panic in the office as everyone realized that the morning’s fund-raising efforts were doomed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But I assured them that this was not the case at all. There was a simple way around the problem.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Do you know what it is?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nano Solution</span></span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “I don’t suppose you had them coat their tongues with antidote first,” you guess.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “You don’t suppose correctly!” Nano says with glee. “What I told them to do was to lick the envelopes, not the stamps!”</span></div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-71319504210192557212012-06-17T13:26:00.001-07:002012-06-17T13:29:06.300-07:00Island Quandary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15MTxYOV3xaTEK3TTupmfK1hNtV2y2ucpfznUshGkWtA09wFfnDROyVdqo5eELSZkdXrj31spHCSFFTdVsE857uUzm1UXB8qGx1bCOtIsD589PY05V8HwAng22ZQg9WsVq9AmvPDodPIw/s1600/17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15MTxYOV3xaTEK3TTupmfK1hNtV2y2ucpfznUshGkWtA09wFfnDROyVdqo5eELSZkdXrj31spHCSFFTdVsE857uUzm1UXB8qGx1bCOtIsD589PY05V8HwAng22ZQg9WsVq9AmvPDodPIw/s320/17.jpg" width="216" /></span></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The thieves in the Gold International job must have thought they were being terribly clever. They had highjacked one of the armored cars, tossed out the guard and driver, and driven off before anyone knew what was going on. Their haul that day was one million dollars, stashed inside a safe.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Rather than waste time opening the safe, they buried it with the money inside on an island 100 yards out in the middle of Lake Idyll. In order to do that, they had to abandon the truck on the shore of the lake, then paddle off to safety in a tiny inflatable boat, planning to return weeks later to open the safe when things cooled down.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But the cops got lucky. A helicopter pilot looking for the missing truck spotted the inflatable and noticed that there was no fishing gear on board. So the cops picked up the thieves who eventually told them where the safe could be found. That left only one question. A minor one, to be sure, but it was still braintwiddling enough.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> How did the thieves get the heavy metal safe from the truck on the shore to the island 100 yards in the middle of the lake? It was much too heavy to float across in the inflatable.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The thieves weren’t talking so the cops were stumped. But by taking a very simple course of action, I solved the problem. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What did I do?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nano Solution</span></span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Was it one of those new-fangled floating safes?” you ask.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “No such animal,” Nano says. “All I had to do to solve this one was wait.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “For what?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Low tide. At which point there was a very helpful land bridge all the way to the island which the thieves used to drive the truck there and back!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-51327373610549811922012-06-17T13:23:00.000-07:002012-06-17T13:23:39.862-07:00Even Steven<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBlZuwrD3JQe1aWLSQeTy80uojiCOWHY-QNwAPwJsADBcAN9Paf7X0qzXCtII9XES4VCf5lE3a4ywJd5OPqxQcVtSgvBe4oA7qtm71FSMVthFxq75UfvnWB2fdZMY0qX5MUXQwpWp2KpO9/s1600/16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBlZuwrD3JQe1aWLSQeTy80uojiCOWHY-QNwAPwJsADBcAN9Paf7X0qzXCtII9XES4VCf5lE3a4ywJd5OPqxQcVtSgvBe4oA7qtm71FSMVthFxq75UfvnWB2fdZMY0qX5MUXQwpWp2KpO9/s320/16.jpg" width="168" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> My reputation for brilliant insight, as you can see, has gotten me into some pretty peculiar situations. I was once even consulted by a gang of thieves to help them solve a dilemma.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The Burgle brothers had just ripped off a huge amount of cash from an armored car. The robbery itself went fine but back at their hideout they ran into a different problem. No matter how they worked it, they couldn’t figure out a way to divide the cash fairly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Because of the way the hideout was set up, one of them had to keep watch at all times. That meant that one of the brothers was on lookout while the other one counted out the money. But neither one trusted the other to divide the stack of bills evenly. And they were running out of time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Knowing about my work from one of their underworld friends, they had me delivered and asked my advice about the situation. Could I come up with a solution to the dilemma? While I certainly didn’t support their criminal activities, I could not very well ignore the obvious solution to the problem. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Can you figure out what it was?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “This is an easy one,” you say. “You went down and counted the money for them!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Easier than that!” Nano says, with a jaunty toss of his head. “I simply told them to make a deal. Let one brother count out the money into two piles, then let the other brother pick which pile he wanted. Think about it!”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-30996423625733414672012-06-17T07:30:00.000-07:002012-06-17T07:30:27.167-07:00Foul Play<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga6W-Zc3AC6tAg4u1jsx4xzhCMkFgk3G5CYjNIh72I1ndEl7Hmno5rHfTvTEcQuD2HB2A1bCTIKw7MYqQxebQOJco4i8F2ynXGpr26DVvfR-E8Z5eHz0A8pHmGIGfuVBRmCYQ9iY-P-0Ps/s1600/15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga6W-Zc3AC6tAg4u1jsx4xzhCMkFgk3G5CYjNIh72I1ndEl7Hmno5rHfTvTEcQuD2HB2A1bCTIKw7MYqQxebQOJco4i8F2ynXGpr26DVvfR-E8Z5eHz0A8pHmGIGfuVBRmCYQ9iY-P-0Ps/s1600/15.jpg" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> This next little twiddler proves that you don’t have to actually be a moron to think like one. Which is always refreshingly insightful. I was having lunch with Sergeant Dumbrow – watching him eat, that is, since I do not technically have either an appetite nor a stomach – when one of his rookies burst in on us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The rookie had been eating at one of the other booths in the diner and had overheard a conversation at the next table. He said that the three men there were obviously talking about a robbery that had just been committed. And since they hadn’t left yet, there was still time to nail them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Dumbrow calmly asked the rookie to explain what he had heard and the young man did so with relish to prove his attentiveness. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “I heard one of them mention something about a big score,” he said, “and that’s what made me suspicious. So I listened more carefully. Two of them were bragging to the third man about it, arguing over who would tell the story. One of them said that since he had stolen first, he should tell the story. Then he went on to describe how he was crouching and waiting and when a man arrived at home, he whipped off his mask and lunged at him. I heard him say the word safe, Chief. Have there been any robberies in the area lately?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Dumbrow frowned. I laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What do you think?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Nano Solution</span></i></b>_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “That the rookie himself was part of the scheme!” you shout triumphantly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Why do you think that?” Nano asks. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Because I couldn’t think of anything else,” you admit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Well, better to goof than sit there like a goofball,” Nano says kindly. “Luckily I realized right away that the men in the booth weren’t talking about robbery at all. They were discussing a baseball game. The man talking had stolen first base. Then, waiting at home plate, whipped off his catcher’s mask and lunged at the runner going home. He missed, and the umpire shouted safe!”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-39670000927430743582012-06-17T07:27:00.000-07:002012-06-17T07:27:37.328-07:00Grand Opera<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZx49m62if9UXwAHp3b83cPTAHrZaWQHBtmu4vD9kpz5pge_khrH5K227M4aywKMsx15z91XbPh39nqBXC5LZ_IsAvs4iVz3Kol6xRoDZSuLriNOyJvP1vAZSLv-HSBDTsJD8nqa1_Z-a/s1600/14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZx49m62if9UXwAHp3b83cPTAHrZaWQHBtmu4vD9kpz5pge_khrH5K227M4aywKMsx15z91XbPh39nqBXC5LZ_IsAvs4iVz3Kol6xRoDZSuLriNOyJvP1vAZSLv-HSBDTsJD8nqa1_Z-a/s320/14.jpg" width="227" /></span></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Remember Heidelberg, the city of spies? I had another interesting encounter there, during an opera at the famous Pallasa Musika. I was hoping for an evening’s relief from my usual challenges; even virtual <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">detectives need time off. But once the State Police found me in attendance, they naturally dragged me into another of their intrigues.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> They were tracking Emile Buquet, the double agent, and knew that someone was going to pass the number of a secret bank account to him. It was a simple three-digit number.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> So the police watched him like a hawk. But nothing much happened. He waited quietly on line at the ticket booth with all the other theatergoers. He removed his hat and checked it, just like everyone else, when the clerk at the booth explained that this was a new policy of the theater. Then he took the ticket he was given and went to his seat in one of the upper balconies.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The seats around him were occupied by undercover police and they swore that no one passed anything to him, or spoke to him, or signaled him in any way. He didn’t even get opera glasses.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Yet soon after the performance began, Emile left the theater in a hurry and the police knew he had gotten the code number. But from where?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> When I asked the manager of the theater a very simple question, his answer suggested that the clerk himself was Emile’s accomplice and had given him the information.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Do you know how he did it?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nano Solution</span></span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">_____________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Did he give him a ticket with the number on it?” you ask, meekly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Quite direct and quite wrong,” Nano says. “Braintwiddlers are never that simple. Instead, I asked the manager if it was standard policy to have patrons check their hats. When he said it was a special policy for just that evening, I realized what was up. The clerk was giving bald men certain seats in the orchestra section. The pattern of their bald heads – like pixels on a screen – was spelling out the code number when seen from high in the balcony.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409250742531114159.post-20624073175974340252012-06-17T07:24:00.000-07:002012-06-17T07:24:50.116-07:00The Last Lap<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1n-e6fnltrPAIQ0iqll7P71aUg2JXfrFU7MA0QXY83c2ryh5Uh4SWHDQyO_rws8X3KrT2M2YT8jU4noYeDFXFx6kzNUX4j07dofk4ToD0Mba9rzNQpo3HdJ99EbPIkVIJ5jgQQ0BOKp_/s1600/13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1n-e6fnltrPAIQ0iqll7P71aUg2JXfrFU7MA0QXY83c2ryh5Uh4SWHDQyO_rws8X3KrT2M2YT8jU4noYeDFXFx6kzNUX4j07dofk4ToD0Mba9rzNQpo3HdJ99EbPIkVIJ5jgQQ0BOKp_/s1600/13.jpg" /></a></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The body was floating face down in the pool like a gruesome raft. It belonged to Eleazar Longshore, one of the owners of the health club. He was an older man, in his seventies, but in fairly good shape, and wearing a serious swimsuit. That’s why I found it hard to believe that he drowned while doing his morning laps. Even though, as Sergeant Dumbrow proudly pointed out, the old man had a huge bump on his head that he apparently got from hitting it against the side of the pool. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> On the morning of his death, the elevator man recalled picking Longshore up from his penthouse apartment and taking him down to the 6th floor health club in the building. That was at 8:30 a.m. The elevator man remembered the time clearly because Longshore, who was hard of hearing, asked him to repeat it three or four times as he tapped the hearing aid in his ear.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Because the club was closed at that hour, Longshore had to open the door with one of his keys and let himself into the pool.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It was all rather straightforward but then I found out that Longshore was literally in over his head. There was a stock scandal brewing and Longshore had been arguing with his partners all week about divulging it. That made his death awfully coincidental.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> So I studied the dead man’s head a little more carefully and found something that convinced me that he had, in fact, been murdered!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Can you guess what it was?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nano Solution</span></span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">______________________________________________<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><br />
</div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “You didn’t by any chance examine his temple and find a large kitchen knife sticking out?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="Noparagraphstyle"><span style="line-height: 120%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Nice try,” Nano says. “No, it was the fact that he was still wearing his hearing aid. Since no one would go swimming with a hearing aid, that suggested that Longshore was killed in the locker room and dumped in the pool to make it look like an accident. The elevator man had a lot more explaining to do.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Alan Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11931223050937847552noreply@blogger.com0