Featuring: Inspector Gasgonnoff Isnoton: The Case [...] that wasn't Solved

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Featuring: Another Inspector Gasgonnoff Isnoton Investigation

The Case Of The Case That Wasn't Solved

It was on one of those days, one that resembles a day of the week. I know this to be fact because I'd seen one before, but couldn't work out if it was related to the others I'd seen that were the same, or, if it was the same one repeating itself; it did appear to be on a
recurrent seven-day cycle, and this would need constant monitoring to verify.

I'd been called in – now this made me wonder, as my name is Gasgonnoff and my I.D. Card showed this to be correct – because for a number of years I had to take my parents' word for it, mainly because I thought it was Ononotimagain! I still get called that often, which also worries me, because it's usually my fellow police associates who say it when I walk in a room. I keep looking round for an oriental-type person, and for the life of me, I can't think how they could mistake me for being oriental in stature, and I don't eat Chinese or far East foods often in any case -– I usually eat them from a plate.

After my last case, I tended to be given seemingly impossible crimes to solve. Well, actually not in the plural sense of 'crimes', as this was the first one since that last one and the Chief Inspector said that all avenues of this crime had come up empty:

'So, just to look like we're doing something, give it to whatisname!'

Now I'm pretty good at puzzles of all kinds, but HOW did the Chief Inspector's secretary know to give it to me? I'd looked in the police computer and there wasn't anyone in the entire force called Whatisname. I made a note of this in my new notebook, just in case there was someone in the force that resembled me and it might have been a case of mistaken identity. This had happened before during my last case, where finally, after many visits to places I don't care to mention, many injections and electric shock therapy, wearing funny white thermal coats with long arms, even in summer!?!...

I eventually convinced a host of doctors who I was!

So, now in my office, I started to look over the documents of the case. Where? I laughed to myself, as looking OVER the documents wouldn't be of help, I had to open the folders and read the contents.

I had been given carte blanche on this case, but, before I go any further I'll look that up. I'm not sure if that's an after dinner trifle or some form of wine; I don't drink wine for starters, or at any time in fact.

Now! My powers of deduction and skills came to the fore, or was it five? No! The clock on the office wall was showing 3.20pm, so I was wrong. The only witness to this crime was reported as dead on arrival. This was my first line of enquiry, as to find if it was a train station, airfield or port where this witness arrived at. I was hampered from the beginning. I didn't sleep well the night before and overlooked the fact that whilst checking the various timetables and log-ins, I needed the name of the witness and NOT just 'dead on'. This was a very bad oversight on my part, and I fined myself accordingly for not being in-attendance to my duties.

Duly noting that the witness hadn't said anything to the officers at the scene, after finding out this snippet of information, I proceeded to follow up those who had had the crime perpetuated against them, to see if I could glean more information than they had originally given to the investigating team. But before I proceeded to do that, a thought showed itself. 'Inspector said that all avenues of this crime had come up empty'. Now no one had said anything about any streets, lanes, or roads, even. This could take a little time, plus 'come up empty'? So what was in those avenues at the time of the crime?

This meant a trip to the morgue to check the files on the post mortem of the dead witness. Having got there, I found that the doors were locked, but all the lights were on. I rapped at the door and windows, only to hear voices saying no one was in and to go away, which convinced me that the place was empty, otherwise someone would have come to the door.

It's a little suspicious though, as many places I go to seem to have people about, but it all goes silent by my arrival... maybe it's just my imagination, those dreams and visions I had haven't reappeared at any time, the medication I'm taking for that flu they said I had – even though the flu had gone – I still have to take it as a preventative. There can't be any side effects from it, or I'd have noticed any change in my psychic something or other.

This case had all the hallmarks of an undercover, covert operation by one of our secret services departments, that could be very difficult to solve, even for a great mind like mine! But, not impossible for the same reason.

Now to the case in hand, errmm! I don't own a case and this lead to three hours of pondering, but nothing came to mind, so I'll go and question some of the names in the file I had been given. I felt like I was coming up against a brick wall - 'OUCH!' I was - and it hurt, I'd never had a case like this before, it seemed that all the witnesses to the crime were from the same place, 'deceased', and after looking it up in a dictionary, they were all dead as well! Now that is either a coincidence, or that place has one hell of a crime rate!

So, this meant a visit to the secret service department, once I could find out where it was, I needed to see the person who made the initial crime report out. Now don't get me wrong, I like animals, but I couldn't understand one of my colleagues when I asked him if he knew where the secret service department was and he replied, 'You're on a wild goose chase'! And, looking again at the file, there wasn't a mention about ANY animals been involved in the incident. The poor man must be suffering fatigue or something, I'm sure I overheard him say I'm quacking upagain. Another colleague further baffled me by saying I'm barking mad, I
had a little cough, but I certainly wasn't barking and I don't get angry.

I had a tip off, not really a tip off as such, but I heard my boss say, 'He wants to go back to the asylum'. Now, could this be a cover for the secret service department? Because while I was there before, many of the attendants kept saying 'Keep him in the dark'. So this could be a breakthrough in solving the case and as I didn't have any other leads, I must follow this up. But before I do, I'll take extra precautions in proving my identity, so I'll take photographs of myself with my police inspectors' badge and certificates – including all the paperwork that was accumulated from the false stay I had before. A brilliant idea came to me, I will have 'I am Inspector Gasgonnoff Isnoton' tattooed on my arm, then I can show them I'm me – and if I get confused I'll still know I'm me!!

To cover myself, but why? It wasn't raining out, nor was bad weather forecast, I informed my superior where and what I was going to do, then if anything undue happened I could get verification from him and they'd have to let me go. I don't hold a grudge, but I think that some of the orderlies there enjoyed giving the treatments out. But this time I was not going to be a patient. I would be investigating an unsolved crime and would be only interviewing the staff.

Pulling up outside and then ringing the doorbell, a rather large gentleman came to the door, who had the appearance of a wrestler come pit bull terrier, but spoke in a sort of far away tone, said:

'Please come in. We've been expecting you.'

I was taken aback. How did he know I was coming, had my Chief phoned them? He must have.

I walked over to the reception desk and asked the receptionist could I please speak to the manager of the establishment on a matter of a police investigation, she replied that he was on his way and that Rufus would escort me to the room they had ready for me. I thought, yes! My Chief had phoned them and everything was being prepared for an interview room for me to conduct my investigation. But, then I was starting to panic slightly, as from the corner of the foyer two extra orderlies were coming in my direction carrying one of those long-sleeved coats

I said, 'I don't have a cold! And I'm still taking that medication from my last visit when you made the mistake of my identity!'

The receptionist said, 'It's House Rules.'

I tried to run, but started yawning and feeling very groggy – Oh, no! Not again!!!!


Dick Calamity Private Eye

This was a momentous Monday morning occasion, as Dick saw his name printed on the glass panelled door to his Detective Agency – "Dick Calamity – Private Eye'. This was his first day as a private eye since he had left the police force, telling people that he had to resign through ill health. But the truth is, if he hadn't, half the force would have shot him had he stayed! He was actually more of a danger to the force than most of the crooks were; accident prone is not the two words his Captain would have used.

So, with a large smile on his face, he walked through the door – not the best start of the day – he should have opened it first. The secretary he had hired from the typist agency just sat at her desk, looked and said nothing; let's just say that he went to the cheapest agency and her skills will run true to form.

'Get the repairman on to that, will you Miss ... err?

She said, 'My name isn't Err, it's Floris! Floris Rapidly, but everyone calls me Flo. And you got a client in your office Mr Calamity.' to which Dick replied:

'Well, just call me DC – or Dick when we're alone, okay?'

Going into his office... and this time he opened the door first... but then walked into the door jamb as he had turned to ask Flo to make a pot of coffee.

There, sat in front of him, was a voluptuous blonde and while she was telling him why she wanted a Private Eye, Calamity was looking in his atlas to find where Voluptuous was.


What?? Something very strange... peculiar, even... had happened!

I'd woken up to find myself in a different story. This was very disconcerting, to say the least, as I remembered the men in white coats once again mistaking me for someone else, and now I'm really confused, but knowing in my mind who I was. I wanted a second opinion, so I looked at my arm to where I'd had the tattoo of my name put and saw 'You're not Inspector Gasgonnoff Isnoton. You're Dick Calamity – Private Eye'. Well! That did it for me; there was now no doubt in my mind that I had it wrong all the time and now knew why the men in white coats kept mistaking me for someone else, because I WAS that someone else!

I asked the manager (because he was dressed in a pinstriped suit) if I could now leave, as I must have been a burden on them, and that I realised I must have had some form of breakdown, maybe due to stress. He said: 'In a day or two,' as before I became ill, I was having the decorators give my offices a makeover, I accepted his word, but as I'd only just walked into the new office surely it was spick and span to start with? I could question Flo Rapidly when I get back, just to be sure.

Still! Not to worry, everything will come back to me. I just hope I don't get any cases like the Inspector had, not that I'll have any trouble solving crimes, being Dick Calamity – Private Eye. Seems strange hearing that name, I wonder where I came from? Mmmmmh! Could be my first case when I've had a rest and finished this new course of cough medicine. Funny things, House Rules aren't they?

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