Author: Paul Tomblin

I just got woken up by Buddy barking, and then a knock on the door. I looked out the window and there was a cop car on the road. I was pretty groggy, and I went to the door. Of course the dog was barking at the wrong door – he’s so helpful at times. The policeman wanted me to step outside, and I asked if I could put my pants on first. He said that would be fine. He led me out to the end of the driveway where in the gutter was a very large knife, and asked me if it was mine or if I knew anything about it. And not just any knife, but what a TV watcher would probably think of as a criminal’s knife. The handle was covered in duct tape, and the blade had no discernable edge – you know how a store-bought knife has some sort of break-point between where the blade is just flat metal and where it tapers to the edge? There was nothing like that. All in all, it was a nasty looking piece of work. It rained last night, so I bet they don’t get much forensic stuff from it, but I can see as I started to write this that the other police are arriving.