Inspector B.E. cracks the Spinny Thing case

Part 5 - The Dramatic Conclusion!

In late August a mysterious orb began appearing all over Concordia. Dubbed 'Spinny Thing', it was photographed in various locations around town, and even tailgated at a K-State football game.
Some people thought it was an alien probe observing life on Earth; others thought it was a work of art; still others called it names unfit for print.
To get to the bottom of the mystery, the Blade Investigative Team was called back into action. They created an alias for themselves - Inspector B.E., modeled after Sherlock Holmes - and set to work.
The Inspector quickly proved that Spinny Thing was a lawn ornament stolen from Jim and Joann Haist's front yard. That was good. He then named John Hamel as the culprit. That was not so good, because Hamel was innocent.
The 'Case Of The Spinny Thing' had now dragged on for five weeks, which was about four weeks too long for most Blade readers. The Inspector needed to bring the case to a quick end, because the credit card he stole from Jim Lowell had been cancelled.
After an exhaustive examination of the facts, and a willingness to make up whatever other facts he needed, Inspector B.E. finally zeroed in on a real suspect: Blade writer Russell Gagnon.
Since childhood, Gagnon had a history of pulling pranks and making it look like someone else was to blame. The Inspector intended to confront him about Spinny Thing.
To prepare for the showdown, the Inspector watched a lot of real-life police interrogations on YouTube. He was interrupted by a sudden knock at his front door. Mailman Troy Willoughby was standing on the porch with a package. It was twenty-one degrees outside, with a wind chill of three-below. Willoughby was wearing shorts.
The Inspector signed for the package, brought it inside and opened it.
The Sherlock Holmes wardrobe had arrived!
The Inspector donned the Inverness cape, tilted the Deerstalker cap on his head at a jaunty angle, and clamped the Briar pipe in his mouth. As he preened in front of the mirror, his confidence soared. He wasn't much of a detective, but now he at least looked the part.
On October 4th, a little before noon, the Inspector arrived at the Blade office for his showdown with Gagnon. He wasn't worried about being late, because Gagnon never bothered to come to work until mid-afternoon.
The Blade office was humming with activity as the Inspector sat at Gagnon's empty desk and waited for his quarry to appear. Bella Lugosi appeared first, lumbering around the corner of the desk. The cat looked like it had put on another ten pounds.
Bella meowed a greeting and somehow hefted itself on top of the desk, where it proceeded to swat Gagnon's things on to the floor with its paws. When Bella tired of that, it plopped down on the Inspector's arm, nearly breaking it.
"What are you doing at my desk?" a voice suddenly thundered, and the Inspector spun around in the chair. Unfortunately, his arm was still pinned under the cat. Worse, the hem of his Inverness cape caught on the chair leg.
He tumbled to the floor.
Gagnon, coffee cup in hand, stared down at him. "You have all the grace of a Sumo wrestler," he said.
The Inspector quickly got to his feet. "I want to ask you a few questions, Mr. Gagnon."
Gagnon's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "About what?"
Hoping to strike a note of fear, the Inspector puffed on his Briar pipe and tried to look intimidating. As soap bubbles rose out of the pipe bowl, he said: "We're going to talk about Spinny Thing."
Gagnon's face lit up with a smile. "Well, why didn't you say so," he said pleasantly, and motioned to the empty chair. "Please, have a seat."
The Inspector fluffed out his cape to sit on the chair. A split second before his butt hit the padded seat... Gagnon pulled the chair away. The Inspector spilled on to the floor again.
"Not this chair," Gagnon said, still smiling. "This one's mine."
As the Inspector got to his feet and dusted himself off, Gagnon cocked an eyebrow at him.
"You do realize how weird this is," Gagnon said. "Me... being interviewed by you."
The Inspector agreed, but suggested Gagnon just roll with it. This was the final installment of the Spiny Thing story, and the writer needed two more pages of typed copy for the Friday newspaper.
"Let's start at the beginning," the Inspector said. "On the night of August 20th, at the Jim and Joann Haist house--"
"I've got an alibi," Gagnon interrupted.
"You don't even know what I was going to ask you."
"Doesn't make any difference," Gagnon said. "Pick a date and time; I've got an alibi."
"Very well then. On September 20th Spinny Thing photobombed the Joke Of The Year contest winner outside the Blade office--"
"Alibi," Gagnon interrupted again. "Nathan LaBarge and Ty Gennette can verify that I was the one who took the Joke Of The Year photograph. So how could I take the photo AND be Spinny Thing at the same time?"
The Inspector couldn't argue with that.
"Okay then, Mr. Gagnon, explain this: at the K-State/Mississippi State football game, Spinny Thing was photographed tailgating in the parking lot."
"34 eyewitnesses can verify that I was sitting at the Easy G bar in Concordia watching the game when Spinny Thing was in Manhattan."
The Inspector felt his confidence waning. He tried to regroup.
"Your pass code was used to enter Dumbbells late at night, Mr. Gagnon. That same night, Spinny Thing was videotaped working out at the gym. Explain that damning piece of evidence, sir!"
"Easy. My pass code for the gym is my birthdate: 0401. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out. Somebody hacked it and stole it."
Another good answer.
The Inspector was now forced grasp at straws. He thought back to the police interrogations he'd watched on YouTube. The cops sometimes fudged the truth and twisted facts in order to trap a suspect. The Inspector was not one to let the truth get in the way of a good story, so....
"I'm sorry to tell you this, Mr. Gagnon," he said, "but I have photographs in my possession that show you with Spinny Thing."
Gagnon shrugged, unconcerned. "Okay, you have photographs. Do you also have eyewitnesses who can corroborate the photographs?" Gagnon smiled again. "This is the Technology Age, Inspector. Photographs are easily faked. Show me a hundred photos of Spinny Thing, and I'll get a hundred different experts to swear the've all been tampered with. Photographs are now viewed with suspicion by courts of law. To prove something, you need an eyewitness who can verify what's seen in the photo. Do you have any eyewitnesses who saw me with Spinny Thing?"
The Inspector was forced to admit he did not.
"Then all you've got is a piece of evidence that's questionable, at best," Gagnon said. "Any lawyer worth his salt would tear that evidence to shreds in front of a jury."
The Inspector felt his last glimmer of hope slip away. Gagnon must have sensed his despair, because he edged close, sympathetic.
"Let me help you out here, Inspector," Gagnon said. "Consider the possibility that Dan Haist is behind all this nonsense."
The Inspector was taken aback. Dan Haist? The son of Jim and Joann Haist, whose lawn ornament was stolen in the first place?
"That seems a bit absurd," the Inspector said.
"And that's exactly why you should take a closer look," Gagnon replied. "Haist has been trying to get back at me since our Sophomore year in high school, when me and Gerald Sorell threw 157 paper airplanes out the window of our Math class. When our teacher saw the debris pile on the grass... he blamed Dan Haist for it." Gagnon nodded sagely. "Spinny Thing could be a revenge prank planned by Dan Haist. Always remember, Inspector: the one person you should suspect the most is the one person you least expect to suspect."
Gagnon walked away humming a jaunty tune, leaving the Inspector demoralized. He didn't know what to believe now. Was it really possible, what Gagnon said? Could the entire Spinny Thing be an elaborate prank by Dan Haist?
The Inspector only knew one thing for certain: the investigation was about to collapse in his face.
And that's when a miracle occurred.
Just like the Goat On The Roof story a year ago, when all seemed lost... a phone call changed the course of the entire investigation.
The Inspector's cell phone rang. He glumly dug it out of his pocket. "This is Inspector B.E."
"Listen to me, Inspector, and listen good," an ominous voice said over the phone. "Spinny Thing wants to meet you."
The Inspector nearly fell out of his chair again. He frantically searched Gagnon's desk for a pen and paper to write with. "I'm listening! Tell me where and when?"
The ominous voice gave an address on Archer Street, and a time: ten o'clock.
"And come alone, Inspector," the ominous voice warned, "or else."
The call was disconnected.
At the appointed hour, the Inspector waited at the address on Archer Street as instructed. 10 minutes passed... 15 minutes....
"Don't turn around," the ominous voice suddenly warned from behind.
The Inspector froze in place. "Okay."
"Look across the street. What do you see?"
The Inspector squinted in the dim light. "Not much," he said. "It's really dark out."
"You idiot, that's Jim and Joann Haist's house. Look at their front porch."
The Inspector peered through the darkness... and then he saw it!
Spinny Thing was on the front porch! There was a note attached. The Inspector pulled out his cell phone, activated its flashlight app and shined it on the note.

DEAR JIM AND JOANN,
I'M BACK! I HOPE YOU DIDN'T WORRY. I JUST WANTED TO SEE THE SIGHTS AROUND TOWN FOR AWHILE. IT WAS A GREAT ADVENTURE! BUT NOW I'M HAPPY TO BE BACK HOME WHERE I BELONG.
PLEASE TELL YOUR SON DAN THAT I ESPECIALLY ENJOYED VISITING THE FUTURE SITE OF THE 'DANO MANSION'. ONE GOOD PRANK DESERVES ANOTHER.
SPINNY THING

"Do you want to know who was behind all this, Inspector?" the ominous voice said. "Think about it: Spinny Thing started popping up everywhere in the weeks leading up to Fall Fest. Now Fall Fest is over, and its back in the Haist's front yard. What was the one common denominator in the entire Fall Fest celebration?"
"The parade?" the Inspector suggested.
"Not the parade, dummy. The reunions. There were five separate class reunions that weekend. Take a good look at one class in particular. That's where you'll find the answer you're looking for."
The Inspector was perplexed.  "What do you mean by that?"
But this time his question was answered only by silence and the chirp of crickets.
"Uh... hello, sir...?"
The Inspector still got no response. Despite the warning he'd been given, he risked a peek over his shoulder.
The street was empty. The ominous voice - and whoever it belonged to - was gone.
The Inspector took a final look at Spinny Thing, back where it belonged with the Haists, then turned and walked away. As he made his way down Archer Street to his car, he thought about what the ominous voice had told him: "The class reunions... one class in particular...."
It takes months of planning to organize a class reunion. That's a lot of time to plan other things, as well. Like a game of hide-and-seek with a lawn ornament.
The Inspector considered the people he'd come across during the investigation: Russell Gagnon... Dan Haist... Gerald Sorell... Galen LaBarge. They had known each other since childhood; they all went to school together; they all graduated together in 1978. They'd been playing pranks on each other since they were in Kindergarten.
And they just had their 40-year class reunion.
The Inspector lurched to a stop in the middle of the street. The motive was suddenly crystal clear. And now that he knew the motive, the Inspector also knew precisely who the culprits were behind the Spinny Thing saga.
The entire CHS Class of 1978 did it.
Case closed.