Who Did It?--Episode 1

[John Jude Farragut]

Here's the second episode of "Who Did It?" (It wasn't supposed to say "Episode 1," by the way.) Because some vital clues are omitted, this mystery is a lot harder to solve. There are two key phrases to look out for; they're toward the end of the story.

Good luck!

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Who Did It?

Episode 2

by John Jude Farragut

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As the blackness gave way, the fog in his eyes burned off. His senses were rekindled abruptly; searing pain was shooting up and down his leg. He dared not keep his eyes open another second; but, maybe he was in Heaven. No. He was somewhere awful--he had to be. The fiery glow of the setting sun added no cheer to the taupe walls surrounding him. He tried to put a hand over his eyes, but right as he budged it, flaming pain immobilized his whole arm.

As his heavy eyelids clasped shut, he gritted his teeth and hoped that the torment would pass quickly. His entire arm felt as if it were burning. He tried to figure out where he was; he didn't have the nerve to ask. All he knew was that he was sprawled upon a hospital bed, his left leg hoisted up and bandaged in a gigantic cast.

How did he get this way? He didn't know. Everything was a blur--an indescribable blur.

"Mario?" The voice was feminine and concerned. "Mario?"

"Ugh-h-h," he droned, barely able to speak. With all his strength, he opened his bleary eyes once more and saw a pink Yoshi standing over him. "What--what happened to me? Who--who are you?"

"Dr. Medina, Mushroom City General Hospital. What is your name?"

"M--Mario Fovignolo. My middle name's Francisco." After a moment, a confused look spread across Mario's face. "What am I doing all the way in Mushroom City? I'm supposed to be back in--Toad Town."

"You don't remember anything?"

Mario shook his head sluggishly. "Nothing that--that makes any sense. I--I was driving out of downtown when I lost control of my car. Nothing hit it or anything. Then--I woke up here. Doctor, what happened to me?"

"Your left tibia is fractured, and your right shoulder is dislocated."

Mario's stomach churned. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"For five hours. You crashed your car into a light pole. You woke up just before we took you into orthopedic surgery."

"Huh. I don't even remember what street I was on." Mario exhaled, not daring to budge an inch of his body. Every time he tried to move himself just a little, immobilizing pain flared up and wouldn't go away.

"Your car crashed on the corner of Mead and Patterson," sighed the doctor.

"That's here in Mushroom City. I remember--I-I was going there to do something. There was--my brother was in trouble! Doctor," continued Mario, gearing to push himself up off the bed, "you have to call the--A-a-agh!!"

"Lie back!" scolded the doctor gently.

Mario gritted his teeth and stifled an agonized scream. "Doctor," he strained, "listen. You need to call the police. Something is going on. I can't tell you what it is exactly, but it's serious. I was on my way to the police station when my car crashed."

"An officer is headed here right now. He saw you crash your car."

"I actually need to talk to a detective. His name's David Wilder, a Koopa friend of mine. I've been in touch with him for the past five months." After a pause, Mario added, "I wish I could tell you what you want to know."

The Yoshi didn't reply. The burdened look in her blue eyes couldn't be hidden. She cared about Mario--just as she cared about all of her patients just the same--but, the difference was that long before Mario awoke in Recovery, she knew that something was seriously wrong.

"I can't give you information without placing you in danger," continued Mario, his voice strengthening. "All I can say is how thankful I am that you all are here. You saved my life." After a burdened sigh, he said, "Maybe I'm safer here than I am back at home."

* * *

Sirens wailed outside the estate on Toadstool Way. Five police cars lined up side-to-side along the curb near Mario's house. Without hesitation, five pairs of Toads in uniform leapt out of the vehicles. One of the Toads flashed a bullhorn, called out a name, and announced, "We have the estate surrounded. Come out of the building with your hands on your head."

"Jim, I don't get this. It's just not like him," stated one of the officers resolutely.

"I don't get it, either, but the evidence doesn't lie. We've got both video and audio confirming his role in this rash of burglaries. We can't get around that. It's been five straight months."

After a few seconds, Jim repeated his message into the bullhorn, this time with more force. There was nothing happening inside the house--probably nothing that they could see on their end.

"Klace, what's your situation? Over."

"Backyard's clear, but we don't have a visual of the suspect. Over."

"Copy that."

Just as Jim finished talking, the estate door began to open, and the officers held their guns at the ready. When the suspect stepped outside with his hands on his head, two officers came up to him and cuffed him.

"There has to be a reasonable explanation for this, Jim."

"I'm sorry, Luigi," sighed Jim, leading Luigi to the car. "I hated to think doing this sort of thing was like you."

"My brother and I have had nothing to do with the crimes."

"I want to believe that, Luigi. I'm sorry. Now, get in the car."

* * *

After three brief knocks on the door, Dr. Medina entered and said softly, "Mario, Detective Wilder is here to see you."

"Oh. Thanks, Doctor," mumbled Mario, yawning softly. He wanted to stretch, but he stopped himself.

Night had just come to the Mushroom Kingdom; by this time, Mario felt his pain subsiding gradually. His injuries felt far worse than they really were, but after seeing a video of his car crashing into the pole and compressing into a near horseshoe, he began to realize just how fortunate he was to be alive. Any and all pain he would experience meant little now.

"Hi, there, Mario," greeted a stumpy Koopa in a police uniform. He had a kind, professional mien. "Thank God you're alive after what happened today."

"Hey, there, David. Thanks for coming," sighed Mario.

"Look, my friend, I don't know how to put it to you, but--our plans have taken a serious turn."

"What kind of turn?"

David sighed. "Sergeant Powers has your brother in custody for burglary. They arrested him at your mansion."

As Mario tried to grasp the thought of this, his stomach convulsed. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't even think of a reply.

"It doesn't make sense to me, either, Mario. I tried to speak to the sergeant about it, but--no explanation would be enough."

"What do you mean?" mumbled Mario.

"We've now secured the only two pieces of solid evidence in this string of burglaries. All the others were destroyed, but these two made it through somehow." The detective pulled out two devices and set the larger one on the table next to the bed. "Here's a phone conversation between you and Luigi."

"Huh. An iPod Nano." As Mario took the device in hand, his heart pounded like a wardrum. "Uh--David, what am I supposed to expect?"

"Just listen to the audio file," replied David, plugging a pair of computer speakers to the iPod.

Mario detected an edge to his friend's voice. What was so unnerving about the recording? There was only one way to find out. In the conversation, Mario and Luigi were talking about the latest burglaries.

"So?" mumbled Mario, pausing the iPod. "This isn't anything new. We talked about everything just this morning!"

"Just keep listening," insisted David.

After a shrug, Mario pushed Play and listened to the rest of the file.

"We've been involved in this for a while, Luigi."

"Yeah. I know," replied Mario in the recording. "I'm not ready to back out of this now. We've still got that safe to contend with in that department store."

"Yeah. How long do you think it's going to take for us to break it open?"

"What?!"

David let out a sigh and shook his head.

"Detective, this--this isn't me!"

"Then, who is it?"

For a moment, Mario stammered as he tried to complete a sentence. But, the recording was seamless--nothing was pasted in, nothing was cut out. The voices were of him and his brother; this was undeniable. Every facet of their Italian accents, every semitone in their voices, was genuine.

"There's gotta be some way to prove that we didn't do this," Mario mumbled, shutting off the iPod.

"Yes, but think about it. You both were trailing the actual burglars every night they went on a heist."

"I know, but--I--I--it doesn't add up! That second half of the conversation has to be a fake!"

"I know, and I've been going farther than anyone else investigating this! I don't believe you guys did anything! But--there's more."

"Terrific. I don't know how much more of this I can take!"

"Then, you'd better brace yourself. Here's a DVD copy of a security videotape."

As David inserted the disc into the portable DVD player, Mario tried feebly to make sense of everything. How could someone edit something nonexistent into a real telephone conversation and make the audio seamless? No computer program in the world was capable of that. There had to be something else--or someone.

"This was the restaurant's video at 10:47 last night," said David.

A horrified Mario watched the image on the screen. The two figures were dressed in overalls and ski masks. At the beginning of the video, Mario and Luigi disabled the alarm system almost as if by magic; as the clip ran some more, it showed the two figures prying into the safe without breaking a sweat.

"How much do you think is in here?" asked Luigi.

Mario answered, "Not enough. These people were smart."

"So, how much do we have?"

"A little under ten thousand dollars."

Luigi sputtered in annoyance. "You were telling me that there was gonna be at least a hundred times that. What did you do wrong?"

"Is that really important now? Look: there's still a chance of pulling this off. We'll have to track down the owners of this place. They might have a safe at their house or at a bank, maybe. Get the address, will you? We're hitting the place tomorrow."

David turned off the clip and droned, "That's all that the video showed us. Now, we've got nothing on these guys, and they might finish their job at any moment now."

"I hate to ask. Is the clip seamless? Is it genuine?"

"Completely. We sent these pieces of evidence to experts, and they have no reason to think they're fake." After hearing Mario exhale sadly, David added, "This is just as hard for me to believe. But, these people who analyzed this stuff--they're experts! They know what they look at."

"But, this evidence doesn't line up with what happened to me this afternoon."

"You mean how you lost control of your car for no reason? You said it was like magic."

"That's right. And--and don't the police know that we've been working to stop these guys?"

"Well, they know, but they can't be persuaded to believe that without solid evidence. And, as much as I hate to believe this, these two pieces of evidence are the only ones we've got."






Who did it?