It was six o’clock when I found her at my door. I was sitting in my chair, evicting the dirt from underneath my fingernails when I heard a thunk. It was the type of thunk that could only mean two things: one, a body had flung itself against my door, or two, the paper was here. I deemed both of these interesting enough to deserve my attention, so I hauled myself out of my chair, sauntered over to the door and flung it open, expecting to see the paper. Imagine my surprise when, instead of the evening paper, a blonde woman fell into the room, flung her arms around my legs, and began using my expensive leg wear for a tissue. She was sobbing like there was no tomorrow.
I dragged the sobbing woman to her feet and shook her hard trying to snap her out of it. It didn’t work. I asked her questions- name, address, what pets she had- but the questions just made her cry harder, especially the last one. I finally used my last resort, accordion music. None of it worked. I finally decided she just needed to cry it out, so I sat her down in the visitor’s chair, gave her a box of tissues and went back to cleaning my fingernails.
Five minutes later I heard a loud sniffle and looked up to see the woman drying her eyes. Finally. She raised her head to look at me and stifled a giggle. I think it was the lederhosen. She drew in a deep breath and began to speak.
“My name is Matka. Matka Earth. I need your help Albern Schwimm. You must find out who killed my fish.”
“Your fish?” I asked stupidly. No one wants to find out who killed a fish. Who would kill a fish?
Matka nodded. “My fish. Death.” No one names their fish Death either.
“Are you certain someone killed your fish?” I asked. “He didn’t just die of natural causes?”
“He WAS death by natural causes. He was Death.”
I was seriously considering throwing this woman out of my office. No one thinks that their fish is death.
“Are you telling me that your fish was THE Death?” I asked, just to make sure we were on the same wavelength. Matka nodded and pulled a bag filled with water out of her purse. Inside was the blackest fish I had ever seen. Light seemed to go into it and never come out. It was totally dead. Floating on its back and everything.
“This is Death,” Matka said, putting the dead fish on my desk and pulling another bag out of her purse. “And this is Life.” This fish was a brilliant shimmering white, almost blinding. The polar opposite of the other fish. This one was alive, although it looked a little sad. If you can say a fish looked sad. “Life has been out of sorts since Death….passed on. They weren’t allowed in the same tank for obvious reasons, but they had a friendly competition over matters of life and death. Now that the opposition is gone, Life has no fun anymore. I need to find out who did it and punish him or her sufficiently to bring my poor little Death back. Only pain and suffering can bring back Death,” she explained, finally putting the dead fish back in her purse.
“And you want me to find out who killed Death?” I asked. I didn’t like the sound of this case.
“Yes. Just think of what may happen when there is no Death.”
I thought. People jumping off buildings, only to get right back up again after they hit the concrete below. Assassins killing their targets, only to have their targets try to kill them. But no one would die, because no one COULD die. Horrible.
I shuddered and Matka nodded. “Yes, it’s horrible. I need to know who killed Death. That’s it. I am willing to pay quite a lot,” she offered. I thought about it for a moment.
“Do you want me to bring the person to you or just tell you who it is?” I asked. “Bringing people in costs more.”
“Just tell me. I think you’ll be dealing with some rough people. Anyone who has the gall to kill Death has to be tough.” I thought about the job a few more seconds.
“I’ll take it,” I said. Hey, it would look good on my business card: “Found the killer of Death.” I always look for ways to advance my business.
“I don’t care how long it takes, although sooner would be better for obvious reasons,” Matka said. “I just want to know who killed my little Death.” With that she stood up and glided out of the room, leaving me to ponder whom I would call upon first. I decided to round up the usual suspects.
***
After talking to Murder, Famine and War, I was no closer to locating the killer of Death than I had been when I first began the case. I talked to everyone I could think of, but no one knew who had killed Death. I was getting desperate. The city was full of people jumping off buildings and running their cars into each other, just to get the thrill of not dying. It was getting out of control. I slumped over my desk and pillowed my head in my hands.
“God!” I cried to the heavens. “Who killed Death?” To my surprise, a grayish cloud appeared in my office and spoke to me.
“Albern, I think you are asking the wrong person,” the cloud said. “I, God, have nothing to do with this. You may try looking in the other direction, if you know what I mean,” It said and then faded, leaving only a slight smell of lilies lingering in the air. The other direction….oh, Hell. Well, that made a little bit of sense, I mused as I caught the bus that went to the local satanic cult’s house. Satan might know who killed Death. I arrived at the black house (the trimmings were painted blood red; I didn’t want to think about whether it was real blood) and made my way to the front door. A sign on the door read, “If you are here to convert us, please use the back door. It’s right behind the snake pit and the large quicksand hole. If you make it to the door, we’d be more than happy to listen to you. If you are trying to sell us something, please go and pet the dog first. If you still have hands, ring the bell.” I looked over at the slobbering pit bull that was glaring at me and hurriedly finished reading the sign. “If you are here for any other reason, please think carefully about whether we really would want to deal with you and if the answer is no, go away because it will be much more pleasant than what we will do to you. All others are welcome to ring the bell.” I decided that they would like what I was here to talk to them about, so I rang the bell. Almost instantly the door flew open.
“Welcome to the House of Satan,” a voice boomed from the dark interior. “What brings you to our abode?”
“Ummm, I’d like to speak to Satan about something,” I said.
“Will you give us your soul?” the voice asked.
“Uh… no,” I replied.
“Oh well, always worth asking. Enter mortal, and the Dark Lord will see you,” commanded the voice. I entered the dark house and promptly tripped over something.
“Say, do you think you could turn on some lights?” I asked.
“NO!” cried the voice. “The House of Satan must be lit properly!” The voice dropped a little in volume. “Plus we forgot to pay our electricity bill this month.” Ah, that explained it. I looked around in the dark, trying to figure out which way to go.
“Hey, unearthly voice!” I called.
“Yes?” answered the voice.
“Where are we going and how am I going to get there if I can’t see where I’m going?”
“I cannot tell you where we journey to, but in order to get there just follow my voice,” the voice said, before starting into a heartfelt rendition of “Hotel California.” I followed the singing into another dark room, this one lit with a few candles. The singing stopped.
“Hey, you were just getting to the good part!” I said.
“Yes, I know, but we are here. The Room of Satan! Please pick up the phone, dial 9 to get the satanic line, then dial 666-6666. That will take you to Satan’s personal office. I’m afraid you can only speak to him today. He does personal appearances on Thursdays only.” I shrugged. Talking to Satan would be just as good as seeing him. I picked up the phone and followed the voice’s directions. A loud screech sounded in my ear as someone on the other side picked up.
“Hello? Satan speaking,” said a raspy voice.
“Satan? Hi, it’s Albern Schwimm, you probably don’t know me, but…”
“Who said I don’t know you?” Satan shouted. “I know everyone and everyone’s sins! I’m not overcrowded down here! Nope, no, not me! Who told you that? I bet it was God. Always messing around in my business.”
“Satan, I want to know if you know who killed Death,” I said, ignoring his little outburst. I had a pretty good idea who had done it now that I was actually talking to Satan.
“Why would I know who killed Death?” Satan said a little indignantly.
“You did it didn’t you?” I asked.
Satan sighed. “I did. But I had to! You can’t see it down here but we’re horribly overcrowded! No one seems to be going to Heaven these days; everyone wants to come to the sauna party. I can’t leave my office anymore, there’s no place for me to go. And these new people, they have no respect for me anymore. I’m just the cute little red fellow with the horns and the pointy tail. I can’t work under these conditions!” Satan screamed.
“Tell you what, Satan,” I said. “I have to tell Matka that you killed Death, but how about after she tortures you a little, you take a vacation. Go un-tempt some people and send them to Heaven. Visit your followers. They’re getting lonely with only your Thursday visits. Maybe when you go back it won’t be as bad.” There was silence on the other side of the line. “Satan?”
“I like that idea, Albern. I like it a lot. Thank you friend. And just for that idea, you get un-tempted and a free pass to Heaven. Oh, I like this!” With that, Satan hung up.
***
I called Matka into my office later that day.
“I’ve found the killer,” I announced. “It’s Satan.”
“I figured as much,” Matka said. “That little devil is always getting into things he shouldn’t. Thank you, Albern. You proved very useful. And for your services, I’ve decided to give you a little something besides your pay.” She hauled a bag out of her purse. Inside was a small white fish. It wasn’t as beautiful as Life, but pretty nonetheless.
“This is a child of Life,” she explained. “It won’t give you wealth or happiness, but it will give you nice teeth. I thought you could use it.” She put the bag on my desk and walked out of my office and out of my life.
I studied my fish, pondering what to name it. I finally decided on Colgate, a good American name. Most American’s have good teeth.
End