“That’s really weird,” Mr. Rogers said. His name was Mr. Rogers, but he wasn’t that Mr. Rogers.
“I know, right? It just randomly appeared,” said Barney. His real name was Barnabas, but everyone called him Barney. Barney and Mr. Rogers had known each other since the 90s, but recently their relationship had been strained because of Barney’s drug problem, for which he refused to get help. Mr. Rogers was also forcing Barney to move out within the next few weeks because he was tired of dealing with Barney’s erratic behavior and this only provided further stress on their relationship.
“I think we should burn it,” said Po. Po was eighteen years old and fond of burning things. It all started when she stared into the sun too long because she swore she saw a face in it. Mr. Rogers and Barney had taken her in when Po’s three older siblings forced her to move out after she tried to burn down their house. She was also one of the reasons Mr. Rogers wanted Barney to move out. He felt that the house had become a hostile environment for her and he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t be influenced by Barney’s habits.
“No, Po,“ Mr. Rogers said, “We’re not burning it. It probably just wants to talk to us.” He turned and faced it. “Do you have anything to say?”
The monkey stared back at them. He had a very curious look on his face, as if he was intrigued by the three characters he had just come across, but he didn’t say anything. “I don’t think it speaks English,” Barney said, “Habla Español?” he asked the monkey. Po pulled a lighter out of her pocket and started playing with it.
The monkey said nothing.
“Okay….” Mr. Rogers said. “Well, I have to go talk to my neighbors, so…” He trailed off as if he wanted to imply that he was leaving, but didn’t actually want to tell the others that he was leaving.
The monkey finally spoke. “I’m sorry, my name’s George and I’m a bit lost. Could you tell me how to get… uh…. how to get to Sesame Street?”
Barney stiffened as if he had heard something he didn’t want to hear, because he had, in fact, heard something he didn’t want to hear. ”Did you just say Sesame Street?”
Mr. Rogers stood defensively in front of Barney. “Let it go, Barney. It’s been ten years.”
“Yeah, it’s kinda weird that you’re still holding this grudge,” Po said. ”I just write all my problems on a piece of paper, then set it on fire and use it to burn down a house.”
“Yeah, that’s not healthy either,” Mr. Rogers said. He was used to being the straight man of the trio.
The monkey spoke up again.
“I’m a bit late, so if you could just point me in the right direction…”
“Fuck Sesame Street.” Barney said. “Those guys are racists. Have you ever seen any purple people there? They hate purple people.”
“They don’t hate purple people,” Mr. Rogers said. “They just didn’t want a drunk pedophile to be around the children.”
“Whoa, man,” Po said, preparing herself for the fight that she knew would break out. She went inside the house. Barney didn’t say anything. He just grabbed the crowbar out of the monkey’s hands and beat Mr. Rogers to death with it.
“What the hell, man?” the monkey said. “I was supposed to kill Elmo with that.”
“You were going to kill Elmo?” Barney asked.
“Yeah, why else would I be carrying a crowbar?”
“I don’t know, maybe you wanted to pry something open?” Barney wanted to continue, but he suddenly realized that his house was on fire. He ran inside to try to save it.
Po, who had walked out of the house as Barney had run in, smiled and looked at George. “So you said you were looking for Sesame Street?”
* * *
Steve surveyed the crime scene. He’d seen many like it before, but he could never get used to the horrific nature of the brutal murders he so frequently investigated. He was also surprised by the location. Sesame Street was a very safe area. There hadn’t been a violent crime in the area since the 60s and now, the death of such a popular member of the neighborhood. He wondered how his younger partner Joe was holding up. After 20 long years on the job, Steve was ready to retire, but he wanted to make sure Joe was ready to take over as Chief Inspector. He looked at the charred remains of the body, thinking about life and death, until Joe walked back into the room. Steve looked up at Joe.
“Well, the neighbor’s no help, “ Joe said. “Some guy named Mr. Noodle. He refuses to talk, although, to be honest, I doubt he’d be very much help even if he did. He didn’t seem very smart.”
“What do you think happened?” Steve asked. It was pretty obvious what had happened, the only question was who did it, and why.
“Well, the victim died from blunt force trauma to the head, most likely by a metal pipe or crowbar or something similar. Then the perpetrator, or perpetrators, burned the house down, probably to destroy any evidence.” Joe was interrupted by a loud bark from outside the house. Steve and Joe rushed out to see their police dog staring down at something on the ground.
“What is it, Blue? Is it a clue?” Steve asked. Blue had served him well in his investigations and Steve would definitely miss her after he retired. Right now, she was staring at something on the ground. Steve picked up the silver object and examined it. It was a Zippo lighter, with an image of the face of a baby inside of a sun inscribed on it.
“Well, that’s a clue if I ever saw one,” Steve said. “Let’s ask around the head shops in the area and see if anyone recognizes this engraving.”
“There’s something else, “ Joe said. “Look at that.” Steve turned around and looked where Joe was pointing. On the ground, there was a banana peel. Steve leaned down to look closer. It seemed like an ordinary banana peel, but there was one odd thing about it. The banana had not been opened from the bottom end, not the end that the average person would open it from. Steve only knew one person that would open bananas like that.
“Joe, I think it’s time we paid a visit to a certain man in a yellow hat.”
* * *
Bob was a rich man, but he had come from humble beginnings. His father and grandfather were both contractors and as soon as Bob graduated from high school, he too went into the construction industry and made a name for himself. By the time he was old enough to buy alcohol, he was already known as the best contractor in the city. But building houses for rich mobsters gave him a glimpse of the power they held, and it was this power that he craved more than anything. His company became the biggest construction company in the state, and Bob expanded his business into less legitimate arenas. By the time he turned 30, he had the most intricate crime network in the city and he was untouchable. But even when he had all the power he could dream of, he still wore his yellow hard hat, as a reminder of his humble beginnings.
Bob was having a bad day. It should’ve been great, considering the fact that the day before had been his daughter’s wedding, but when the two detectives came to meet with him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to rest for a while.
“Look, we need to arrest your monkey, “ Steve said, “So if you could just give him to us, we’d all be saving a lot of time.”
“George? I haven’t seen him all day. “ Bob said. “The last time I saw him was on Tuesday when I sent him to get me some avocados from the store. He’s really good at picking out the ripe ones.” Bob had met George when George was still a young monkey and had found that George’s curiosity made him a very resourceful employee. He had a lot of skills that helped Bob in many different ways.
“We don’t have time for this shit,” Steve said. Steve had found himself in this position several times over the past twenty years and Bob never cooperated. The first time they met was when a kid at the local high school named Buster was caught selling drugs. Buster claimed the drugs came from Bob, but he was hit by a car and died before the case could go to trial. The police investigated Bob’s business, but they couldn’t find anything suspicious. Bob was far too careful for that. “We have strong evidence linking him to an ongoing investigation. He’s not going to get out of it this time, Bob. Your monkey’s going behind bars, where he truly belongs.”
Bob shrugged. “I’m sorry, Steve. I just can’t help you. I don’t monitor George’s comings and goings. He’s not my pet, he just helps me out with some problems. Now, if that’s all you have to say to me, please leave, I have very important business to which I must attend.”
Steve glared at Bob angrily for a few seconds before rising from his seat. “Come on, Joe. We’ll just come back with a search warrant.” Joe got up and followed Steve out of the room. Bob sat in silence after the pair of detectives left, thinking about his options. His wife and business partner, Wendy, walked into the room. She had heard the entire conversation from the other room. She looked at him and crossed her arms. Wendy had worked with Bob from the beginning and did not tolerate incompetence. It was one of the things he loved about her.
“Can we fix it?” Wendy asked in a tone that suggested that she was more annoyed than afraid.
Bob smiled, remembering something George had told him earlier. “Yes, we can,” he said, a plan already beginning to form in his mind. “Yes, we can.”
* * *
Back at the station, Steve summarized his ideas about the case. “So, Elmo’s gambling problem forces him to go to Bob for help paying his debts, but when he can’t pay back Bob, Bob sends George to talk to him. The discussion goes bad and George ends up killing Elmo. George starts a fire to destroy any remaining evidence and books it.” Steve picked up the lighter. “We just need to be able to connect this lighter to George and, combined with the crowbar we found, that gives us enough evidence to arrest him.” Steve examined the lighter.
“That’s mine.” The voice came from a young woman who had just walked into the room, led by another police officer. “This woman said she had some important information regarding the Elmo case, “ the officer explained before leaving the room. Steve and Joe turned to the young woman. “What do you know, kid?” Steve asked.
“My name is Po. That lighter is mine and I can tell you exactly who killed Elmo. It was my roommate, Barney.” Steve and Joe looked at her skeptically. Po continued.
“Barney’s had a history of drug and alcohol abuse, but he’s never really hurt anyone. He used to run a daycare center in Sesame Street. 10 years ago, Elmo claimed that Barney had asked him privately whether Elmo wanted Barney to ‘tickle’ him. There wasn’t any other reports of anything more than that, but no parent is gonna trust their kids to someone who had the slightest chance of being a pedophile. Barney was banned from Sesame Street and has always had a grudge against Elmo for that. I guess that grudge has only been growing. Yesterday, our other roommate, Mr. Rogers mentioned Sesame Street, and I guess Barney must’ve been on something because he completely snapped. He punched Mr. Rogers so hard that it knocked him out. Then he stole my lighter and started trying to burn down our house. Barney grabbed Mr. Rogers’ unconscious body and dragged him to the car. I was too distracted by the fire to do anything. By the time I stopped the fire, Barney had disappeared. I waited all night, but they never came back.”
Po’s story was interrupted by a police officer entering the room. “We found a car in a ditch on the side of the highway,” he said. “It looks liked the driver must have been surprised by something. He’s dead. We also found an old man in the trunk. Also dead.”
“What does that have to do with our case?” Steve asked the officer.
“Well, we found a crowbar in the car with blood on it that matched Elmo’s blood. The car was registered to a man named Barney. We think he’s the driver.”
* * *
After filling out all the required paperwork, Po left the station. She was slightly annoyed that the detectives wouldn’t give her back her lighter, but she was sure that her new boss would get her a good replacement. She walked around the block until she found the car she was looking for. She got in and nodded at the other two people in the car. “It’s done,” Po said. Bob smiled as they drove away from the police station. “You’ll make a very valuable member of my organization, ” he said.
Meanwhile, back at the station, Joe was suspicious. “It’s too neatly tied up. There’s no way it was Barney. It has to be George.”
“Yeah, I know, but there’s nothing we can do. All we have is a banana peel. That’s never going to convince a jury.”
“We’ll get Mr. Noodle to testify. I’m sure we could convince him.”
“Mr. Noodle’s never going to talk. Everyone around here is afraid of Bob. There’s nothing we can do.”
“There’s gotta be something. We can’t just let him go free like this. He’s a criminal.”
“One day, he’ll slip up and we’ll get him. But until then, we don’t have enough proof to take him on.”
Joe wanted to say something, but he realized Steve was right. He sat down and put his head in his hands, frustrated with the system that would allow men like Bob to walk free. Steve patted his young partner on the back to comfort him. “Forget it, Joe. It’s Sesame Street.”