Detective Palumbo had just finished examining the body of Debbie Layne which was lying on couch in her plush living room.
“Mrs. Layne was hit on the back of her head 3 or 4 times with the butt of that pistol,” the sleuth said.
The .45 lay on the floor near the body. Sheriff Hobbs was dusting the weapon for fingerprints.
“I’ve telephoned her husband at his office and only told him to come home, I dislike breaking bad news. Will you do it?”, the sheriff said.
“I’ll do it,” said Palumbo as he watched the body being removed from the scene. Then he took a seat in a lounge chair to wait for Mr. Layne.
The Ambulance drove away just as Mr. Layne arrived. He came into the living room and asked, “Where’s Debbie? What’s happened?”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you that she was murdered about 3 hours ago,” said Palumbo. “Your cleaning lady found the body and called the sheriff.”
“I can’t find any fingerprints on this gun,” said the sheriff. “I’ll send it to the lab.”
Mr. Layne’s face flushed as he got angry and said, “please find the fiend that clubbed Debbie to death, I’ll put up a twenty-five thousand dollar reward!”
“Save your money,” said Hobbs. “The murderer won’t be that hard to find.” Why?