“Sir,” Agent Black said, “for the last time. Your wife has an alibi. If you’ll please let me do my job.”

“Then she had her lover do it!” Mister Errington snapped. “She knew I knew. I had proof! Once I divorced her, she’d have nothing!”

Black let out a heavy sigh. “Your wife’s lover is her alibi. I need to ask you to leave.”

“This is my house!” Errington said.

“It’s a crime scene.”

“It’s my crime scene!”

“Why do we always get the weird ones?” Black asked his partner.

McCoy shrugged. “Just ignore him.”

Easy for him, Black thought. Errington had been rich, and the fact that he couldn’t take it with him hadn’t made him any less entitled.

“They must have hired someone to do it!”

That simply wasn’t possible. Errington had frozen her accounts, and her lover was a young artist “suffering for his craft.” She simply didn’t have the money to hire an assassin.

“Is there any precedent for this?” Black asked. “I mean, this must have happened before at some point, right?”

McCoy just looked at him.

Black sighed again. “Right. If there was, they wouldn’t be calling us in for a routine homicide.”

“Routine!” Errington said. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” Black snapped, “I have no clue who you are. I decided it would be more fun to solve a murder without reading any of the local cops’ notes, and checking the driver’s license in the corpse’s wallet felt like cheating!”

Errington’s pale, translucent face turned a shade darker. “I’ll have your badge for that!”

That was the last straw. “Really? How are you going to do that? You’re dead. Since you never filed for divorce and have no will, all of your money belongs to your wife now. All of your connections, all of your corporate inter… ests…”

McCoy reached the same conclusion. He was already flipping through pages of the police reports.

“Here,” he said, pulling a paper out and handing it to Black. The All-Tech logo was printed neatly at the top.

“Oh, I hope this was them,” Black said. “I’m tired of them wriggling out of everything we throw at them.”

McCoy smiled at Errington. “One question remains: can you leave this room?” And the two FBI agents walked out on the indignant ghost.

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