Jack Tracer Mysteries: The Case of the Calling Card Victims

Investigate along with the hard-boiled detective, Jack Tracer, as he unravels the mysteries of the body.  Can you guess the disease?  The conclusion and answer to the mystery will be posted on Thursday.  Leave your guesses in the comment section below!

Get this and get it straight, disease is a sucker’s road, and those who succumb to it end up in the gutter, the hospital, or the grave.  It happened like this…

             Walking up to my office, I paused at the sight of a small slip of paper poking out from underneath my door.  Not your normal way of recruiting a private investigator’s services, but I’ve had stranger.  Retrieving the note from its place of concealment, I opened it to find a plea for help scrawled across the page in a rushed hand.  Normally, I wouldn’t respond to such a mysterious invite without having a face to put to the request, but the couple of bright pink lipstick marks on the side intrigued me just enough to throw caution to the wind.  Perhaps this “Rendezvous at the East Lympatic Building” would prove one of the more pleasant cases I’d ever taken on…

Wasting no time, I made it to the prearranged location and decided to have a little look around.  It was a quiet sort of place… too quiet.  The sound of every floorboard that creaked reverberated throughout the abandoned building.  I cautiously crept forward into the darkness.  Then suddenly, I heard a heavy step behind me and as I turned around, whack!  I was knocked out cold by a 2x4 to the head.  The next thing I knew, I was lying in an alleyway with a gun in my hand, a nasty headache and someone screaming bloody murder.

Everything was a bit hazy at first and my head ached like a kidney stone from the blow I’d sustained earlier.  The scene that lay around me was completely different than I had remembered from just a few hours before, but it was hard to focus with the persistent pounding in my head.  As the cops arrived on scene and began interrogating me, I quickly realized that I’d been framed.  But by who or what, I didn’t have the slightest idea.  Unfortunately, the target pistol in my hand and the lifeless body of an epithelial employee lying next to me was enough to earn me a night of room and board down at the station.  With the circumstantial evidence piling against me, it was clear that I had a case on my hands that I couldn’t refuse; only this time, instead of looking forward to a nice payday at the end, I’d be investigating to save my own hide from a 25 to life stint in an adipose prison cell. 

Spending the night in the joint is not exactly what I’d call a 5-star vacation, but it does have its advantages when you want to keep up on the evidence trail.  Thankfully, I had a friend on the inside who kept me informed of the progress on the case. “You know Jackey boy,” he said when he first came down for a quiet chat, “I really shouldn’t be doing this, but it isn’t right for you to be all locked up when you’re one of the good guys.  I’ll do my best to pass along the information I can just in case you have any insights that you want to share.  Hopefully we’ll get this whole thing cleared up as quick as ATP in a skeletal muscle.”

From what I could gather, the woman who’d happened on the scene, and effectively revived me with her shrill screams, was a dead end.  The cops were at a loss trying to put all the pieces of the puzzle together because as soon as they got close to a theory, something else turned up that shot that theory so full of lead, you could collect it for the war efffort.  Apparently, the lymphatic buildings surrounding the scene of the crime were swelling with people, but it was hard to figure out the cause.  They’d also found traces of joint pain and flu-like symptoms all throughout the city: achiness, fatigue, fever and chills… but nothing quite fit any of the criminal gangs I knew.  Sure, it sounded like some of the antics of better known gangs, but nothing quite fit them either.  Looked to me like they’d been framed, just like I had, while the real culprit was still out there causing havoc in the city. 

Then it happened… “Ok Jackey Boy, someone got you a get out of jail free card which you’re going to capitalize on right now.  I had to convince the higher ups to let you out, but it’s hard to say that you’re the felon we’re after when there are murders still happening while you’re down here all locked up!”  my friend announced as he opened the cell door.

“Thanks Mikey, you’re a real pal.”

“Now Jack, according to the big boss, you’re to go nowhere near the investigation… but if you happen to turn up any clues, you’ll let me know right?”

“Are you encouraging me to do a little digging around of my own Mike?”

“Officially?  Of course not!  But, if I was you, I’d leave no stone unturned if there was even the smallest chance of being locked up for a crime I didn’t commit… Just saying Jack.”  Then in a softer voce, “You know, there was the funniest thing about all the murders… the killer, whoever he is, left a calling card on all his victims and you know what it said?  Nothing… absolutely nothing… all it had on it was a bright red Bull’s-eye…. See ya around Jackey Boy!  And don’t even think about skipping town, you’re still a suspect you know.”

“Got it Mike, thanks for everything.”

Hmm… a calling card with a Bull’s-eye left on each of the victims… if that’s the case, then there could only be one criminal behind this series of murders and it was time to pay them a little visit…

…To be continued…

Think you know what or who is targeting the Calling Card Victims?  Care to speculate about who framed Jack?  Leave your conjectures in the comment section below, then tune in Thursday to find out what happens next in The Case of the Calling Card Victims.

Jack Tracer Mysteries: The Case of the Gummed Up Railways

Investigate along with the hardboiled detective, Jack Tracer, as he unravels the mysteries of the body.  Can you guess the disease?  The conclusion and answer to the mystery will be posted on Saturday.  Leave your guesses in the comment section below!

Get this and get it straight, disease is a sucker’s road, and those who succumb to it end up in the gutter, the hospital, or the grave.  It happened like this…

            “So there I was, talkin’ to the city controller right in front of ‘em railway workers,” hollered a grungy man at the bar.  From the sound of things, he had a pint full of nutrients and quite the tale to tell.  Just your typical bar room drunk that handled stress with a strong drink and a loose tongue.  I tried to focus on enjoying my little corner table in the back, but his boisterous voice made his story impossible to ignore. 

“And I told him straight up that all these problems we’ve been having with movement have been because some peoples have been slackin’ off and ain’t been doin’ their jobs properly.  Then, I looked over at that big shot ring leader of ‘em railwayers, you know the one.  I looked him straight in the eyes and I says to him, I says, “We can’t exactly be expected to get our passengers to their destinations on time with all these rails getting gummed up, now can we?”  Hahahaha, oh you should of seen the look on his face!  Those wild eyes of his just kept getting’ bigger and bigger and his face turned as red as my Mama’s hemoglobin!”

            “Yeah, that’s right, you tell ‘em Bones!” the rowdy gang concurred as they gathered around the storyteller.  By their similarly grungy exterior, I deduced they must be some of his buddies from wherever it was he worked.  “What happened next?” they encouraged.

            “Well, with the city controller standing right there, all he could do was bite his tongue! You should have seen him sayin’ ‘Yes Sir’ and ‘No Sir’ as he got this big old lecture about keeping on top of the maintenance!  He was fit to be tied!! The city controller kept sayin’ he was tired of having so many problems at the main joints and that they’d better make working on the metro-tarsal section their main priority since that’s where all the main hold ups have been!”  Bones laughed, thinking himself mighty clever for getting one up on his rival.  Little did he know, he wasn’t the only one at that bar tonight trying to blow off a little steam.  

            Bones’ buddies nudged him to quiet down, but not soon enough.  One big, rough hand landed firmly on his shoulder and a deep voice belonging to the previously maligned railway’s leader, John Jointman, boomed out, “Boy Bones, you sure do know how to tell a story… too bad it ain’t got a lick of truth to it.  You might ‘of had upper management fooled, but I know very well that all these problems we’ve been having are because you guys over in the Moving company haven’t been doing your job!”

            Shrugging off John’s hand, Bones glared up at his challenger. “Well, how can we when there’s all that inflammation in the way?!  It’s painfully slow!” 

            “If you would just clean up your act and not pound so hard on the railways when you’re moving…”

            “If you guys would just keep everything clean, it wouldn’t…”  A swift punch to the face stopped Bones before he could finish his sentence, but he wasn’t about to leave it at that.  Soon, an all-out brawl ensued between movers and the railwayers.  So, I decided it wasn’t the place for a man just trying to enjoy his drink and took it as my cue to jet out of there.

Leaving enough on my table to cover my tab, I carefully made my way around the ruckus and towards the back door.  As I was pushing the door open, a loud shriek caught my attention.  I turned back to see a young woman shoved back from the fray and right into my arms.  She was a kind of woman that belonged at home curled up with a good book and a warm, cozy fire.  The kind that had no business seeing the crueler side of life.  She looked up at me with big, beautiful brown eyes and a question mark painted over her features.  “It’s ok honey.  The name’s Tracer and I’m a detective.  Let’s just get you out of here and let the police break that fight up, huh?  There’s nothing we can do for them right now.”

………………………………………………

            After a short walk to the coffee shop next door and a cool glass of water to calm her nerves, the damsel in distress looked up at me and tentatively broke the silence, “Um… pardon me, but did I hear you say your name was Tracer?  Are you the Jack Tracer, private investigator?”

            “That I am honey.  Does that mean anything to you?”

            “Well, I’ve been worrying about my husband, Johnny Jointman, quite a bit lately Mr. Tracer.  He just hasn’t been himself with all of the pressure he’s been getting at work.  I… I just wanted to help, that’s all… So I, I looked through a few of his things and your name stood out.”

            “Never heard of him.”

            “Oh, my Johnny would never have actually called you unless he was absolutely desperate!  He’s loyal to his core and wouldn’t have wanted to hurt his bosses!  Plus, if they knew he’d hired a private investigator instead of talking to them about what he’d seen, they’d fire him right on the spot!”

            “Ah, so there’s more to this story than meets the eye.  Why didn’t he lay out all his worries to his beloved employers?”

            “Oh he’s been trying to Mr. Tracer, they just haven’t been in a listening sort of mind.  Plus, who’d believe him if they heard what he’d seen?”

            “What did he see honey?”

            “Crystals Mr. Tracer.  Large, sharp, needle-like crystals all over the metro-tarsal railways.  Listen, could you help my husband and look into it for him?  I don’t have much to offer, but I’ll do whatever I can to cover your fee.”

            “Giant crystals you say, eh?  Alright honey, you’ve hired yourself a detective.  But uh, how about we just wait and see if I can get to the bottom of this before talking payment huh?”

            “Oh Mr. Tracer, I don’t know how to thank you!” 

            “Thank me when it’s over honey.  Just go home and take care of that husband of yours.  Oh, and tell him to lay off the strong drinks for a while will ya?  Or else next time he might need a little more than tender love and care to fix him up.  I’ll be in touch.”

Can you guess what disease is at foot?  What do you think is going to happen next?  Leave your thoughts in the comment section below, then click here to find out what happens next in The Case of the Gummed Up Railways…

Jack Tracer Mysteries: The Lady in the White Coat

Investigate along with the hardboiled detective, Jack Tracer, as he unravels the mysteries of the body.  Can you guess the disease?  The conclusion and answer to the mystery will be posted on Monday.  Leave your guesses in the comment section below!

Get this and get it straight, disease is a sucker’s road, and those who succumb to it end up in the gutter, the hospital, or the grave.  It happened like this…

            It was a dark and dreary night.  One of those kinds of nights where all you want to do is curl up with a good book and a warm cup of joe.  The kind of night where any sensible man would be at home, enjoying the warmth of a fire… but that was not my lot.  No, I was stuck outside with nothing but a trench coat and a hat to ward off the drizzling rain.  Why?  Well, it all started with a dame…

            Her name was Nancy, or so I was told.  It was two nights past when I was holding up a wall at my favorite intestinal joint, sipping a nice, cool drink after a long day of work.  I looked over when I felt a soft hand brush against my arm.  It belonged to the kind of woman a man would take notice of wherever she went: long-legged, beautiful complexion and dressed to kill in a white fur coat.  “Hi there,” she said in a husky voice.  “Bartender, get my friend here another of whatever he’s having and one of the same for me.”

            “Coming right up there pretty lady,” he replied.

            “I’d be careful there sister.  I don’t take my nutrients lightly,” I warned, a bit intrigued by the character standing beside me.

            “Oh, I never shy away from a strong dose of protein and glucose Mr. Tracer.  What do you say we take our conversation to a more… private location?

            “Hmm… tempting.  But how about you slow down honey and tell me what angle you’re trying to play.”

            “Angle?  Why Jack!  How could you not remember me?” Then, leaning down close into my ear, she whispered, “Careful Mr. Tracer.  Feel that metal I have pressed up against your back?  I think it might just be worth your while to play along and accompany me to the alley out back. Play it cool now, we don’t want to go alarming any of your nice friends here.”

            Left without much of a choice, I abandoned the rest of my drink and followed her advice.  It was a short walk to the back door and out into the cool of the night.  There was a car waiting just outside the door and a quick nudge in my back told me I’d be better off getting into the vehicle.  After making sure I took my place in the back seat, the dame slipped in beside me with a cool smile. 

            “Hello there Jack,” said a man in the front passenger seat as the car began to move.  “It’s so nice of you to join us.  I hope Nancy didn’t treat you too roughly, you see, we’re used to escorting more… dangerous sorts.”

            “Hm, you could have fooled me.  Maybe if you asked nicely, I would have come along.  Who are you anyway?”

            “Well, we couldn’t take the chance of you refusing Jack.  The name’s Mr. T of the secret T Division of the police force.  We keep tabs on all of the most dangerous criminals and, once we’ve kicked them out of the city, we make sure that they never come back.  We’ve got a little situation that we need to keep quiet and you’re just the kind of guy that could do a little poking around without raising suspicions.  You see, we’ve come to suspect that some of our own might have turned against our primary directive.”

            “So this is a job offer?”

            “Precisely.  We’ve been following you for a while now Jack and we were very impressed with how you handled that muscle factory situation.  All we need you to do is check into the situation for us and figure out what’s really behind all the strange occurrences that have been happening lately.”

            “What’s in it for me?”

            “How about staying alive to keep doing what you do best?” interjected Nancy.

            “Now, now Nancy.  Mr. Tracer’s going to be helping us, so there’s no need to be rough with him.  You see Jack, Nancy’s been a bit on edge lately.  She’s actually from the CNS department and is the one who brought this whole situation to our attention in the first place.  We normally have a great working relationship with the CNS, keeping the streets clean you understand, but lately some of our guys have been loitering a little too long around their stations.  Tell him what you’ve heard Nancy.”

            “Well Mr. Tracer, I started to get suspicious when I noticed some of our members no longer wearing their white coats.  When I asked around, no one would give me a straight answer.  Then, I found this in a dumpster,” she said as she drew a small, shredded piece of white coat out of her purse. 

            “Hmm… what’s so special about your white coats?”

“Well Mr. Tracer, not only are they quite fashionable, they help us do our jobs.  But that’s not all, there have been rumors circulating about interruptions in the communication lines, things wearing out quickly, and short episodes of numbness.  Everything just hasn’t been working as smoothly lately.  I’m nervous Mr. Tracer, what if I’m next?  I don’t want to upset the whole balance of things!”

            “And you say it’s all just rumors?  What happened when you checked into them?”

            “Well, when I asked around, everyone said that things were back to normal.  Whole limbs have been paralyzed, but then later are back to normal as if nothing ever happened.  Think you can help us out Mr. Tracer?”

…To be continued…

Think you know what disease process has caused Nancy’s unease?  Care to hazard a guess?  Leave your thoughts in the comment section below, then follow this link to find out what happens next in The Lady in the White Coat.

Jack Tracer Mysteries: The Strange Evening

Investigate along with the hardboiled detective, Jack Tracer, as he unravels the mysteries of the body.  Can you guess the disease?  Leave your guesses in the comment section below!

Get this and get it straight, disease is a sucker’s road, and those who succumb to it end up in the gutter, the hospital, or the grave.  It happened like this…

            All I wanted was a little bit of peace and quiet after an exhausting day on the job.  Just one uncomplicated evening with a refreshing drink in hand to cool down from the heat spell we’d been enduring, but apparently it was too much to ask.  Fate had something else in mind for my time that evening. 

            Sounds were not strangers in the thin walled apartment building I called home, but that night something about them in particular caught my attention.  It was a strange sort of pounding that was rattling the board beneath my feet, almost as if someone had turned up the sound on their radio.  Realizing that my dreams of a quiet evening would quickly go down the tubes if the ruckus didn’t stop, I opened my door to investigate.  Then, that same sense of something that had drawn my attention to the noise earlier suddenly made me decide to take a more cautious approach.  Crouching down, I peeped through my slightly cracked door and listened.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump… “Oh, cut out the racket over there!” a voice called out from across the hall.  Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump … “If you don’t turn that down, I’m going to come over there and turn it off for you!”  Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump … “Ok fine, if that’s the way you want it bub, here I come!” 

Then, a figure burst into the abandoned hall with a look of annoyance on his face and strode over to his neighbor’s door.  “Open up T or I’ll bust my way through!” he shouted again.  No answer greeted him.  Trying the door, it opened easily.  “T, are you in here?  T?!  Oh, oh no, T what have you done?”  Slowly backing up into the hall, the man furtively looked both ways and hurriedly made his way to the stairwell.  Curious, I decided to follow the agitated gentleman while I had him in my sights.

Finding a nearby telephone booth, the man forced his shaking fingers to dial while beads of sweat trailed down his face.  I couldn’t get close enough to hear who he spoke to, but the bit of conversation I did overhear was enough to raise my suspicions even more.

“Yeah, I’m tellin’ you straight.  It was pounding and pounding.  All I saw in the room was a record player with Symphony of Life on repeat and a note that said, ‘Catch up if you can!’ … uh huh…. Yeah… I swear Boss, it had Code Name 3 and 4 written all over it! … uh huh… Are you sure?  This whole thing is making me nervous what with all the hunger and weight loss gangs on the loose! … yeah… alright… Ok, I’ll check it out Boss.” 

In his hurry to leave, the man left the phone dangling by its cord and high-tailed it out of there.  Knowing he was my greatest chance at figuring out this mystery, I jumped in my car and trailed after him.  He led me all the way to the outskirts of town to a building with the symbols AAI on the side.  AAI…  Adams Apple Incorporated… what did they have to do with this mystery? 

Wanting to see if there were any reports of strange activity at the station, I called in and let Detective Johnson know I was on a case.  He quickly informed me they had been receiving reports all night from the neighborhood watch about crimes like fatigue, flushing and even hair loss.  Then, he said those fateful words, “Oh and Jack, the controller just called and said that levels of insomnia and systolic BP are running high.” 

Suddenly, all the pieces began to fall in place and I realized what we must have on our hands.  Preparing myself for the inevitable conflict, I stepped out of my car and followed after the shady character.

…To be continued…

Think you know what caused Jack’s unease?  Care to hazard a guess?  Leave your thoughts in the comment section below, then tune in here to find out what happens next in The Strange Evening.

Jack Tracer Mysteries: The Case of the Twitching Muscle Facility

Investigate along with the hardboiled detective, Jack Tracer, as he unravels the mysteries of the body.  Can you guess the disease?  Leave your guesses in the comment section below.

"Get this and get it straight, disease is a sucker’s road, and those who succumb to it end up in the gutter, the hospital, or the grave.  It happened like this…"

There I was, sitting in my favorite intestinal joint, sipping on a nice, strong cup of nutrients, when a man approached me with a frantic look in his eyes.  Normally, I’d avoid a man like that on my night off, but there was something in his manner that told me I’d better listen to what he had to say.

“Hey, you Tracer?”

“Yeah, who’s askin’?”

“The name’s Myo, Myo Sin.  I work down at the muscle plant and something’s wrong Tracer.  Something’s very wrong.”

“Oh yeah, then why don’t you take it to the police?”

“Cuz I don’t want to raise suspicion and lose my job.  Everyone’s been very anxious lately and we don’t need the extra stress.  Just look into it why don’t ya and we’ll call the cops if it starts smellin’ too fishy.”

            “Alright, alright, what’s going on Myo?”

            “Well, you see, the whole muscle factory hasn’t been acting right the last few days.  Seems like we’ve been getting bad electricity or something because everything’s weak and the whole place has been, well, twitching.”

            “Twitching?”

            “Yeah, that’s what I said.  So I called over to the power plant.  They told me they’ve still been runnin’ some quality sinus rhythm and not to worry.  But just as I was about to hang up the phone, the guy whispered to me that they have been getting some funny, peaked t waves lately.  Everything’s still pumping right, so the management hasn’t taken any notice of it.”

            “That’s just like them folks to keep going like nothing’s happened!” the bar keeper interjected.  “Sorry guys, I couldn’t help overhearing what you’s talkin’ about and you know, I’ve been thinkin’ something might be off with the power lately too.  Things have been sounding mighty loud down here in the bowels lately and I hear things have been a bit runny down below if you know what I mean.”

            “Hmm… Ok Myo, I’ll take the job,” announced Tracer.  "If I’m right and this thing goes south, we could have some real trouble on our hands.”

Continue to the conclusion of the adventure to learn the answer to the riddle...