Riddle Me That, Mr. Nygma


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3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Was there anything else, Mr. Nygma? Or did you just want to impress me?” I teasingly asked. He chuckled but he admitted he was in need of assistance with examining the crime scene photos and reconstructing the scene. “I’ll be right out”, I briskly packed things away and handed over the tools to my intern to sterilise, and I reassured him that I would only be a moment before exiting the lab with Mr. Nygma.

In a quick and impatient pace, Ed and I quickly visited the file room to frantically dig up the most recent crime scene file photos. Whilst examining and sharing thoughts with Ed I quickly found my initial impressions of him to be the exact reason why I enjoyed his company. His brilliant mind, random facts, and mind-boggling riddles were no longer an annoyance but rather sweet and smart quirks he possessed. It was a shame that the rest of our colleagues didn’t view him in quite the same light as I had but rather as an irritant.

“The posed suicide was likely used as a form of body disposal”, Ed began. “But the question is why did they not perform it further along the bridge so that the body would actually hit the water?” Ed proposed a good question but I had my own observations.

“I’m hypothesising this as a first time crime of passion. I’m presuming two people arguing or in a bit of a brawl… bam! Victim is hit on the parietal. Guy freaks out. Takes no account as to the presence of a higher or lower tide. Dumps body over bridge at the most common suicide location without noticing the low tide, resulting in the body hitting the exposed sand banks as opposed to the potentially sinking to the ocean floor. Ed agreed and we decided it was essential to return to the deceased to examine again for potential defensive wounds and the possibility of a physical altercation. Ed and I continued to look into all the various crime scene photos from the forensic photographers when we were interrupted by the opening of the file room door. After seeing who entered the room I returned my attention back to Ed who’s complexion flushed a bright red tone.

“Good afternoon, Miss Kringle!” His expression was beaming with light and his grin was full of glee at the sight of this woman who’s expression changed not a bit when she bluntly and unimpressed replied, not even lifting her head from clipboard to politely greet him. And yet he still turned away from our task and followed her promptly.

“Hello, Mr. Nygma”

“M-Miss Kringle, When young, I am sweet in the sun. When middle-aged, I make you gay. When old, I am valued more than ever. What am I?” Another riddle in which I knew would go unappreciated and ignored. Kristen briefly looked up and actually visually acknowledged Ed before waiting for the answer.

“Wine. The answer is wine… And speaking of wine, I was wondering if you had wine plans this evening? And, And dinner of course” I cringed silently watching Ed attempt to impress Kristen. It also hurt my heart watching his awkward attempt to sway Miss Kringle for a date. Kristen stuttered for a moment obviously scrambling through her mind for an excuse.

“O-oh. Um. I’m sorry, Mr. Nygma, but I actually have plans tonight… With… With…”. Their painful conversation was interrupted by the file room door swinging open once more and Detective Arnold Flass entering the room. I looked back at Miss Kringle and it was clear an idea appeared immediately in her mind. And I knew exactly what she was thinking. “Arnold Flass! With Arnold Flass! I’m so sorry Mr. Nygma but I actually already had plans this evening with Detective Flass”. I saw Flass’ expression light up as Ed’s poor face simultaneously dropped. I placed my hand lightly on Ed’s back before ushering him back to the autopsy room with me.

“Oh I see. Well congratulations, sir. Have a wonderful evening”. Ed walked out with me depressed and down as I locked the door behind us. After I turned to my intern and subtly rushed them out of the laboratory I immediately sat at Ed’s side attempting to console him. Ed abruptly arose and took out a pair of gloves, snapping them against the skin of his wrists, and showing no emotional pain began to reexamine the body. I quickly grew concerned for Ed and the rejection he had just blatantly received.

“Ed? Are you okay?” I asked.

“Just. Peachy”, he bluntly responded. However, his blunt response was filled with a false contentment and satisfaction. It was clear he was not ‘peachy’ with the recent events.

“Do you need anything?”

“Three petri dishes would prove incredibly useful, thank you”. My emotional support was evidently rejected and I instead left him to his thoughts as we examined the victims carpals, metacarpals, and phalanges in pursuit of defensive wounds.

A long time of brutal silences passed and I realised I had to do something in order to bring Ed out of his miserable slump due to Kringle’s rejection.

“What’s your favourite takeout?” I asked unexpectantly before covering it with an additional question. “Could you pass me a cotton swab?” Handing me the cotton swab and an added Petri dish he became puzzled.

“Japanese takeout… Why do you ask such a peculiar question?” I laughed at his response.

“Well, don’t you ask peculiar questions frequently? I was wondering if to brighten your now dull and glum mood you would want to grab some after we finish here tonight?” After asking, I immediately presumed he would say no and would rather wallow in his self pity. But instead, he surprised me.

“I suppose it could prove quite a suitable distraction”, he grinned. His smile instantly brought out my own and we silently returned to examining different bones before clocking out of the lab.

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