Excerpt
Wednesday aftermoon, February 16, 1999
A solitary, deep bong resounded from the antique mantel clock lovingly restored by Sergeant-Detective Emile Cinq-Mars and placed on the top shelf of his office cubicle the same day the department had installed a computer on his desk. "What coincidence?" he'd snapped at the first person daring to ask the question. "A mouse needs a clock. If I'm under orders to live with one, the rest of you can damn well live with the other. Like it or not."
If a riddle was involved, his colleagues presumed that an explanation would not be forthcoming anytime soon.
Copyright 2001 by John Farrow