What's In A Name?

Jason stared blankly at the screen of his laptop willing himself to pull out a plausible starting point of the events. He had the victim, the murderer, and the motive. All he needed was the method. The obvious ones that came to his mind were too common-place. He possibly could not put that into his novel. He got up, stretched, cracked his knuckles and walked towards the refrigerator. His hero, homicide cop Richard Bohm, stared at him from the posters of his novels – ‘Richard Bohm and Dark Side of the Moon’, ‘Richard Bohm and the Mason Crime’, ‘Richard Bohm in Jargon Mason Strikes Again’. He looked into the eyes of his strapping hero in a beige trench coat and smiled, “You sing your swan song now Rick. Its Jargon’s perfect crime this time.” Staring at Bohm’s weirdly named nemesis Jargon Mason, he sighed. He would miss writing the series. And to imagine his reader’s expression when they find out Rick finally meets his end at the hands of Mason. Very Sherlock Holmes-ish. Very Jason Morgan-ish in fact. Devoid of sappy happy endings. Why in fact should his story have a happy end when the whole concept of a ‘happy end’ is abstract, contrived and non-existent in the world around him?

He took out a bottle of his favourite Rowan’s Creek Whiskey and poured himself out a liberal amount. With the glass in his hands, he sagged into his favorite squishy armchair and went over the events in his mind. In an effort to save the life of his 9 year old daughter, Richard breaks his code of service and shoots down an unarmed henchman. His suspension from service had followed and to be honest, Richard wasn’t all disappointed. He did miss his job, but the quality time he got to spend with his daughter Cassidy was more than welcome to him. Jason wondered when exactly should he make Mason strike. When Richard goes to drop Cassidy to school? No, too many people and too open. He went over the options in his head. And then it struck him. The perfect place. The perfect time. The perfect crime. Satisfied with the idea, he got up and put on his travelling jacket and walked out of his apartment.

***

Homicide Detective Suzanne Salinger felt a pang of sadness as he looked at Jason Morgan’s undaunted figure on the chair. She had always idolized Richard Bohm and was in awe of the creator of the figure. She could not believe that such would be the turn of events. All those stories, all those crimes and Jargon Mason. Eoin Medley, her partner, had no such feelings. He sat grinning on the desk, having had the case of his life.

“So, Mr. Morgan, you bludgeoned  senior officer Frederick  Colfer on the head and then shoved the poison darts into his neck. That is your idea of the perfect crime?”

“No, my dear- “ he squinted at the name tag on his shirt- “Medley, my idea of a perfect crime is where there is no motive. And I never had any. Any ‘apparent’ motive that is,” he chuckled.

“And what was all that writing in blood in the alley walls? That ‘R.I.P. Richard Bohm’ thing?”

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Morgan snapped, “Its not supposed to be me commiting that murder is it? Its Jargon Mason doing it. That is exactly the sort of thing he would do. Don’t you have any common sense or what?”

Eoin shook his head, “I think I’ll let the court deal with you. You are looney aren’t you? Commiting crimes all these years just so you could write stories on them! Grow up ol’ man.”

Jason Morgan still had a slight smile on his face as the cops handcuffed him and started to lead him away.

“Mr. Morgan” Suzanne called at the last minute, unable to suppress the questions in her mind. “Mr. Morgan, I have a lot of questions for you, but just answer one before you leave. Why name Jargon Mason the way you did? I mean couldn’t a character based on yourself  be named better?”

“Ah, you silly young people. Don’t you understand anything at all? Place the two names Jason Morgan and Jargon Mason beside each other and search up the term Anagram on the net, will you?” Jason smiled as he walked away towards the prison doors.

THE END.