“He shat him when he walked in and saw them together. Then he shat her,” said the cop.

“I see,” said Detective Black. He’d only been a detective for two months and had just transferred to Buffalo. “Do you think they loved each other?”

No answer.

“Is there a witness?” Black asked. The cop nodded. “Well, where is he?”

“She,” the cop corrected, “is outside.”

Having got what he wanted, Black creaked down the wooden stairs of the old colonial and stopped in the living room. There was a davenport against the far wall, a clean ash tray on the coffee table in front of it, and a dark blue beanbag chair near the TV, which threw the whole room off.

Black went outside. The lights from the police cars circumnavigated the premises. The night was the color of the beanbag chair he’d just seen.

“Where’s the witness?” Black asked an officer.

“She’s in the care.”

“The what?”

“The care.” As he spoke, the officer pointed to a police car in the driveway.

Black was new to Buffalo. He walked to the car and looked inside. Shit, he thought, when he saw the witness. Alicia Sanure, age six, with her hands wrapped around her knees.

 “Hi there. What’s your name?” said Black. Silence. “My name’s Detective Black.”

She looked at him, her eyes blood shot presumably from crying. “I don’t think yer a detective,” she said.

Black was intrigued. Anything to get her talking. “May I ask why not?”

“Because you don’t have a magnifying glass.”

He decided to play along. “Well, you’re right. I’m not the real detective. I’m his assistant. We try to solve puzzles. Do you like puzzles, Alicia?”

She turned in her seat to face him. “I do. I’m very good at them too.” Luckily, she didn’t notice her mother’s body being carried out of the house in a black bag. Followed by her mother’s lover.

“Maybe you could help me.” He paused. “Wait. I think it’s against the rules, unless…Are you, by chance, a certified detective?”

“Yes, I am,” she said. Her eyes, though still red, showed promise.

“Wow, that’s lucky. So you know all about protocol then, right? It’s a big mess, but somebody’s gotta do it.” She nodded and smiled at this. “Okay, first things first. We have to know all about what happened upstairs tonight. I know it’s hard, but that’s what being a detective’s all about. Are you still with me?” She envied him for being a grownup. Black whipped out a pen and paper playfully. “For the record,” he started, “is your name Miss Alicia Sanure?”

“Yes. And I’m six-years-old.” She held up her fingers to prove it.

“You’re doing great.” Black started. “I’ll have to tell my boss about you. Now comes the hardest part. I want you to tell me everything that happened tonight, starting with when you got home from school.”

“That’s not hard at all. I got home from school,” she said professionally, “and sat in my beanbag chair to watch Sponge Bob. Then I heard noises coming from upstairs. It sounded like Mommy so I went to see her. And that’s when Daddy got home from work...”