Past Imperfect

Past Imperfect – #548

Arrogant Detective: “Are you actually telling me that you can’t identify the person driving this car?”

Frustrated Potential Witness Who Didn’t Really See Anything: “How on earth am I supposed to know that?”

Detective: “Don’t trifle with me. The security camera at Beulah’s Emporium of Wanton Sex Toys captured you in this very spot when the crime was being committed. We know you didn’t do it, because you were making things all about yourself, regurgitating the evening’s libations into the gutter in a careless manner. But the confiscated film clearly shows you looking out into the street at the very moment the shot was fired.”

Witness: “The shot? Please don’t say that word. I’m getting wobbly at the mere mention. I just want to go home and eat an entire pizza before my head explodes.”

Detective: “Again with the self-centeredness. No wonder this country now has an idiot as a president. I should take you in just for being obstinate. You might have avoided jury duty with your weak lie about having to care for an elderly relative that doesn’t exist, but you’re in a pickle now.”

Witness: “Wait, how do you know about my aunt… what did I say her name was?”

Detective: “I know this because everything you’ve ever done is now on the Internet, in full technicolor and bulging with trashy links that you can click on and watch stupid ads for things that you are never going to buy. Say, maybe you should do that so it will jog your fogged memory.”

Witness: “Do what? I am so confused about everything right now. It’s just like my first marriage.”

Detective: “Go on the Internet and see if you can figure out who is driving that car.”

Witness: “But why would I do that? How would I do that? You already said I did nothing wrong and now you want me to decipher something I don’t care about? Why are you doing this to me?”

Detective: “Because this is Bonnywood Manor, where we are all about the trivia. And we know that at least one person reading this post will dig deep and figure out who is driving that Lincoln Continental Landau.”

Witness: “I hate you a little bit right now.”

Detective: “And that reminds me of my first marriage.”


Note: Tags that would normally assist you in resolving this mystery are intentionally not being mentioned, because doing so would muck up the challenge. Go forth and click!

Originally published in “Crusty Pie” on 09/01/17. No changes made. Those of you who are especially industrious may try to find that original post on Crusty, wherein there are comments to be reviewed that will give you hints. (There’s even a correct response from a long-time Bonnywood guest, but she was gracious enough to not fully reveal her answer yet still let me know that she knew.) I’ll try to keep an eye on this post and let loose with some of the hints I loosened over there, but you know how I am. If something shiny catches my attention I may not get back to this post for three days. Bonne chance!


14 replies »

  1. I’m confused. Tags? Cars? Drunken projectile issues? What’s going on? I didn’t really see anything either. I’m a lot like the witness. Oh no! Maybe I AM the witness (generic dramatic music plays in the background)!
    Help! I’m living inside a Past Imperfect! How do I get oooouuut???🤪

    Liked by 1 person

    • Me thinks you are protesting far too much, which, based on way too many crime-procedural dramas I’ve perused in the past, indicates that you are, indeed, resoundingly guilty of something. Exactly what that might be is not clear, but I’m keeping my eye on you…

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I know who that is. And Landau? I don’t see any Landau associated with that car…it’s a hard top, maybe circa MY generational year.. The person in that car is…. .*SHRIEKING AS EVERYTHING GOES BLACK* and another witness disappears.

    Liked by 1 person

    • See, now you’re slipping into that mystical language only spoken by car aficionados like my partner. I’d ask him to come translate, but at this current early-morning hour, he is sawing logs with a vengeance. But I do like the bit at the end with the shrieking and the disappearing. Bonus points for that…

      Liked by 1 person

      • My fascination comes from being raised with brothers and no sisters. I’ve never gotten the whole women bonding by shopping and doing fou-fou spa days at all. Landaus (when they made them…I think they went out of style in the early 80s) are those cars that have those cutesy little leather or vinyl or whatever the damned fabric/material IS (told ya. No womanly preoccupations in my brain) ‘bonnets’ on the back of the hard top (which is your standard car that isn’t a convertible.) You’ve seen them surely? I owned a 1978 Nova for about six months (which is how long I was able to afford the thing. I made $2.85 an hour and the payments cost more than my entire paycheck for two weeks. Not good.) and it had a Landau top. And I remember thinking that I’d never own one again because those things are a bitch to maintain.

        Liked by 1 person

    • In today’s parlance of everyone getting a trophy just for showing up: “That was a really lovely try. Thank you for participating!” In yesterday’s parlance where you kinda had to get it right to win: “No.”

      Said with love, of course.

      Liked by 1 person

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