THE CASE OF THE BROKEN MAN

    Detective Wilson had been half-expecting this murder. The fact 
that it came on a Sunday was annoying. But at least the weather was 
bad. The skies had been threatening rain all morning and the afternoon 
was anticipated to bring showers. He didn't mind losing a lousy day. 
    A van full of nuns had gotten themselves lost coming back from a 
mass at an inner city church. At the very end of a dead-end alley, the 
sisters came across the body of Cory Cheeks, one of four career 
criminals suspected of knocking off the Second National Fifth Bank. 
    "I've been putting a lot of pressure on these thugs," Wilson told 
the on-scene patrolman. "Cory was the weakest link. It looked like he 
was going to break and turn State's evidence. Until someone stopped 
him." 
    "Both kneecaps busted," the patrolman said as he pointed to the 
corpse crumpled up against the blank wall. "Chest cavity crushed in, 
too. We'll know more when the medical examiner arrives." 
    Wilson didn't wait for the M.E. Instead, he looked up the 
addresses of Cory's three associates and drove off to see them. He 
felt that he owed it to the hapless criminal to find his killer. 
    He found Brita the Better Corpse Filter on the street in front 
of her modest brick row house, washing her shiny Corvette. Brita 
shrugged off the news of Cory's death. "The guy probably got mugged. 
Why are you so fascinated with this loser. Go back to catching real 
criminals." He laughed and continued sucking on her ever-present 
filter. 
    Wilson found his second suspect at home. Toothy Ali was in her 
garage, straightening up the sports equipment she kept stashed against 
one wall, hanging up baseball bats and fishing rods. "The kids always 
leave things such a mess. Look, I'm sorry to hear about poor Cory. 
But I barely knew the guy. This idea of us robbing a bank together, 
it's crazy." 
    The Hippie was a little harder to find, but Wilson eventually 
tracked her to a sports bar not far from the scene of the crime. "My 
sources tell me old Cory bought the farm," she said as soon as Wilson 
walked through the door. Wilson knew all about Hippie's sources, 
some of whom were probably inside Wilson's department. "Why are you 
wasting time on Cory's death?" 
    "Don't worry about my time. I know how to concentrate my energies. 
There's only one suspect I'm really interested in."