When Kate left, Gregson relaxed. He always felt on edge with a woman around. Maybe it was because he couldn’t figure them out. Gregson relied on his intuition the way most seasoned investigators do, and right now, he sensed that he should give Murphy a call. He dialed using his old rotary phone and waited for the detective to pick up.

“This is Murphy.”

“It’s Gregson; you referred a woman to me.”

“Oh yeah, Gregson. I haven’t talked to you in a while. How’ve you been?

“Just waiting for something to happen; and yourself?”

“It’s a grind; crime is so commonplace these days, although the case I sent you is different.”

“I sensed that. Would you care to play 9 holes on the city’s time and talk about it?”

“You read my mind. I’ll meet you at Chessfield Golf Course in one hour.”

“Deal,” Gregson said. He hung up. Murphy was competitive and Gregson wanted to beat him. His golf clubs had cobwebs between them, but he brushed them off anyway, ready to do battle. Gregson did his best thinking on the golf course because the game had purity; it was a way to measure if he still had it. He walked onto the putting green. His regular putter was just like a belly putter. Gregson had to lose weight. He choked up and plopped his ball in the hole.

“Bet you can’t do that on the golf course,” Murphy said.

“How much you wanna bet?” Gregson asked.

“Shall we play for 10 dollars a hole?”

“You’re on!”

Murphy teed it up. He took a practice swing.

“Come on, this isn’t the PGA!” Gregson said.

Murphy drove his ball 300 yards.

“God, do you sleep with that thing?”

“If it gave me pleasure, I would!” Murphy laughed.

Gregson teed it up and swung. His ball went 150 yards.

“Kinda weak.”

“You drive for show and putt for dough,” Gregson said. “Now what do you know about this woman you sent me?”

“I didn’t want to alarm her, but there have been several grisly murders in the area.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, a ghoulish affair. We think an animal is doing it; probably a canine.”

“Would you be able to show me one of the crime scenes?” Gregson asked.

“Yeah, I’ll take you there after the game.

Gregson lined up his putt on the last hole.

“That’s a 13-footer,” Murphy said.

Gregson took aim and fired. It lipped the cup.

“This is for 10 dollars,” Murphy said. He knocked his ball into Gregson’s and it went in.

“Why is it that you can’t just win; you have to bring chaos into the game?” Gregson asked.

“I call it Murphy’s Law. If something goes wrong, it all goes wrong.”

2 thoughts on “Chapter 2 Murphy’s Law

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