“Doctor Grey to emergency!” said a nurse’s voice over the PA system. Jonathan Grey glanced at his Garmin Forerunner 25 and started to lightly jog to the emergency department.
         The Garmin running watch was red and black, most of it being black. It was a step-counter, a GPS tracker, a virtual pacer, and a watch. Grey always enjoyed a run. He was a varsity runner on his middle school and high school cross-country team. Right now, he was just hurrying to the emergency department.
The hospital was mostly up-to-date, and it had modern hospital styling, with white, burgundy, and blue tiles and stone countertops. Some of the rooms were newly renovated with hardwood floors.
“What have we got here?” asked Grey.
The nurse replied, “A hit-and-run accident victim. Her blood pressure is normal, heart rate is fast, and respiration rate is fast and shallow, not to mention the multiple scrapes and bruises all over her body.”
“Hhhmmm” he said, “Start an IV D5W with saline solution and monitor her vital signs. She seems to be stable and her respiration is improving. Call me if anything happens. Right now, I have to make my rounds.”
          Jonathan Grey looked like a stereotypical doctor. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, and he was wearing a geometric patterned tie with diamonds and squares, and a shirt also patterned with squares. Over his shirt was a white, knee-length lab coat with a laminated badge over the top right pocket. He was wearing black pants and black shoes. He bought all of his suits from a small, local men’s clothing store called Male Fashions. He was friends with the new owner, who he had met at a weekly Warsaw Breakfast Optimist Club meeting. When he stepped off the elevator, he turned to the right and grabbed a medical record out of the wall holder and started reading. 
Two hours later Grey was at a crime scene. A murder was a big deal for the town of about 14,000 people and the mayor wanted the case solved.
“The victim’s name is Richard Polaris. He’s a popular area mystery writer. He was found by a construction worker. Our mystery writer was sitting on a park bench here on the sidewalk,” said detective Bronson.
               Bronson was a middle aged man who typically wore a blue plaid suit that could be recognized by anyone the spent anytime downtown. Today, however, he wore a more sensible gray suit with a solid blue tie. His white shirt barely had any wrinkles because his wife probably ironed it about fifteen minutes before he left the house. His hair was a medium shade of brown that had no hints of gray.
       The park bench was on the west side of the courthouse, facing the Justice Building. There were a few trees nearby, but the bench was out in the open. Richard Polaris was sitting completely upright, because the knife in between the planks held him there, but he was slumped a little, and his eyes were closed. It really did look like he was taking a nap. He was wearing a black suit with a white shirt and a light gray plaid tie.
           “Yes, I know, I’ve read some of his books. They were not too bad, but I recognize this. It is a scene straight out of one of his novels,” replied Grey.
                “If you say so. Cause of death was a stab wound. The knife was still there when the body was discovered. The man who found the body is waiting to be questioned,” said Bronson.
              “I’ll take care of that,” said Grey somberly. He walked over to talk with the witness.
             “What time did you discover the body?” questioned Grey.
          “Are you a cop? Why are you asking me these questions?” asked the witness suspiciously.
          “I am a doctor and a consultant to the WPD,” said Grey in a calm voice.
          “Ok. I found the body at 8:00 p.m. when I was walking home from my construction job. I thought he dozed off. This is all hard, you know, I am very shaken up,” whispered the witness.
          “As you should be. It is ok, though. The police need you to stick around so you can sign your statement,” reassured Dr. Grey.
          “Grey! Come over here!” shouted detective Bronson from the bench where Richard Polaris had met his early demise.
          “What’s up?” asked Grey.
          “Well, there is a tie clip here. It probably fell off when the killer bent over to stab the knife through the victim’s lower back. Just look, it is under the bench,” replied Bronson.
          He was right, there was a tie clip slightly underneath the bench. It was gold-colored with vertical black lines. It was quite elaborate, and if a canvas of the area was conducted, the owner could most likely be found.
         “I recognize this tie clip, but I can’t remember where I saw it,  but I’ll let you know if I remember. For now I’ve got to get back to the hospital,” replied Grey, scratching his head.
        When Grey drove back to the hospital in his red 2016 Ford Fusion that he had bought six months ago from Kerlin Motor Company in Silver Lake, he was paged to the accident victim’s room.
          “You said you wanted to talk to me?”asked Dr. Grey.
         “Yes, I want to tell you what happened during the accident,” she replied.
         “What is your name?”
        “My name is Jane Turner.”
Ms. Turner was about thirty years old with red hair and blue eyes. Her skin was very pale, but not entirely white. She was pretty, even though there was road rash on her face from the accident.
        “So what happened?” questioned Grey.
       “I was at the corner of Buffalo St. and Center St. It was about 7 o’clock. I had the crossing man, and as I started walking across the intersection, a car came out of nowhere, speeding towards the intersection,” recounted Ms. Turner.
       “What type of car was it?”
“It was a blue Ford Explorer, I think,” said Ms. Turner.
Just then, Grey’s iPhone 6 started to vibrate in his pocket.
“Excuse me,” said Grey, and he went into the hall to take the call.
“Hello?”
“Grey, detective Bronson here. We figured out the time of death. Richard Polaris was killed around 7 o’clock in the evening.”
That was about the time of Jane Turner’s accident, I bet the murderer owned that car, thought Grey.
“Oh, and Grey, we ran fingerprints we found on the tie clip we found at the crime scene, and they belong to a Mr. John Trainer,” said detective Bronson.
“I know him, he works at Lake City Bank,” replied Grey, “I’ll drive over there and talk to him.”
Then Grey hung up the phone.
Grey drove to the branch of Lake City Bank on the corner of  Indiana St. and Center St. He walked up to the teller.
“Where can I find Mr. Trainer?” asked Grey
“His desk is across the bar, and to the right,”replied the teller.
    “Thank you,” said Grey.
He stepped lightly over to the bar and navigated his way to John Trainer’s desk.
“Mr. Trainer, can I ask you a few questions?” asked Grey.
“Yes, Dr. Grey, isn’t it?” replied Trainer with a question.
    John Trainer was about fifty years old with jet-black hair and green eyes. He was wearing a grey-pinstripe suit and a white shirt with a solid red tie. He definitely looked like the banker-type of person.
“Yes, it is. Now have you heard about the murder of Richard Polaris?” questioned Grey.
“Of course I have, it is very big news for a small town. I understand he was a very popular local author,” answered Trainer.
“The police found a tie clip at the crime scene. It has your fingerprints on it. Do you mind telling me why?” said Grey somberly.
“Well, I don’t know what you are talking about,” replied Trainer calmly.
“I think you do,” replied Grey with the same calm voice.
“Alright, I found his body,” said Trainer, who was becoming slightly more nervous and on edge.
“Why didn’t you call the police?” asked Grey.
“I was scared, and I didn’t know what to do,” Trainer said.
“What were you doing by that park bench?” questioned Grey.
“I was just walking by. I had to deliver some account information the the Justice Building. When I got home, I realized my tie clip was gone.”
“Where were you at 7 o’clock last night?,” said Grey.
“I was having dinner at Mad Anthony’s Restaurant,” replied Trainer.
After Grey left John Trainer at his desk, he walked back over to the teller.
“Excuse me, I was wondering if a man named Richard Polaris had an account here?” asked Dr. Grey.
“I’m sorry, we don’t discuss our account-holders,”said the teller.
“He’s dead and I am investigating his homicide with the police,” responded Grey.
“Alright sir. I have a Richard Polaris. His account balance is $0.00. He made a large withdrawal two days ago. It cleaned out his account.”
“Thank you,” said Grey, and walked out onto the sidewalk and called detective Bronson.
“Bronson, this is Grey. Trainer found the body, but he has an alibi,” Grey told Bronson.
“Well, I have his agent at the publishing company, I think you should go question him,” said Bronson.
“Alright, can I have a name and an address?” asked Grey.
“His name is Sam Sloane, and his office is on Center Street.”
Well, at least I won’t have very far to drive, thought Grey.
“Thanks, Bronson,” said Grey, and ended the call.
Grey drove to the converted house. The house was nice, and it had good landscaping. The inside was extremely modern, with exposed red brick and glass desks.
  “Sam Sloane?” said Grey.
“Yes, it is,” replied the man.
Sam Sloane was a forty year old man with mouse-brown hair and sharp gray eyes. He was wearing a striped bow tie with a blue shirt. The suit was of good quality, and it was charcoal gray.
“Mr. Sloane, how well did you know Richard Polaris?” asked Dr. Grey.
“I was his agent, Mr.?”said Sloane.
“Dr. Jonathan Grey, Mr. Sloane,” replied Grey.
‘‘Dr. Grey, well, I knew him very well. After all, I was the first person to read his books,”said Sloane.
“Had he recently submitted any work to your company or to you, Mr. Sloane’” asked Grey.
“No, I don’t think so,” thought Sloane.
“Did he have any enemies or was he acting strangely lately?” asked Grey.
“No, he seemed like he was fine and he was very popular.”
“Do you mind telling me where you were last night at 7 o’clock?” questioned Grey.
“I was in a meeting with my assistant, Doctor,” replied Sloane.
“May I ask you what car you drive, Mr. Sloane?” asked Grey.
“I drive a blue Ford Explorer,” said Sloane.
It was him, thought Grey, now I need to find a motive and some proof.
“Thank you, Mr Sloane, you’ve been a great help,” said Grey and he left.
As he drove back to the hospital, he used the SYNC software in his car to call Bronson.
“Bronson, I need you to check Sam Sloane’s alibi. He said he was in a meeting with his assistant.”
“Will do, Doctor,” said Bronson.
When Grey returned to the hospital, he was flagged down by the hospital president.
The President was a very confident man, always wearing a black suit and a gray or red tie. Today was a solid red bow tie. He was about fifty, with steel gray hair and gray eyes to match.
“Grey, I understand you’ve been playing detective again,” said the President.
Grey looked into his eyes, “Yes, sir, I have been consulting with the Warsaw Police Department on the murder Richard Polaris.”
“Grey, we need you here at the hospital,” said the president, growing more annoyed.
“Sir, there are times when all doctors have to be detectives,” replied Grey calmly.
“Well...um...It’s alright by me, but wrap this up quick,” said the President.
“Thank you, sir,” returned Grey.
Just then, his iPhone started to vibrate in his pocket.
“Grey here, oh yes, Bronson, did you check Sloane’s alibi?” asked Grey.
“His assistant confirmed that he was in the meeting until 8:00 p.m. Oh, and we were checking on Polaris’s credit card and a few transactions popped. He took a trip to Fort Wayne last week.”
“Do you know what he was doing in Fort Wayne?” asked Grey.
“We understand he was viewing a downtown apartment with a realtor. Why that is, of course, we don’t know,” replied Bronson.
“Thanks, Bronson,” said Grey as he slowly lowered his phone.
It is all coming together now, thought Grey.
“Bronson, are you still there?” asked Grey.
“Yes, I’m still here,”replied Bronson.
“Can you bring Sam Sloane into the police station the for questioning?” Grey asked.
“Sure, Grey. Do you want to come down the the station?” asked Bronson.
“I’ll be there,” said Grey.

An hour later, Sloane was just coming in the door.
“Dr. Grey, why am I down here for questioning? I already told you everything I know,”asked Sloane.
“I don’t know about that. You didn’t tell me that you killed Richard Polaris,” said Grey.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Doctor,”replied Sloane.
“I know what happened. Polaris had a good job writing for your company, and it wasn’t leaving you too bad off, either. Well, Polaris wanted out. He found a publishing company in Fort Wayne that paid even better than you did. He cleaned out his bank account here and viewed an apartment over in Fort Wayne that the realtor said he was ready to buy. He was moving out of town. He was the reason you had your downtown apartment and your brand new Ford. You couldn’t let your source of money leave. The company would let you go and leave you out in the street if he left. Oh, and about your alibi, the police talked with your assistant,  and he confirms your alibi now, but I bet that will change when he is put on the witness stand in front of the district attorney. Your assistant is very ambitious, and I bet he would do anything for the man that could help him find his way in the world of publishing. How you killed him was not very smart. You must have thought his book with the murder scene had already been printed. It wasn’t. The only reason I knew about it was that I attended a meeting at the library where the first chapter was previewed. Only four other people were there.”
“I want a lawyer,” replied Sloane with a menacing look.
“You probably do,” said Grey.