A Case of Murder by J. Hopkins posted:

By the time the cab arrived at Mrs. Dollarbourne's enormous swampside mansion, Hank was feeling the full effects of stage one heroin withdrawal. It had been five minutes since his last shot. He tried to slap away imaginary insects while Catherine rattled on about details on the murder that he probably really should have been paying attention to.
They stepped out of the cab. Hank leaned over to pay the driver, but upon noticing that he was of Oriental descent, instead took out his sidearm and shot the man in the face six times.
"Do you have more bullets?" he asked Catherine.
"More than enough to kill a husband." she replied, opening her purse and giving him a handful of bullets.
Hank reloaded and shot the driver several more times.
"Why did you do that?" Catherine asked Hank as they walked down the mansion's driveway.
"I remembered seeing the files on a burglary seven years ago. This man did it." Hank replied, bored.
"You remembered his face? Remarkable." said Catherine.
"Well, he looked like this guy. I mean, come on. They all look the same. Take me to the scene of the crime."
Hank followed Catherine into the house and admired the expensive ethnic and historical furnishing of the place. Finally, they came upon the drawing room. Hank pushed through the litter of crayons and pencils and glanced at the corpse of an old man lying on the floor, shot in the back five times.
"Your late husband?" Hank inquired.
"Hm? No." Catherine replied.
They entered the bedroom, where Catherine stepped over the corpse of an old, fat man and proceeded to drape herself over the bed. Hank bent over the corpse and fingered the seven bullet holes in the back of the man's head.
"Your late husband?" Hank inquired.
"Oh, that? Yeah." Catherine replied, disinterested. "Want to have sex? With me?"
Hank ignored her amorous intentions and quickly frisked the body. There was a syringe of heroin in the front pocket. Hank thoughtfully punched the needle into his groin as he mused on the circumstances of the crime.
"Was the body moved?" Hank asked Catherine, who was busily undressing herself.
"Yes." she replied. "He was killed in the dining room, but his jacket didn't match the curtains. Want to do it on top of him?"
"Yes." Hank said, sporting a grade-A chubby, "But first I'd better solve this murder. Do you know who did it?"
"No." said Catherine.
"Well, I'm out of ideas." said Hank, undoing his belt.

Fifteen seconds later Hank pulled his pants back up.
"Sorry about that." he told Catherine. "Now, I'd best interrogate all your personnel to find out who killed this guy."
"If you must." Catherine sighed, extracting a blood-spattered revolver from her purse and casually reloading it.
Within the hour, the mansion's staff had gathered in the room, most of them nursing recent gunshot wounds.
"Hi." Hank said jovially. "So… murder anyone lately?"
He scanned the personnel for reactions, but could find none. Obviously they were made of sterner stuff, and none of them looked obviously foreign, which made Hank's job even more difficult. He was probably going to have to make an effort. He sighed, in a whining manner.
"You! What's your job?" Hank ejaculated suddenly.
"I'm the maid." replied the person in whose direction Hank had ejaculated. "I'll get a cloth."
"Sorry about that." Hank said, and turned to a man carrying a rake. "How about you?"
"I'm the gardener." said the man, flexing his glistening pectoral muscles in a hypnotic manner. "I tend to the garden, and sometimes function as a male prostitute for Mrs. Dollarbourne."
Hank wiped absently at a bit of drool in the corner of his mouth. "Fascinating. Where were you at the time of Mr. Dollarbourne's murder?"
"I was making the love to his wife, in the dining room." the gardener answered.
Hank had to force his hand to stop rhythmically squeezing his own manbreasts.
"So you were alone with her when the murder happened?" he asked swiftly.
"Well, no." said the gardener. "At one point she interrupted our lovemaking to take a pistol out of her handbag, left the room, and after I heard seven gunshots, she returned slightly covered in blood. We then resumed."
"Hot." Hank whispered under his breath. "And you, the fellow in the disquietingly snug bathing costume?"
"I'm the poolboy." this character answered. "And at times I please Mrs. Dollarbourne. In the butt."
"Noted." Hank said, though he carried no writing materials of any sort and was essentially lying. "Guy in chef hat?"
"I'm the chef. I've been known to place myself in Mrs. Dollarbourne's mouth at her request." replied the man.
"Check. Dude with cap?"
"Chauffeur. She takes me in her hands."
"Fair enough. Boy in boots?"
"Stablehand… Armpit."
"Gross. Guy with the net?"
"Fishtank cleaner. Left ear."
"I refuse to believe that's possible. Leash guy?"
"Dogwalker. Nostrils."
"Really? Well, they are pretty big. Man with domineering mustache?"
"I forget my regular job, but bellybutton…"

Fifteen intense seconds later, Hank had exhausted his line of questioning.
"Well, I've heard enough." he said. "I can tell you now with absolute certainty that Mr. Dollarbourne was, in fact, not murdered. He was -- in fact -- killed by a wild animal, most likely a bear, that --"
Hank stopped his soliloquy for a moment, interrupted by a loud sound.
"Catherine, did you just shoot me?" he inquired.
"No." she answered, lowering a smoking pistol.
"Oh. Okay." Hank said, inexplicably experiencing rapid loss of blood from a hole in his neck. "Anyway, as I was saying, the bear most likely -- unconsciously -- disguised itself as a singing telegram delivery boy, thereby gaining virtually unlimited access to the house. It then stumbled into the kitchen to hibernate, lamentably catching Mr. Dollarbourne there and brutally slaughtering him as a bear is prone to do."
"But what about the seven bulletholes." the gardener inquired confusedly. "In the back of his head. ARGHL." Gurgling, he went down as Catherine shot him briskly in the chest.
"Yes, I have wondered about that." Hank continued, becoming less coherent by the second due to massive neck trauma. "My only conclusion can be that the shock of sudden bear assault drove Mr. Dollarbourne into a tremendous depression, upon which he decided to commit suicide by shooting himself, in the back of the head. Seven times."
"Are you sure about all of this? GRFTH!" the poolboy asked, just before keeling over backwards with a bullethole between his eyes.
"I'd better wrap this up," Hank stated, feeling unconsciousness set in and the cold black embrace of death welcoming him. "I realize this may be difficult to accept, but in some cases, there is no guilty party. Nature knows neither cruelty nor morality; it simply is."
Swaying, Hank turned to Catherine, who was busily rubbing down the handle of her pistol with a handkerchief.
"I'll be leaving now. Catherine, my payment?"
"I never said I was going to pay you." she said absently, wringing the gun into the hand of one of the many corpses littering the floor.
"Oh. Well." stuttered Hank. "Can I have some money?"
"Go away." Catherine said.
"Of course." Hank muttered, turning around. "I'll go away... Catherine... or should I say... DOCTOR TETANUS?"
Spinning, Hank drew his revolver and let off a flurry of shots. The body hit the floor with a heavy thud.
"That was my dog. You just shot my dog." said Catherine. "Why did you think that was Doctor Tetanus?"
"I don't know what he looks like." Hank croaked. "Wild guess. Sorry." His mouth was very dry, except for all the blood flooding into it.
"Well, my work here is done." continued Hank, stumbling into the hallway. A repetition of gunshots sounded behind him as Catherine proceeded to shoot the remainder of her personnel.
"Another case solved... for... for Hank..." Hank didn't get to finish his sentence as, just before reaching the front door, he fell over and crashed into the umbrella stand shaped like an elephant's foot.
"I always knew it would end like this." he thought.
A sudden gust of wind rattled the coat rack and caused a business card to drift out from the pocket of one of Catherine's fur coats. It fell just right so Hank could read it. In embossed golden letters, it said: "Doctor Tetanus - for all your crimes."
"NOOO!" Hank meant to shout, but he was dead.

The end...?