The Enigma's Anomaly

The Innocence of Michael James Way

Mikey is behind one of those glass window things with the telephone, and it's really disheartening to see the guy sitting there. He doesn't belong behind that glass, I do. I hate seeing him actually in prison. He's actually a felon at the moment.

It hasn't been awful for him yet, but his trial is in a week which means that he has approximately eight days to live. I decide not to tell him that though, because he really doesn't need to know he's going to die unless it's actually going to happen. I will not let him go down for this though. I would sooner turn myself in, but I'm really hoping that I don't have to do that.

"Mikey, there's a few things that aren't adding up about what happened. I looked at the police report, okay?" I start and Mikey nods, "but the times on here don't make sense. You reported a broken lock on your door, and didn't touch anything, right?"

"Except the doorknob, I didn't touch anything."

"Explain how you found your apartment, how did you know it was broken into immediately?"

"Well I got home and put the key in the lock, but it didn't turn so I tried the door and I just figured I'd left it unlocked or something. When I opened it I saw that the lock was completely broken so that's how I knew. Why do you ask?"

"Well that's what the problem is. You had to have touched the doorknob to have realized that it was broken because it wasn't ajar or anything, according to the report," I continue.

"Okay?"

I begin my analysis, "So I looked through the report even more and I saw that it only took four minutes for police to respond to your call. That's way too quick for the police to have come. It should've taken them several more minutes, and a robbery isn't exactly high priority so it might have even been hours, but it was only four minutes."

"Well the guy said that he was in the neighborhood."

"Yeah, but you live on the fourteenth floor of your building, correct?"

"Yes," Mikey says and Gerard is starting to look at me curiously too.

"Well unless he was waiting right outside your apartment building, then there's no way he could've possibly gotten all the way up to the fourteenth floor in four minutes. The elevator would have been too busy at that time of the night, and the stairs wouldn't really have been an option either because then he'd have gotten there and been all sweaty and tired, because that's a lot of stories to climb in under four minutes."

"What are you getting at?"

"Well it's possible that someone had previously reported a crime in that building and that's why he was there, but I think it's unlikely. I'm going to take it up with the arresting officer, but it doesn't make any sense. Then there's the matter of the fingerprints," I say.

"What fingerprints?"

"See that's the thing," I say, "there were no finger prints almost anywhere there should have been. There were no fingerprints on the kitchen counters, there weren't any on the coffee table, none on that laptop, and most especially none on the drawer where the gun was being kept, and none on that doorknob. Not a single pair. It was wiped clean. Now if the police were trying to convict you for attempted murder they would have been much more careful than as to contaminate your apartment. So why is it that almost every daily-used surface in your apartment was wiped clean?"

"I... I don't know?"

"But the biggest worry is that the doorknob and drawer with the gun were wiped clean. Mikey, when you entered your apartment you grabbed the doorknob?"

"That's right, I did," he says and Mikey is looking at me like he knows that I'm onto something.

"And if you entered your apartment by grabbing the doorknob then how come your fingerprints weren't found on it?"