When Major Jones walked in the room he was greeted with a strange sight. Detective Hunt was drumming both his hands on the desk staring straight at a packet of pills, with all the pills on show. The Major simply nodded as he spoke, “Detective Hunt.”
Detective Hunt looked up immediately at the Major’s address then proceededto stand, “Sir.” The Detective started, then added hastily “Could I interest you in a port, some gin and tonic, some rum or perhaps some red or white wine, a glass of chilled rosé?” The Detective stopped and threw the Major the packet of pills, his voice violently calming, “or would you rather take some whiskey with that?”
Major Jones stopped for a moment looking at Detective, “I do not want or require alcohol Detective,” Major Jones simply stated before he threw the pills back onto the desk, “now are we here to talk about Colonel Jefferson’s murder or not?”
“You tell me.” The Detective put his hands back into his pockets as the words left his mouth and he came so he stood opposite Major Jones. “Tell me why there is whiskey inside one pill pocket and not the other three that have been opened. What happened that night?”
The Major kept his gaze as he spoke, “On the night myself and Father Miles accompanied the Colonel to the house, as I’m sure is the night you are referring to Detective, we had a small drink. We were sitting together in the dining room with our various choice of drinks and talking, as military men do, amongst ourselves. When the time arose we got the Colonel his sleeping pill, which he drank with a glass of water, then when our drinks were empty, they were put to one side and we all went to bed.”
“A glass of water you say?” The Detective asked him.
“Pure and alcohol free,” Major Jones replied simply.
“And what was the Colonel drinking apart from water?” The Detective asked.
“Whiskey,” Major Jones said simply.
“Did anything strange happen that night Major Jones, sir?” The Detective requested.
“At 1100 we went to bed but at 1110 I heard the door lock. I called out and it was the Colonel who replied.”
“What did the Colonel say to you?”
“He said it was him, he apologised saying it was a force of his sleeping habit and we would be released in the morning. Then he continued to lock all the doors in the house.”
“How long did it take him?”
“An hour before the final door was locked,” Major Jones′ words spread out into the room resting there for a long moment before the Detective spoke,
“Do you drink Major Jones?”
“I am partial to red wine but I have no need of alcohol.”
“Well come come, I have fine wine here. It might help to clear your mind,” without hesitation the Detective went over to the desk and poured the Major some red wine. Bringing it over he placed the wine into Major Jones’ hand and took out his whiskey flask,
“To restful nights,” The Detective raised his flask as he said it. They both drank the liquid then Major Jones let his glass fall and shatter on the ground,
“I have no need of alcohol. Detective.” Then Major Jones turned and walked calmly out the door.