The Klumps Mysteries: Season One

Episode Summaries

Episode One – Murder at the Diner

When a body is found behind a diner, inexperienced and hard drinking Police Commissioner Don Klump has his first murder case. He and his team explore the treacherous underbelly of the town.

Is it the dog walker? The victim's girlfriend? Or someone even closer to him?

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Episode Two – The Painting

When a painting disappears from a local museum, an inebriated Don Klump makes finding it a department priority. The investigation takes an ominous turn when someone kills the curator.

Who stole the painting? Why? The Klumps brave the seedy world of art to find out.

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Episode Three – The Mole

A suspect is murdered and evidence goes missing. A cop car is damaged. Worst of all, the Klumps suspect one of their own is responsible.

Is it the forensics assistant? The reporter who is hellbent on bringing down the department? And who is the mysterious woman pulling the strings?

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Episode Four – The Warehouse

Deputy Commissioner Libby Klump makes a gruesome discovery while looking for a lost pet. Meanwhile, Don Klump and the rest of the police department hunt for a killer nurse after the Medical Examiner discovers that poison played a role in a disgraced officer's death. They continue investigating the mole. Don and Libby can't help thinking that these and their prior cases are related.

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Episode Five – Counting the Bodies

The warehouse investigation continues.

With the crime rate rising faster than gas prices, the Klumps face off with the Town Council about the police budget. Deputy Chalmers must brave Methton alone while ghost-fearing Tom is put in charge of exhuming the body of a suspected murder victim.

Meanwhile, time runs short for two small girls.

What can possibly go wrong?

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Episode Six – Travis and Chester

The warehouse investigation hits a snag when the detectives discover the Medical Examiner might be involved.

In the meantime, Don Klump and his team race to find Travis Quinton, prime suspect in two murders and child kidnapping.

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Episode Seven – Follow the Scent

Libby takes charge of the police department as evidence is destroyed. Her husband and Commissioner is missing and may have been abducted, unless he's lying drunk in a ditch somewhere or with another woman. He better not be.

Deputies Lucus and Tom close in on the Ice Queen when they discover the identity of her right hand man.

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Episode Eight – Revelations

The final episode of Season One. Many loose ends are tied, while some are inadvertently (or on purpose???) unraveled.

Libby Klump faces off with the Town Council while an assassin lies in wait.

The police department scrambles to find their chief before it's too late.

Don Klump has a battle of wits with his captor.

Oh dear.

Episode One

Murder at the Diner

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The phone jarred Police Commissioner Don Mettler-Klump awake. His wife Libby groaned in disapproval and fell back asleep.

Hello? Don's deep voice reverberated in the receiver.

Sorry to wake you sir, a deputy said. They found a dead corpse by the diner.

What time is it?

Just past 11, sir.

You sure it's dead? Don rubbed his forehead.

Yes sir.

And it's a corpse?

Yep.

Alright. We'll be right over. Call Peggy. I guess we'll need her.

Yes sir.

Don put the light on and gently shook his wife. Honey, we have to go. Someone died by the diner.

A clump of curly black hair emerged from under the covers. His wife squinted at him. What time is it?

Eleven something.

I'm not awake yet.

They found a dead body. Police work, my honey pie. Don't come if you don't want. But last case you yelled at me for not waking you.

I never yelled. She stretched out of bed with a yawn. And getting the kitten out of the tree was dangerous work. You have allergies.

We gotta keep quiet though, Don whispered. Don't want your mom to come with us.

There came a knock on the door. Leeeeee-ber-taaaaaaaaaaaad! You awake? We got a case, let's go! Marcy's voice could raise the dead.

Don sighed. How'd she find out?

Libertad dressed. Coming mom! To Don she said, they must've called Tom and he told her.

Stupid Tom.

Don't make fun of my brother.

Okay, Don rolled his eyes. Let's go. The door handle fell out of his hands. He swore.

My dad probably borrowed the screws to fix the lawn mower, Libby explained.

Don drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in the darkness. I don't understand why she has to come. And why can't your dad drive her? And what's with the lawn mower? Like he'll ever use it.

Libertad snored in reply.

Marcy stomped out of the house half an hour later, a canvas supermarket bag in the crook of her elbow. She woke her daughter and made her get in the back.

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The flashing lights of a few squad cars and an ambulance greeted them at the scene.

What's going on, Lucus? Don asked.

Hey chief. We got a dead body in back of the diner. Looks like Joe McCaliker.

He owns the place, right?

Yes sir.

Peggy here yet?

Came about ten minutes ago.

Alright. This way?

Yeah.

Peggy's assistant Duncan took photos. The town's forensics expert rolled toward Don to give her report. Evening Chief, Deputy Chief.

Hey Peggy. What we got?

Dead male, thirties. Two gun shot wounds. One in the gut, the other in the back of the head. He fell forward after the gut wound. Then the killer shot him point blank from behind. Recovered two shell casings. She pointed at faint chalk outlines on the concrete. ID on the vic says it's Joe McCaliker. Probably taking out the trash when it happened.

You check inside yet? Libertad yawned.

No sign of disturbance. Cash still in the register.

So it wasn't a robbery, Don mused over the body. Libertad helped him put his latex gloves on.

Okay people, Marcy clapped to get everyone's attention. "I know what to do. I watch Dexter. Now the blood spatter pattern over here is indicative of suicide. As you may be aware, we have an unusually high suicide rate in this town. I suspect it's the fluoride or microwaves..."

Peggy Johnson scowled. Mrs. Klump, please don't disturb the crime scene. Don, she really can't be here. Especially after what happened. Peggy referred to Marcy's handling of a previous case. The incident ruffled a bigwig's feathers. The Town Council, wrapping up a previous investigation of the police department, passed a sternly worded resolution to fire Marcy. As the politicians controlled the budget, Don did as they wished (though in truth he could've been more direct with her than having Libby make up some lie about there not being enough money to keep her on full time).

Don sighed and shot his wife a look. Libertad shrugged. Don motioned to Deputy Chalmers. Lucus, can you please assist Mrs. Klump over there? Help her find clues beyond the yellow tape. Thanks.

Sure thing Don.

As Don continued questioning Peggy and examining the evidence, shiny plastic caught Libertad's eye. She stooped to pick it up, revealing her butt crack. Fermented tofu, she read the ingredients on the food wrapper before crinkling it into her coat pocket and hoisting up her pants. They immediately rolled down under her small belly pouch.

Libby. Come 'ere. That look like a footprint to you?

Yeah.

What is that, mud?

Dog poopers, I think.

Duncan, take a couple of pictures of this. Peggy, you're gonna get a mold, right?

Already on it, the muscular woman rummaged behind her wheelchair.

Don stroked his chin. What we got in the way of witnesses?

Nothing that I know, Peggy said. Lucus might have something.

Don squinted toward the edge of the parking lot where Marcy gesticulated at Deputy Chalmers. Alright. I'll ask him later. I think I'm gonna get that book at the library. On police procedure. Joe's death was the town's first murder to Don's knowledge. People died, naturally. As for the occasional unnatural death, the town's previous coroner, Libby's mother, had ruled them all suicides.

Good idea.

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Who called this in? Don asked the sleepy faces around the conference table in the morning.

They didn't give their name. It was a man, Jackie said.

You took the call?

Yeah.

Okay. Don leafed through a children's detective manual Libertad downloaded and printed for him. The library was closed at this hour, and Don just learned that waking the librarian at her home was not the best idea. He rubbed his shoulder where the she hit him with an encyclopedia. He paused, his other finger resting on a key paragraph. Peggy, can you trace the call?

On it.

They don't have to call you again or anything? And then you have to keep them talking for a while so the trace does its thing? 'Cause I'm sure Marcy will be more than happy to take over phone duties.

No. We should have a record of the number. And I'll have the gun information for you as soon as the new coroner is done with the body.

Great. Libby and I will be at the coroner's. The rest of you canvas for witnesses. Call when you find something.

Peggy called en route with the name and address of the caller. Don dropped Libertad off at the Medical Examiner's office and headed to interview one Robert Powell of Sycamore Drive.

Libertad didn't look forward to meeting the new coroner by herself, but she agreed this would save time. She knocked on the door of the cooled room, suppressing a shudder so as to appear professional.

Come in, come in. I'm not doing anything unseemly.

Libertad took a deep breath and waddled in. Are you the new coroner?

Name's Mort Freeman. A tall man in a lab jacket smiled down at her, his buck teeth pearl white.

Deputy Chief Libertad Klump-Mettler. Nice to meet you. Whatchyou eating?

Peanut butter and jelly. Go ahead and help yourself. An extra one's over there.

Thank you, Libertad brightened. Nothing like a mid morning snack. It's safe to eat in here?

Yeah, why not?

With the dead body and all...

Mort shrugged. The old man seemed experienced enough. He explained about the bullet wounds and angles and a bunch of other complicated stuff. She could usually focus on one thing at a time and the sandwich won out. Libertad made noises as she ate. Mort took these as assent to one of his questions. As a result she was treated to a puppet show of sorts with Joe McCaliker as the star.

When she left, Libby forgot all about what Mort had told her. Good thing that he gave her a printed report with pictures. The peanut butter and jelly thumbprint next to Mort's signature reminded Libertad of the delicious sandwich she had eaten. She liked Mort.

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A dog barked at Don when a gaunt man answered the door. Mr. Powell? Don flashed his badge. The man's eyes widened. It's okay. Just here to ask a few questions, if you don't mind.

Powell muttered something inaudible, stepped out on his porch, and closed the door behind him. His thin, long gray hair streamed behind him as he crossed his arms. His open bathrobe flapped in the wind. Don avoided looking in that direction.

You called the police last night, Mr. Powell?

That was supposed to be arnomynous, he coughed.

Apparently it's not. Didn't even have to trick you into it or anything. I actually know a lot about you. On the ride over Peggy sent me some information she gleaned from your Facefriend or Bookface, or whatever the hell it's called. Your dog's name is Dan, for example.

Powell glowered. That's private.

Oh yeah? I guess they make it visible for the police account? I don't know. Libby's pretty analog, and I just visit the news sites, you know? And Netflix. But that's 'cause we don't have a TV. Don shifted from one foot to the other and cleared his throat. Sir, would you mind closing your robe?

What is it, against the lar?

Going commando? I don't know. I'll ask around...Uh, anyway, I came by just to ask what exactly you saw last night.

Nothin'

But you called it in. Obviously you saw something.

A body.

Right. What were you doing there, may I ask?

No.

Sorry, uh. That was just a figure of speech. What were you doing there?

Walking my dog.

Behind the diner? It's kind of far from your house, isn't it?

I like to walk.

Fair enough. Kind of a weird place to walk your dog though, no?

Powell glared.

Did you see anything or anyone suspicious?

No. Just the body.

Did you know Joe McCaliker?

No.

Just one more question. How soon after you found the body did you report it?

Right away.

Okay then. If you think of anything else, please give me a call. Don handed Powell a piece of paper with his phone number. He'd been meaning to get cards. I might come back with more questions.

The door slammed in his face.

Well, thanks for your help, Don returned to his car.

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Back at the station, Don flipped through the coroner's report. Says here the time of death is between 9:30 and 10:30 PM last night. Two shots, one in the gut, one in the head. The one in the head killed him. Don stroked his chin. Libby snored in the chair next to him.

Don shuffled through the papers on the conference table. Where was that call log? He meant to put it in the folder marked klews, but he couldn't find it either.

He glanced at his to be filed pile, a mountain of documents just below the missing persons bulletin board (which Marcy papered over with printouts of inedible recipes). Don shuddered. He'd look in there only if he had to.

Arthur the janitor clattered in with a broom, singing.

Don started. He'd concentrated so hard that he dozed off too. He rubbed his eyes and asked Libertad's uncle if he saw a folder called klews.

Oh my, you scared me, Arthur jumped. Can't say that I have. But I suffer from CRS. The man swept around dust bunnies and crumpled paper, making sure that the broom's bristles touched nothing but clean floor.

What's seearess?

Can't remember.

You can't remember what it means or it means you can't remember?

I can't remember. I'm gonna go get the mop. He rested the broom against Don's shoulder.

Don got up and leaned it against the several overflowing garbage cans in the corner. That's where he found his folder. Stupid Arthur, he muttered and examined the call log.

Powell's call came in at 10:57 PM. To the side Peggy added the location. Don recognized it as Powell's address.

Peggy wheeled herself in.

Hey, let me ask you something.

Shoot.

Something about this Powell guy doesn't add up. He walked his dog behind the dumpster. Why? His house is like 30 minutes' walk away from there. Why go there? Don checked his notes. Says he called right away, but he called from his house. With his cell phone. Why not call from the scene?

Peggy shrugged.

He's hiding something.

If he walked home before making the call, his presence at the scene puts him in the window of the time of death.

Don tapped his nose. You're right. Think he did it?

You have anything for motive?

Not yet. Didn't get to that chapter, Don waved at the papers on the desk. You have the ballistics?

Yeah. Two 22LR bullets. Very common. From the report the new coroner sent over, looks like the killer used a rifle. Something strange about the bullets though.

Oh yeah?

A sort of film on them. Organic material. If I had to guess I'd say it was peanut butter and jelly.

The killer had a snack when he loaded the gun?

That's my theory, Peggy said. So how is the new coroner?

Haven't met him yet. Libby got the report. She may have more to say after her nap. But he came from the big city with the highest recommendations. Marcy was against it, says he's sloppy and plays with dead bodies, but you know her.

Peggy chuckled. She answered her phone. Interesting. Okay. I'll be right there. She dropped the phone into her lap and said to Don, Duncan found a video surveillance system at the diner. We missed it last night because it was dark. I'll let you know what we find. She rolled out of the room.

Don reclined back in his chair. A few hours later his cell phone startled him awake. Mettler-Klump.

Hey Mettler, Libertad's brother Tom said. I wake you?

No. Just working really hard, piecing together the evidence.

I think I found a couple witnesses. Two teens said they saw something last night.

Did you question them?

Not really.

What does that mean? Don braced himself.

I'm taking them to the station for questioning.

Are they handcuffed in the back of your car?

Yep.

But we discussed this. You only arrest people when they commit a crime in front of you or when you have a warrant.

Sorry. I forgot. He breathed hard into the phone. You want me to let them go?

Don sighed. Might as well bring them in.

Now that the diner was closed Libertad went home to make lunch. Don stayed to question the teens Tom arrested.

These are the kids right here, Tom pushed them into the interrogation room. Get in there, get in there, he gave them his psycho look. Sweat dripped from under his hunter's cap. His massive gut expanded and contracted with heavy breathing.

Cut down on the pizza. It's going to kill you, Don said.

I'm trying. Gotta hit the gym, Tom pawed his big belly. What's for lunch?

She mentioned something about Ethiopian food, Don said. Libertad loved experimenting with new cuisines.

Oh well. Pizza it is.

You're putting that guy's kids through college.

Tom chuckled and slapped his belly again.

Don examined the kids. Seventeen years old, boyfriend and girlfriend. High, the both of them. He read something about unreliable witnesses, but at the moment it escaped him. As they didn't complain, he didn't apologize. So you guys saw something last night?

Yeah.

What did you see?

We was in the parking lot, just sitting in my dad's car, you know? The blond boy said, his hand around the girl's shoulder. Both chewed gum and had the vacant look teenagers get when they talk to adults.

Don asked them to elaborate.

There was this guy with a dog by the dumpster. He left kinda in a hurry, you know?

Did he hold anything besides the leash?

Yeah. He was carrying something in his hand.

Any idea what it was?

No.

A gun perhaps?

Could've been, the girl said. It was long and dark.

Like my— the guy's girlfriend elbowed him in the ribs.

What time was this?

I don't know, the guy said.

Around 10:30. 'Cause I had to be home soon and my parents called.

What can you tell me about the guy?

It was dark.

Was he short, tall, fat?

Skinny, the guy said.

And tall, the girl added. And he had long hair.

Oh yeah, and he had like a trench coat or something on. It was open and his junk hung out.

You hear anything?

Yeah. Firecrackers, maybe. I know a couple of kids who set them off around there sometimes.

How many firecrackers?

I dunno. Maybe two or three?

You heard it around the time you saw the guy?

Yeah, I guess.

Don thanked the two for their cooperation and set them loose. Good job, Tom. Just remember not to arrest witnesses in the future.

Yeah, no problem, Tom looked up from his cellphone porn.

Libertad brought lunch. The food's odor filled the room. Don and several officers checked their armpits to make sure they remembered to wear deodorant.

You forgot the forks? Don probed Libby's bag.

You're supposed to eat with your hands, silly. It goes with injera bread. But I didn't have time so I brought regular bread.

Your mom didn't make it, did she? Don recalled his last bout of food poisoning.

No. Remember that bread machine I got myself for Christmas?

A faint bell rang in Don's head.

I used it to make fresh bread. Now dig in and tell me you like it.

Don did as instructed. It didn't taste like armpits. Despite his initial skepticism Don enjoyed it. He was sorry there wasn't more. Tom sat across from them, devouring a pizza pie. The rest of the crew assembled, and Lucus found the bottle opener for their beer. On his third bottle, Don filled them in on what he had so far. We're looking for a tall man with long hair and a dog. His balls might hang out. That's got to be our killer. Anyone have any idea who it might be?

Libertad pursed her lips. Sounds like Bob P.

Who?

Um, um, um. This guy. He walks his dog and leaves dog doo. Some of the shop owners complained. Also, I think Arthur goes to church with him.

Don stroked an imaginary beard. Tom, find out where this guy lives. Lucus, you find anything interesting in the dead guy's apartment?

Tom balanced his empty pizza box on the mountain of trash before leaving to find his uncle.

Nothing out of the ordinary, Lucus replied. Mr. McCaliker had a girlfriend. She lives there too. She wanted to know if she should identify the body.

That's a good idea, Don said. He opened his fourth beer. In here it says family members and friends are often the murderers. Lucus, find out about McCaliker's family. Does he have any brothers or sisters? Maybe this Bob P. is his brother. Also check into the girlfriend. Find out where she was last night and if she might have any reason to kill her boyfriend.

Will do. Thanks for the food, Libby. Lucus trotted out.

An hour later Peggy came with the hard drive containing the diner surveillance footage.

What are we looking at? Don asked Peggy and Libertad.

The ground, next to where we found the body, Peggy explained. It's either shoddy work or whoever set it up had a reason to put it at such a strange angle.

Don nodded to mask his lack of understanding.

There! Stop! Go back! Libertad cried.

What is it? Peggy complied.

Oh, I don't know. When they do that on TV they find evidence, Libertad explained.

Peggy resumed the footage. She showed them the relevant parts. At 9:57 a dog takes a dump, Peggy tapped her long red fingernail on the screen. See how it's yanked away by its leash? Someone scared them off. There, you see the feet. He's chasing the dog and its owner. Steps in the crap. That's the deceased, by the way. Boots match, and there's dog crap on them. He goes back a minute later. She fast forwarded. There, that's him going back into the diner. Peggy forwarded the footage once more. Now at 10:23 he comes out again. That's his feet. He goes out of view. Whoever he's talking to never goes in the frame. She hit the forward button. At 10:25 there's two flashes. See it? That's McCaliker getting shot. Then, she forwarded a couple of minutes, the dog is back. See it? It's grainy, I know, but that's its tail, et cetera.

Don nursed his fifth beer. He suppressed a belch. Working theory, he said. A Bob P. has his dog take a crap near the diner dumpster. McCaliker catches him in the act. Confronts him. Maybe some words are exchanged, and so on. Bob P. gets mad. He comes back half an hour later and kills McCaliker.

Peggy and Libby agreed with Don's assessment.

What I don't get, Don continued, is why the guy who called it in, a, he flipped through his notes, Robert Powell—why didn't he see the perp? He just found the body he said.

Libertad furrowed her brow, harnessing all of her mental resources.

Bob P. and Robert Powell are the same guy, Peggy suggested.

Um, um, um, um, um, so, so, so, so, what was I going to say? Libby said as she often did when her mouth got ahead of her brain. She could be right, Libby got it out eventually.

Get in there Tom interrupted Don's concentration. The deputy pushed a handcuffed man into the interrogation room.

Who's that? Libertad asked.

Duey McCaliker, Tom said. Lucus switched jobs with me. Had me bring in Duey, the dead guy's brother.

Don wobbled to his feet. What did I tell you about arresting people? The room spun around him. Did he break the law?

I don't think so.

Then why is he in cuffs?

Um.

Don smacked his brother in law's head. The hulking man whimpered away. Libertad went after him to make sure he was alright.

Terribly sorry, Don slurred at Duey. But thanks for coming in to make a statement.

No problem, Duey said. He rubbed his tattooed wrists. Me and Tom go way back. We were in the same class all through school.

I'm sorry about what happened to your brother. I hope you don't mind answering some questions to help us catch the killer.

Anything I can do to help. You mind if I eat in here? Haven't had my lunch yet.

Yeah, sure. Go ahead. You want a beer with that?

No thanks. I'm straightedge.

Don eyed him with suspicion. What's that?

I don't drink or do drugs, Duey unwrapped a funky smelling candy bar.

You don't drink?

Yes sir.

Don reminded himself not to have his opinion of Duey's lifestyle choices cloud his judgment. Libby was always into trying new food. What's that you're eating?

Fermented tofu jerky. It's vegan and gluten free.

A tofu eating, tattooed man who didn't drink. Don immediately suspected Duey as the killer. Just as a formality, can you tell me where you were last night between 10 and 11?

Duey thought about it. I was at home watching TV.

Was there anyone with you?

No, I was by myself.

That sounded like a shoddy alibi. Don's heart raced. What did you watch?

Deadliest catch.

Can you tell me what it was about?

Duey could and did.

Don's suspicion eased. Do you know if your brother had any enemies?

Yeah. There was this guy, Robert Powell. His dog kept crapping in the back of the restaurant. My brother's been chasing him away almost every night. He said he called you guys, but...

Oh yeah?

That's right. Powell even threatened him the other day. Do you think it's him?

Sorry, I can't comment on that. But you've been very helpful.

No problem. Can I get a ride back? Tom sort of kidnapped me from my house.

Don called Tom in. Drive him home.

Get over here, Tom took his handcuffs out.

What did I tell you?

Sorry, Mettler. I forgot.

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I warna see my lawyer, Powell insisted.

Like I said before, he's on his way. Don rubbed his temples. Whoever said coffee was a hangover remedy was an idiot. We know that you killed Joe McCaliker. Your dog's on tape. Witnesses place you at the scene, carrying a gun. We have a witness whose name we won't disclose at this time. He says you threatened to kill his brother Joe McCaliker. You don't have an alibi. Make it easier for everyone. Confess.

I didn't do it. Where's my garddamn lawyer?

You will cease and desist badgering my client, Norman Mettler shoved past the door with his briefcase. Now get out of here and let me confer with my client.

Don stumbled out of the room. He dozed on an uncomfortable chair across from the interrogation room.

Wake up. Come on, wake up.

Someone kicked Don's sneakers. His eyelids didn't want to