The Hunt

Because Webster Jones had been overworked at the police department early into the year, Inspector Benjamin Rehuitz had given him the week off, so Webster took his brother Ace, and sister Juniper just south of the big city of New York, but still inside the city limits, to go hunting. The first day between all three of them not a single animal could be brought back. The second day Juniper decided to stay back at the small hunting cabin to write her book.
At high noon the boys found a buck grazing forty yards away from them. Both tried for the animal, but with one quick turn of his wrist Webster's arrow went soaring and firmly planted itself in the buck's rib. The buck hobbled off drunkenly, and the two waited the designated time of half an hour before retrieval before they went to go get it.
As they were looking through the high grass a body became visible. The limp dead body seemed to have been bleeding like a sieve. His face was completely etched with horror, and his boots covered in mud.
"Ace, are you sure it was a deer we saw grazing over here?" Webster called.
"I don't know; it had these branch looking things coming out of its head," Ace laughed. "Here it is too. He's a big four legged animal with hooves and branch looking things in his head with your arrow sticking out of his side."
"I found a body too, and it's human."
"You have the walkie-talkie, Webster. Tell June, she'll help."
Webster took out the walkie-talkie. "Juniper, come in Juniper. Over."
"Juniper in. Over."
"First we got a fairly large buck. Over."
"Well done boys. Over."
"But you should come here you won't believe the last thing. We found the dead body of a human, and he hasn't been dead long. Over."
"I'm on my way. Over." Juniper meant it the brothers didn't have time to move the dear farther than an open patch when a girl with chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes came upon them in a blue mountain bike.
“You didn't touch anything on him did you?” She asked.
“No, we've only looked at him,” Webster replied.
“I've called the police department someone should be coming here shortly. Let’s take the buck and go back.”
“Aren't you interested in this June?” Ace asked.
“Yes, but this is Webster’s break. I wouldn't want to cut that short,” was her reply.
“I just want to stick around until we find out if it’s murder." Webster stood by the body watching the highway.
When the police did come they cleaned everything up as quickly as they could. They concluded that he was shot from less than fifteen feet away.
"What does that mean?" Ace asked Webster.
"Murder." Webster never looked at his brother but simply waved at the inspector as he left.
"Who was he?" Juniper asked. The team was told later that day that this man's name is Jeffery Simmons. He is from Kansas and came to New York four days ago with his brother Henry by train. The two Mr. Simmons are staying in a tent down the road from where the body was found.
The Jones went by to meet Mr. Henry Simmons the next day. When they got there a tall man with messy dark hair and weighed about two hundred pounds was taming a crackling fire in front of a bright orange tent.
“Hello,” he said without glancing at the trio approaching him. “You’re here about my brother too? I’ll tell you the same thing I told the police earlier.” Webster, Ace, and Juniper were gathered around the glowing fire too. “I loved my brother. I mean sure, we were brothers in the worst sense of the word; we fought every other day, and we both have a bruise or a scar from some expedition the other dragged us into. We are family though, and no matter how we looked at it we were stuck with each other, and we just decided to be stuck like glue. That’s why we came on this three week hunting trip.”
“ But you’re free of each other now that he’s dead,” Ace said with a gleam in his eye.
“Alright, I haven’t got a hunting rifle. You see my brother is the one that takes any joy in killing animals. Come in and see for yourselves.” Henry Simmons took the Jones into the tent.
There were two sleeping bags in the center of the tent. A twenty gallon, a first aid kit, and some tools for cleaning a deer in the right corner farthest from the entrance. In the remaining corners were either lanterns or nothing at all.
“He’s right, there isn’t any gun. But did you see anyone at noon yesterday Mr. Simmons?” Juniper asked.
“You’re asking if I have an alibi. Yes, but it’s a little shaky. You see I was reading my book, but I had just started it that morning because I had finished the last book I was reading the day before.”
“It tells us what you were doing, but without someone around we have no way to confirm that,” Webster said.
The trio went to the train station to ask how long it would take to travel from Kansas to New York, and if there had been any rifles that had been checked through in the past couple of days. They walked in to the train station to a large red locomotive with huge brass wheels, the smell of coal smoke, and just one man coming up to the train as others got off.
After consulting the railway guide and a kind attendant they learned that it takes a total of thirty six hours to travel by train from Kansas to New York, and nobody in the past couple days had a rifle when they boarded any train from anywhere and arriving in New York. Soon they decided to use the pay phone at the station to call the inspector about what they had discovered that day.
“Hello Inspector Rehuitz? This is Webster Jones.” Webster spoke.
“This is he. Are you still pursuing the Simmons case?”
“Yes sir and Henry Simmons had quite a bit to say,” Webster said at which the man who had been walking up to the train began walking over to the huddle.
Webster finished telling Inspector Rehuitz about the encounter with Mr. Simmons and ended the conversation. Juniper then looked over and said hello to the man that had walked up. He was probably about average height with gray hair and a fairly wrinkled face.
“Hello, I am Henry and Jeffery Simmons father, Edward. What’s wrong?”
“It’s a long story, but we were under the impression you were in Kansas,” Webster said trying to get as much fresh information out of him without him trying to protect himself in any way.
“I’m supposed to be I just got here this morning to make sure that the two boys hadn’t killed each other, but I guess I just lost the nerve to go see them, so I’m going back to Kansas.” When he picked up his bag again a hunting rifle fell out of it.
“Sir, if you came here just to check up on your sons, why do you have a rifle?”
“Honestly miss I didn’t know I did have it.”
Ace picked up the gun. “Your son Jeffery was shot yesterday with a hunting rifle just like this.” Mr. Edward Simmons showed him the train ticket stump for the train he had just gotten off. He was on a train at the exact time Henry was shot. “Well don’t leave town,” Ace finished.
Webster drove back to their campsite while Ace drank nearly an entire water bottle, and Juniper jotted down some notes about the case. When she glanced up she demanded that they stop at the nearest gas station to call the inspector.


Challenge to the reader: You now have in your possession all the clues pertinent to the correct solution. Was it Henry the fighting brother, or was it Edward the accusing father. Maybe Webster or Ace did shoot him while Webster aimed at the deer. Or was it someone else?


Juniper successfully got Edward Simmons, Henry Simmons, Inspector Rehuitz, Hutchings, Ace, and Webster all at the spot where Webster fired his shot.
“This is the nearest opening to where a murder was committed. I say that because I know two men who stood right here, and they didn’t kill him because they had no motive. Jeffery Simmons is from Kansas, and Ace and Webster Jones were born and raised here. In addition to this both Ace and Webster hunt archery, and Mr. Simmons was killed with a hunting rifle. The hunting rifle I speak of was found falling out of the unzipped suitcase of Mr. Edward Simmons, the father of Henry and Jeffery Simmons, but I think we can all agree that nobody boards a train with an unzipped suitcase which means someone must have planted the gun.
“The brothers, Henry and Jeffery, came four days ago by train. Trains check bags for a gun, so the rifle couldn’t have originated with either party. This only leaves the fact that it must have been bought here which means that if we asked about this rifle being purchased we could track it back without leaving the state.
“There is another way that we can figure out. An average adult man needs about 100 ounces of water a day. In the tent of the Simmons brothers there is a single twenty gallon container for water. Twenty gallons is only enough for one man for three weeks, not two. Mr. Henry Simmons did you bring your brother here so that you could kill him with his own gun that you knew he’d have to buy here? Before you answer, remember that gun can be traced.”
“Yes, I came along with him because I finally saw my chance to have him killed. He always got everything; he was more athletic, stronger, and more attractive than me, and I hated him for that. I finally wanted to be better than him. The way I see it being alive is better than being dead. I was smarter so I got to do the packing. I knew by a week in it would just be me so that’s all the water I packed. I’m sorry dad. I know how much you wanted us to get along, and I must have really let you down.”
“Cuff him Hutchings,” The inspector said gravely. Then he turned to the Jones. “I’ll let you have your vacation now.”
The Jones had a vacation at last thankful they’d never have to worry about one of their siblings killing them.