You’re looking for a plural nine-letter word.
Of course, I knew you collected fishing lures. I read that online somewhere. That’s pretty stupid. But who am I to judge? The things I enjoy collecting tend to rot.
Do I get to ask you trite questions now?
Let’s see, what can I ask the semi-famous J.A. Konrath?
I know.
Why did you become a writer?
Is it hard to plot a novel?
Where do you get your ideas?
I bet no one ever asked you those before.
Expectantly,
Unknown Sendder
From: Joe Konrath
To: Unknown Sender
US—
That puzzle was a good one. Wise choice leaving in the capital letters, because I never would have solved it otherwise.
I became a writer because I love being in my own head and creating things that didn’t exist before. It’s challenging, rewarding, and entertains me.
The first few novels were tough, but now I tend to think in long form. The hard part is the research. I often miss half a day of writing because I spend too much time learning new stuff. The world is a fascinating place.
As for where I get my ideas, you nailed it in an earlier email. I steal them from James Patterson and Stephen King.
My turn.
Do you like sports?
What’s the last thing you Googled?
Name one thing in your freezer right now.
Beer or wine?
I do not like sports. Watching or playing.
I just Googled TOGO to figure out your last puzzle.
There are always ice tips in the freezer. For use with a hookah.
Beer. But I won’t turn down wine.
Joe
From: Unknown Sender
To: JA Konrath
Subject: When I’ll Do It–54
Joe—
Your questions are starting to bore me.
You’re starting to bore me.
Sports: I like hunting. Well, not so much the hunting part, as the killing part.
Google: “Fournier”. I Google it whenever I’m feeling down. You should too.
Freezer: Still have my testicles in the icebox, ever since Daddy cut them off. Do you think they can be thawed and reattached after twenty years?
Alcohol: Doesn’t play well with my medication. Which I’m running low on. I hope I don’t have one of my episodes…
Enough with this jackassery. Because of your lame attempts at prying information out of me (or if that isn’t what you’re doing, your even lamer attempts to try to befriend me), I’m making this puzzle needlessly complicated.
PUZZLE #54
Part 1
Answer these two different puzzles:
Add two letters to me, and I am shorter.
Forward I am heavy, but backward I am not.
Your answer is what these two words weigh in pounds when combined. Use a four-digit number.
Part 2
I occur twice in a millennium, but not a single time in a century. Also, I don’t occur in every year, only in a leap year.
I’m thinking of a word between aardvark and zebra.
Curiosity is one. So is Yutu.
Put all three of these answers together and then drive me off-road. That two-word vehicle is your answer.
Now take the four-digit numerical answer from Part 1, and the two-word answer from Part 2, and type them into the text box.
Was that convoluted enough? Do you want to ask me what my favorite color is, or what I think about the Green Party, or if I prefer llamas to alpacas?
Or maybe you need a hint?
SPOILER ALERT!
The final answer is going to be a year and a vehicle brand, like 1980 Rolls Royce. Pay close attention to what these questions are asking.
We’re inching closer to the finish line, Joe.
Pretty soon you will either stop a murder, or witness a murder on a live feed video.
I’m excited. Are you?
Yours,
Oknown Sender
From: Joe Konrath
To: Unknown Sender
US—
I’m getting the feels that you’re not interested in sharing.
I hear you.
Why do you think you shun personal questions?
Curious,
Joe
From: Unknown Sender
To: JA Konrath
Subject: When I’ll Do It–55
Jackass—
Asking why I shun personal questions is a personal question.
You’re so transparent. You’d make a shitty psychologist.
How about you stop trying to figure me out, and instead work on figuring out the puzzles?
Here’s a really fun one.
PUZZLE #55
An esteemed maestro had a younger brother who had no musical ability at all. Nonetheless, the younger brother challenged his famous sibling to a contest. They would each conduct a symphony. But to prove who was, indeed, the best, they would do it during a thunderstorm, using lightning rods for batons.
Because this is a dumb puzzle and not based in reality, the maestro agreed. Just as the orchestra finished warming up, the maestro lifted his baton, was struck by lightning, and instantly died. The younger brother, seizing the opportunity, immediately picked up the baton and finished conducting the symphony. Even though he was struck by lightning eight times, and wearing the exact same clothing as the maestro, the younger brother did not die.
Why not?
If this one puzzle was the only contact we’d ever had, Joe, I can safely say that you’d forever be in my debt.
You’re welcome.
You don’t need any clues, do you?
SPOILER ALERT!
This one is easy, if you know current events. The younger brother survived because he was a _____ _________.
Bravo,
Untnown Sender
From: Joe Konrath
To: Unknown Sender
US—
That actually was my favorite puzzle of the fifty-five you’ve sent to me.
So this is what you want? For me to be an obedient robot who just answers puzzles and praises you?
Most people would prefer to be challenged a bit. But every time I do, you get defensive.
If just one tenth of the things you’ve told me about your life are true, you’ve really had it bad. And I’m sorry about that.
So your way of dealing with abuse is to abuse others?
Surely you see what a vicious, unproductive cycle that is.
Joe
I must have hit a chord with my last email, because five minutes after I sent it, Unknown Sender hit me up with more texts. Here’s what he wrote.
Take your bullshit psychoanalysis and stuff it. Do it again and I’ll set your house on fire while you sleep. Lotta good your camera and dogs will do when they’re 1100 degrees.
PUZZLE #56
Twenty-four is ten, ten is three, three is five, five is four.
So what is four?
SPOILER ALERT!
This isn’t about math.
Unknown Ssender
From: Joe Konrath
To: Unknown Sender
US—
I couldn’t solve that one. Like you, I hate texting. My eyes are getting so bad that even glasses don’t help.
I’d prefer it if you kept our correspondence on the computer, where I have a forty-inch computer screen and can adjust the font to be read from space.
You don’t want me to ask personal questions. Fine. Honor my request, and stop texting me.
Joe
From: Unknown Sender
To: JA Konrath
Subject: When I’ll Do It–57
Giuseppe—
Sorry for the delay. I know this puzzle came later than you were probably expecting. I had a little accident with a hammer. I was nailing something, and it moved unexpectedly.
It happens when things aren’t properly
tied down.
Unfortunately, I smashed a fingernail.
Don’t you hate when that happens?
Typing is taking a little longer than I’d like.
But pain is a state of mind, isn’t it?
In semi-related news, I’ve done so many puzzles for you, I’ve begun to think in anagrams. Did you know that “I smashed a fingernail” can be rearranged into “refinished animal gas” and “freshening salami aid”?
Maybe you’re not as pleased by that as I am, so we’ll move on.
Let’s talk about poker. You know all about straights, and flushes, and pairs, and full houses, right? There are good hands, and bad hands. Sometimes, with bad hands, you can bluff and still win. But you always want to try for the best hand possible. That often means taking a risk, in order to get a card you need. If you have four of the same suit, and try for a fifth, but don’t get it, the term is called “a busted flush.”
PUZZLE #57
Look closely at this picture after carefully reading this email. What’s wrong with this hand?
SPOILER ALERT!
The answer is four words.
Good luck, Joe. I know you’re wishing me a speedy recovery.
Your pal,
Unknown Senper
From: Joe Konrath
To: Unknown Sender
US—
I’ve always heard that humor is the best medicine, but I never met anyone who preferred a knock-knock joke over Vicodin.
But let me be serious for a minute.
We’re almost up to puzzle sixty. From what I understand, at sixty you’re going to kill someone, unless I solve all of your riddles.
I know I’ve missed a few. But I’m sure that some of my readers have gotten them all so far.
If someone else solves them all, will you call off your plans?
Couldn’t you just call off your plans indefinitely? We can keep corresponding. I’d like that.
Joe
From: Unknown Sender
To: JA Konrath
Subject: When I’ll Do It–58
Hello Joe—
You’d not only make a shitty psychoanalyst, you’d make a shitty police negotiator.
We can keep corresponding? Right. But that ends once I stop pointing the automatic weapon at the bus full of special needs kids.
You’re in this relationship with me because of coercion. Or extortion, as you put it several emails ago.
Once I drop the gun, you disappear.
And, frankly, I’m okay with that.
I’ll make you a deal, right here and now. However this ends, I won’t bother you anymore.
But while I still have some sway over you, I want you to read this email carefully and fully.
You always do that, don’t you?
I admit, that brings up something I’ve always wanted to ask you.
Surely you know that some of your readers don’t actually read every word of your books. Some skip around. Sentences. Paragraphs. Even whole chapters, to skip to the end.
Would you like to know which parts people skip? How often people skip? What percentage of your carefully crafted prose is actually read?
That wasn’t my question. Here’s what I really want to know.
How does it make you feel to learn that many of your readers skip around?
Some even skip whole books, I bet.
Or they quit reading you entirely.
You have no way of knowing if a fan stops reading you. Maybe, if you’re lucky, they’ll tell you why in a review or comment. But I’d bet that most of them disappear without a word.
Aren’t you bothered by that?
Maybe, if you were a better wordsmith, readers wouldn’t skip so much.
I know when I read, I skip to get to the good parts. The long, clunky paragraphs don’t get read. I look for dialog. Violence. Action. Jokes. Suspense.
Do you ever skim through my emails, Joe?
I’m curious what it is you skip. Do you skip what I’m saying to focus on the puzzles? Or do you skip the puzzles and focus on what I’m saying?
I know you’re bundling our emails and selling them as ebooks. I’ve made a sort of peace with that. I really would like to know how many of your readers are hanging on the quirkiness of my unique thoughts, and how many are doing it as mind calisthenics.
If only there was a way to know. Right?
I don’t know about you, Joe, but I know what I want.
I want readers to like the prose AND the puzzles. To gobble it all up.
I don’t want to be skipped.
I spent an entire childhood being skipped.
Read carefully. Read everything carefully. Every. Single. Thing.
PUZZLE #58
I’m thinking of a word,
That contains a double u,
Not the letter w,
But a u and then a u,
It’s a seven-letter word,
And it’s one I know you’ve heard,
For this word to persist,
In itself it can’t exist.
I’m no longer seeking your praise for my poems.
I no longer seek anything from you. You’ve met all of my expectations in our interactions, which is to say I had no expectations, and you didn’t surprise me.
I learned, long ago, that hope was a horrible thing. Having wishes and dreams and expectations only leads to crushing disappointment.
I curtailed my hope in my interactions with you.
Well, that’s not entirely true.
My first interaction with you, I did have some hope.
But you killed that pretty damn quick.
So now, here we are, nearing the end of our time together, and you think you’re going to be happy that it’s over.
But not nearly as happy as I’ll be.
Stuck on the puzzle?
SPOILER ALERT!
The word really sucks.
The world is full of people. And all of them suck. People suck, nature sucks, everything sucks.
I’m not adding any misery to the world. The world IS misery.
Nothing lives without something else dying. Weather it’s cows eating grass, or black holes eating stars. Matter transfers, but there is no reason for it. Hope and love are human constructs.
A star goes supernova and kills 10 trillion lifeforms on an orbiting planet.
The universe doesn’t care.
Why should I?
Now let’s see if you actually did pay attention. I want you to disregard this puzzle, and its answer. Instead, type in the first word of this sentence.
Good luck,
Unknawn Sender
From: Joe Konrath
To: Unknown Sender
US—
Seriously. This doesn’t have to end in tragedy.
Happy endings do happen.
Please. Do the right thing.
Joe
From: Unknown Sender
To: JA Konrath
Subject: When I’ll Do It–59
Mr. Konrath—
You got this all wrong. This IS a happy ending.
The right thing IS going to happen. You’ll realize it soon enough.
I can practically hear you think, Joe. It sounds like grinding gears in an old, ungreased machine.
You’re thinking that I’ve lost my marbles.
I haven’t. I assure you.
Here’s proof:
PUZZLE #59
Count all the jars containing marbles.
Assume that each jar contains an average of 155 marbles. How many marbles are there?
Don’t judge me. You collect smelly old fishing lures. I like marbles and board games. Bright things that are meant to bring people joy. Not sharp barbs that animals bite because you fool them while they’re hungry.
Who’s the real sadist here, Joe?
And have you finally figured out that you need to read everything I write?
It’s the least you can do.
SPOILER ALERT!
I’m
not asking you to count all the jars. I’m asking you to count all the jars containing marbles.
Welcome to my hell,
Cnknown Sender
From: Joe Konrath
To: Unknown Sender
Unknown Sender—
You don’t have to do this.
You have a choice.
Please. Stop.
Joe
From: Unknown Sender
To: JA Konrath
Subject: When I’ll Do It–60
Joe—
It’s too late to stop.
The wheels were put in motion years ago.
Stopping this would be like trying to stop the sun from burning.
And now, with feelings of triumph mixed with a bit of sadness, here is the last puzzle I’ll ever send to you.
PUZZLE #60
Try unto you,
Show colossi artful skill,
When taboo heart,
Has kept cuckoo chirp,
From everyone.
How does it feel, Joe? You haven’t solved all the puzzles I’ve sent you, and now someone is about to die.
You failed to Stop A Murder.
Loser.
Maybe one of your readers can succeed where you did not.
What do you think, Dear Reader?
Can you stop me?
Do you need some help?
SPOILER ALERT!
The end is important. But there are many ends.
This has been fun, Joe. Maybe, under different circumstances, we could have been friends.
But it’s too late for that.
All that’s left is destiny.
With excitement and melancholy, I bid you aloha.
Salut.
Ciao.
Ready or not, here I come.
Unknowne Sender
VERY IMPORTANT NOTE FOR THE READER
If you haven’t solved all sixty-three website puzzles (yes, there are sixty-three), and watched all six videos (yes, there are six), you should stop here.
STOP A MURDER - WHEN (Mystery Puzzle Book 5) Page 2