Written in honor of Towel Day, held annually on May 25th in celebration of the life and works of Douglas Adams. I figured Hathaway, a) having gone to Cambridge and b) being so delightfully nerdy, would be a willing participant.
It was a fine May morning, thought Lewis as he walked across the grassy courtyard, too bright and peaceful for a murder. Still, he had been in his line of work long enough to know that death didn't only strike on dark and stormy nights.
His sergeant was waiting a little ways from the body, standing tall and upright, hands clasped behind his back. "Morning sir, victim's name is Patrice Thomas. Her roommate," he gestured slightly to a thin, weeping girl, "Sara Dowell, says the victim went out about ten o'clock last night, she doesn't know where, and never came back. However, Hobson says she's only been dead about three hours."
They turned together and went over to where the doctor was inspecting the late undergraduate, waiting for a more complete report. Lewis caught a glimpse of something white fluttering behind Hathaway's back. "Hold on a moment, what's that?" "What's what sir?" "That thing, behind you." Hathaway turned about, "nothing behind me sir" Lewis sighed, "Oh this? This is a towel."
Lewis looked the sergeant over; he was not even the slightest bit wet. "A towel?"
"As you know, 'A towel is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors…"
"Alright, enough!" interrupted Lewis; Hathaway was starting to use his quoting-things voice and it was making Lewis a little uncomfortable. "I don't care how useful it is for an interstellar hitchhiker, why have you brought it to a murder investigation?" Lewis looked closely at his young partner, trying to be certain he wasn't sick or insane; he worried about him sometimes.
"Well, you see today, May 25th, is Towel Day. It's a holiday in honor of Douglas Adams, the author of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. He," said Hathaway with a hint of a smug smile, "went to Cambridge."
Lewis sighed, he couldn't quite follow what his partner said half the time; still he was a damn good detective.
Ok, there you have it. I'm sorry if the voices aren't quite accurate; I haven't seen the series since it last aired on PBS in the US. I've just had this floating around in my mind for a really long time, and I thought Towel Day was a good day to post it.
Happy Towel Day