We had a real dust-up in my neighborhood today. The usual unreliable handyman tied up wealthy doctor and her personal assistant and was I guess ransacking the place. P.A., who had been hit on the head with a HAMMER, escaped and summoned the constabulary who rescued the lady neurologist from her house, which was now burning. Moriarty escaped on foot down into the Upper Bay, in which he probably swam briskly off to his underground base on Catalina Island or something.
And now, another 35 years of quiet.
Amazing the cops didn't catch the guy, considering the rather upfront nature of the crime. Maybe he'll be the D.B. Cooper of Newport Beach and never be found. I was a bit frightened for my mom since this whole mess occurred less than a mile from her house and really the last thing she needs is a charred, murderous handyman crashing into the parlour pursued by bloodhounds.