I'm Brendan Manelli, a detective with the Laurel Falls PD homicide squad. To make a long story short, I was promoted from uniformed to detective because of a shootout my partner and I got into. My partner got disability, a tax-free check coming in for the rest of his life. I got promoted. The other guy? He got buried.

     Anyhow, as the new guy on the block, so to speak, I got all the crummy jobs. Like a file cabinet full of old, cold, moldy unsolved cases. I also got a partner who is so intent on living to collect a pension that he won't leave headquarters. That's OK, because he's good at research. It's good, too, because if anyone knew how I was clearing these cases, I'd be sharing a padded room with the aluminum foil man.

     It all started when I was ordered to give a talk to a murder of mystery writers who called themselves the Sleuths and Serpents. Don't ask, I don't know what it means. The talk was to be about crime solving methods and procedures used by the homicide squad. Somehow or another, it disintegrated into a challenge whereby the group bet me a steak dinner that they could solve my most unsolvable case in two weeks. I gave them the bare bones of a case that had had the department stumped for 14 years.

     Two weeks later found the group enjoying, and me paying for, 20-ounce rib eye steaks. Normally, dogs aren't allowed in restaurant dining rooms. Tazz, a canine member of the group, gained entrance due to the official K-9 police vest I had acquired for him.

     And, to paraphrase one of my favorite actors, it was the start of a beautiful relationship. I bought dinners and they solved crimes.

     After about six months and a dozen cold cases cleared, they let me in on their secret. Therein lies the rub. If I share the secret with anybody, they'll be coming to take me away, ha-ha, to the funny farm. That's not even the worst part. Now I have a rep for solving the really hard cases. So guess what kinds of cases I get? Right.

     How do they solve the unsolvable? It's simple. They don't. They all have ghostly phantasms who help them solve cases. These entities are the fictional creations of mystery writers whop came before them.

     Take Laconia Griffin, for example. On the outside she doesn't seem to be much more than what meets the eye. A good-looking woman in her 40s, whose taste in clothing tends to the mesoamerican. She covers her trim, athletic body with some kind of a Peruvian cape or poncho. She says it's a jacuna. Then she covers her shoulder-length medium-brown mane with a cowboy hat like Clint Eastwood used to wear in all those spaghetti westerns. The hat hides her striking gray eyes beneath its floppy brim. Now, this woman is an expert in forensic anthropology, ethnopharmacology, and computer science, holding multiple PhDs. Sounds like a reasonably stable person, right? Wrong. She solves cases with the help of the ghost of Sherlock Holmes's nemesis, Moriarty. That's not all. She answers my questions before I ask them.

     Let's take a look at Cassidy Flint. She's a nice blond lady who lives on a farm where she and her new husband, Sam Kingston, take care of her elderly mother. Her grown-up daughter and granddaughter complete the core of her family. She is meticulous and orderly, as rational as the day is long. You'd think. Yet her crime-solving partner is the Greek Goddess of wisdom, Athena.

     Then there's Bill McGill. There's nothing about him that stands out as being unnatural, abnormal, or weird. He's medium tall, with brown hair and given to wearing suit coats, shirts and ties. If I didn't know better, I 'd tend to place him with a church choir. But, I do know better, and so will you when you read his story.

     You may see a quiet lady in her fifties sitting calmly sipping at a tea and nibbling on a roll at most of the meetings. That's Gwyneth Sue Gates. She tends to be in the background taking everything in and seldom speaks until she is 100 percent sure of her facts. That means that, when she does speak, people listen. She is never without her perky-black-and-white dog named Tazz. He even has his own chair from which he oversees the Sleuths and Serpents meetings. Gwyneth doesn't solve cases per se. Tazz does it for her! And he isn't saying who his inspiration is. Imagine me trying to explain that one to the lieutenant.

     Lazlo Flanahan. Ah, Lazlo. I like Lazlo. When I stand by him, it makes me feel thin, hirsute, and in peak physical condition, all in one fell swoop. By comparison, that is. From his idea of what constitutes sartorial splendor, I can see that he has been everywhere, done everything, and gotten the T-shirts to prove it. I often wonder what color the sky is in his universe. His spectral helper? Sam Spade.

     Bob Flanahan. Just goes to show that the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree. An accomplished baker and poet at the young age of 24, he gets help from a figment of Sam Clemens' imagination, Tom Sawyer.

     “Night Train” Dupre is 6 foot 4 inches of one of the scariest guys you could ever meet. This guy is battle-hardened and has the scars, not to mention the medals, to prove it. He never speaks unless he has something to say, but hidden within that linebacker's physique is the most diabolical sense of humor I've ever come across. And this guy is the most normal one of the group. He actually figures out solutions to conundrums using his own mental powers. At least, so far.

     Nick Oakley, who goes by Nicko, is another character. Short and wiry, he came home from Vietnam 35-plus years ago with one less foot than he took with him. The left one, in case you're interested. This skinny little guy doesn't have muscles hanging on his bones. No, he has steel cables. I mean, did you ever see someone strut with a limp? Meet Nicko and you will. He claims that, of all people, Sherlock Holmes helps him solve crimes.

     Colleen McKiernan has the demeanor and looks of what they called in the 1960s a peacenik. She tends to long flowery dresses that complement her long, and I mean long, brown hair which has the occasional streak of gray. She hides her blue eyes behind a pair of owlish glasses and is what today is described as a BBW. In case you don't know, that stands for big beautiful woman. And she is. But don't tell her, she'll think you are a sexist pig for noticing. Her otherworldly accomplice is Harriet Vane, from the Lord Peter Wimsey novels.

     Matt McCauley is from left field. He says that one Monsieur Dupin, the creation of Edgar Allan Poe, comes to him from a fungus and gives him clues. Since Poe is widely credited with creating the mystery story, I guess that makes him a purist.

     Last, and far from least, is Roxie Brown. To just call her a tall, slender, attractive black woman would be to do her an injustice. She has an athletic build that still manages to have dangerous curves all along that 5-foot 8-inch highway. Sometimes she uses her uncommon beauty to overshadow her intense intelligence. I think I've got at least that part figured out. It's when she gives you that wide-eyed, innocent look from those beautiful doe-like liquid brown eyes. She hasn't deigned to tell me who inspires her crime-solving talents.

     There they are, the core of the Sleuths and Serpents Writers' Group. An even dozen (when you count Tazz) of the most paranormally afflicted souls who ever gathered in one space. A murder of mystery writers is as good a collective noun as any to describe this collection of individualists.

     In my first adventures with these guys, I didn't get to bring all of the perpetrators to earthly justice. But in all cases, justice was served to the degree that I felt confident stamping each case folder with a smiley-face stamp that my four-year-old grandson gave me as a Christmas present. That's my own private code for “case closed.”

     The cases cleared by the Sleuths and Serpents ranged from the murder of a teen age girl by a pedophile, revenge for unconscionable treatment, spousal abuse, punishment for perceived wrongs, cover up of robbery, self-defense from a molester, and murder for hire to the everlasting eternal triangle.

     This first group of solutions was written up in the book, The Phantom Detectives. It showcases ten of the more complicated cases that this bunch of weirdly wonderful people have collaborated with me on.

     Since then, these guys have become fast friends of mine. We even go on excursions together. Tazz's K-9 vest gets him into places normally reserved for humans only. We wouldn't think of going anywhere without him.

     But now it seems that trouble follows the group. No matter where they go, crimes are presented for their solution. So they have written up the group's latest escapades in this volume called: Phantom Detectives II, Sleuths and Serpents Take a Holiday.

     If you would like to spend some holidays with this somewhat motley crew while enjoying a baker's dozen of stories, then you will need to but the book, The Phantom Detectives Take a Holiday, ISBN 189315150-6

     The book is available from me for $10.00, plus $2.95 postage and handling. Of course, any copies you order from me will have my stories autographed by me personally. That'll give you a thrill.

     If you're interested, contact me by email and I'll give you further instructions.

          All proceeds from the sale of this book go to benefit the Ligonier Valley Writers.