Realm of the Muse 1.80.3: Burning Leaves
The official story undoubtedly would be that Connor McKee had collapsed from drunkenness into a pile of dry leaves with a lit cigarette. This was quite plausible, as everyone knew Connor McKee was a chain-smoking drunk who tended the grounds of the castle. Of course, Connor McKee hadn’t died at the hands of his vices. He had died at the hands of Simon Skinner and Dr. Robin Hatcher. But nobody would believe any foul play was involved, least of all the incompetent officers of the Sandford Police Service.
Skinner liked to entertain himself by driving past the “crime scene” the next day. He knew the others liked to keep an eye on the investigation themselves, but he doubted any of them got as much of a kick out of it as he did. It was the sheer intoxication of getting away with murder that amused him, on top of the spectacle of a staff far too incompetent and lazy to do their jobs. Had the NWA operated in any other town, Skinner was certain they wouldn’t have gotten away with what they did. Some intrepid officer would find out what they were up to and expose them with the support of a reasonable staff. But here, any officer who dared question Sandford’s most powerful would be deemed crazy, a pest to the staff who would prefer to lounge about and eat ice cream and cake than fight crime.
From his car, Skinner could see Sergeant Fisher hovering over the ashes of the leaves and Mr. McKee. What he was pondering, Skinner couldn't say, but he was certain that Sergeant Fisher wasn't debating whether the frying of Connor McKee was an accident or a murder. Skinner knew Sergeant Fisher would soon shrug his shoulders and say it was an accident. Sufficiently entertained, Skinner drove away, happy that his village was officially protected by incompetents under the lead of one of his accomplices. Were it not for them, he wouldn't have the freedom to unofficially protect Sandford with the NWA. He wouldn't have any freedom at all.