Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 128, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 781 & 782, September/October 2006

Trey and his cronies went fishing

On ice that was thickened by cold;

An auger, a saw, and some liquor

All help as this story unfolds.

All four of the gents had the passion—

They entered the contest that morn

Convinced they would win the top dollar—

Proceeding to toot their own horn.

Now, Trey, he excelled in maneuvers,

Could jiggle his line with finesse,

And never stopped boasting the trophies

Or mountings he came to possess.

The other three winced at his bragging

And warned him to keep a tight lip,

So Trey went ahead with his fishing

And opened the jug for a nip.

By noon, the poor man was plain tipsy,

Let’s say he was feeling sublime,

When suddenly jerks from down under

Had tightened the slack on his line.

A walleye the size of a Buick

Proceeded to burst through the ice;

The others were seething with envy,

Aware that this catch had a price.

As Trey was no longer coherent

(The brandy had taken its toll),

The friends could dispose of the braggart

Along with his tackle and pole.

The plot for the murder came easy—

A chunk of thick ice to the head—

For the evidence soon would be melted

And their rival most frozen and dead.

They chopped out a hunk and then bopped him,

Then measured his shoulders across,

Sawed into the lake with a fury,

And gave the dead body a toss.

They divvied the winnings between them,

No guilt did the blood money bring,

But each hooked a snag when Trey’s body

Resurfaced the very next spring!