Few know that Carl Zyban, inventor of the Zyban prescription pill that helps people quit smoking, had a younger brother, Edgar Zyban, who used his deductive powers and ability to kick the habit to solve crimes as the foremost police detective in London.
Now you, too, can match wits with Inspector Zyban, the Non-Smoking Detective, in the strange story of….
Zyban and the Case of the Pompous Ashes
"Clearly a case of suicide," harrumphed Lord Fartwhistle, shaking his jowls as he stood over the remains of the victim in the library. He tsk-tsked and chomped down on his pipe. "My poor brother – driven mad by clues of Final Jeopardy. It’s the only explanation."
"It would be suicide," mused Inspector Zyban, nodding, "except that your brother has been reduced to a fine ash, and killing himself doesn’t explain how he neatly disposed of his remains in this expensive urn. No, this was murder! Plain and simple! And all of you appear to be heavy smokers who could have set him on fire. Everyone knows the Fartwhistles are highly flammable."
There were gasps around the room, but Zyban held his ground. Baroness Prude and Lady Penelope Skank relit their cigarette holders, while Chumly Inbred, the mysterious son born out of wedlock to a certain anonymous Fartwhistle, chewed on his cigar with a loopy grin at nothing.
"I believe the murderer wanted to divert suspicion," announced the inspector. "He hoped to make us believe the killer is a smoker, when in fact, he’s been using Zyban to reduce his cravings for nicotine and ease the withdrawal symptoms. With a prescription of Zyban, he could stop smoking the second week of his treatment and claim later he didn’t smoke at all. Then he could ignite the victim without suspicion, using a barbecue lighter."
"That’s a preposterous theory, Zyban!" scoffed Lord Fartwhistle.
"It’s more than preposterous, it’s true," replied the inspector. "Because you’re the murderer."
How did Inspector Zyban know?
Solution: Inspector Zyban closely observed that while Lord Fartwhistle apparently smoked a pipe, he was, in fact, blowing bubbles out of it. And he had excessive stains of barbecue sauce on his jacket, more than usual for an English lord.
Zyban and A Dark, Seedy Room Filled with Danger (But No Smoke)
Harry the snitch sat tied up in the interrogation room while Inspector Edgar Zyban and Chief Detective Porpoise Mayhew questioned him.
"You gave our secrets to the enemy, you traitor!" snapped the inspector. "Tell us where the rendezvous point is. How can we spot European villains in cafes if they’re all breathing easier and learning to control their nicotine cravings with Zyban?"
His partner, Mayhew, slapped Harry across both cheeks. "Damn it, man! If the French stop smoking, the only clue we’ll have to their identity is their lack of regular bathing!"
Harry slumped in the chair. "Okay, I’ll… I’ll tell you what I told them. They know that Zyban alters the level of certain chemicals in the brain to reduce withdrawal symptoms – restlessness, anxiety, cravings, irritability, hunger and lack of concentration. But it can’t help those who like Celine Dion music. No one can stop that!"
"Where’s the rendezvous point?" demanded the inspector. "Where are they picking up the latest shipment of Zyban prescriptions?"
"I’ll never tell you!" shouted Harry, wrestling against his bonds in the chair. "Never! Never! Never!" He seemed to reconsider for a moment. Then added: "Never!"
"I think you already did," murmured Inspector Zyban. "Quickly, Mayhew! To the red light district!"
What amazing clue tipped off Inspector Zyban?
Solution: Neither Inspector Zyban nor Chief Detective Mayhew tied Harry up – he did that himself. This alerted Zyban to Harry’s other cravings and habits besides nicotine, which he obviously picked up from sophisticated, open-minded Europeans like the French. But the Inspector and Mayhew weren’t comfortable talking about all that.
Zyban and A Lady Under a Cloud of Suspicion
Emma Sweetcurve offered a dazzling smile as she glided gracefully into the foyer (she was known for her talent at roller blading). "Inspector Zyban, I want to thank you so much for retrieving these scandalous pictures of me with England’s rugby team before they leaked to the press. But I still don’t understand why you had to hold on to them for so long."
Zyban cleared his throat nervously before explaining, "Evidence always has to be carefully examined first, Miss Sweetcurve."
She sighed wearily. "I guess I should call the insurance company about the diamonds I had to pay the blackmailers."
"The only person you need to call is a good lawyer," replied Zyban. "Since your diamonds are still safely hidden in the collar of your prize terrier."
"Shi Tzu!" snapped Emma Sweetcurve.
"There’s no point cursing – you’ve been found out."
"What gave me away?"
"You told me you quit smoking the very week you called the police over the threat of blackmail," explained the inspector. "But you were showing unusual amounts of anxiety, even more than normal for an extortion victim or someone trying to kick the habit. I poked around in your unmentionables upstairs and found a prescription for Zyban."
Emma Sweetcurve glowered at him. "You invaded my privacy?"
"Hey, what’s the fun of having a badge if you can’t do that?" answered the inspector. "In any case, I knew you shouldn’t have been that anxious – Zyban’s too effective for that. And especially when I saw you invite the entire English cricket team home after I took your statement. You weren’t remorseful at all over your daring behavior! It was only later that I recalled one of the cricket players said ‘That bitch really sparkles’ – I had misinterpreted the comment at the time. Plus you made another tragic mistake."
What was the fatal mistake that Inspector Zyban discovered?
Three days before her false claim of blackmail, Emma Sweetcurve picked up her first prescription of Zyban to help her quit smoking and told the London YMCA basketball team over lunch: "You know if I could figure out a cool way to commit insurance fraud, I’d be rich."
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