Who Killed Old man Shalom? (17 Nov)

In the hunting lodge of Lucerne,

Bordering the snow-capped trees,

Was found a body stabbed and mutilated,

Covered with hungry fleas

The cabin belonged to Shalom,

Yes, that was his name,

He was neither a Jew nor a banker,

Regardless he was slain

A couple of years, if only

Had the killer waited,

Shalom would have kicked the bucket,

Instead now an investigation would be slated

Shalom was cantankerous,

And his old age had not helped,

There might have been plenty,

Who would have wanted him scalped

Still the police began earnestly,

To find the killer of the departed,

They went along their merry way,

To cross all their boxes as they usually started

Shalom was rich, yeah,

He was wealthy,

Having sired no offspring of his own though,

There wasn’t any that could benefit

There was a single visitor who had visited his cabin,

She was, Oh, how do I put it, not exactly sanguine

He was my client, she said,

A regular one at that,

It’s a loss to me if anything,

Him dying like that

His butler was questioned next,

Who was surprisingly on leave,

My master needed to be alone, he said,

So I had gone sightseeing

The neighbours were questioned then,

And then his old friends,

No one could estimate,

As to who would murder the old man

Money wasn’t the motive,

At least that thought had some clarity,

Everyone knew the old man had vowed,

His wealth to charity

With no leads,

And no evidence,

The case was closed,

It’s file stored in decadence

A few months later,

In a cafe in Paris,

The butler of Shalom,

Met a beautiful mistress

They clinked their glasses,

With verve and delight,

Silent they kept on the reasons of their happiness,

Basis the promises made, at the onset