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The Science of Deduction
Woke up. Got out of bed. Clock reads 7:00 am. Nice early start.
Watson was up already, not surprising.
Mrs. Hudson gave me a cup of tea, no sugar, again. Told Mrs. Hudson that I wanted sugar in my tea. Told me she wasn't my housemaid. Questioned her on why she made me the tea in the first place if she wasn't my housemaid. No response.
John told me we had a case. Got dressed. Quickly ate down a croissant. Hopped into a taxi.
Met Detective Lestrade outside 32 Collins Street. Small, quaint street. Slightly posh. Not to rich, but not middle class either.
Walked to the front door, John and Lestrade not far behind. Entered the house. Small foyer.
Followed Lestrade down hallway into bedroom.
Man lying face down on the floor, dead, obviously. Bent down next to the body. Blunt force trauma to the head. Wrench, hammer, baseball bat. Most likely the latter of the options.
And this brings us to step one of the Science of Deduction:
#1 Take note of the obvious things.
Baseball bat is the murder weapon.
Victim is thirty to thirty five years old. Brown thinning hair, green eyes, neatly trimmed finger and toe nails.
Smartly dressed. Weighs eighty to ninety kilos, roughly one hundred and seventy centimetres in height.
Room is tidy, no signs of break in or struggle. John bent down next to the body. Couldn't tell me anything knew, obviously.
Bed made, shirts and pants neatly arranged in wardrobe, ladies handbag on dresser.
Asked Lestrade where the second body was. He said there wasn't a second body. Asked him if the victim was a cross dresser. He asked me why I would ask that question. I said why would a man have a woman's handbag in his bedroom. Looked at me bewildered, obviously.
Spilled contents of handbag on the bed.
Perfume, packet of tissues, eyeliner, lipstick. Nothing else.
Asked John and Lestrade what was missing from the handbag. Both couldn't answer, obviously.
I answered for them. Purse, keys and phone. Essential for women to carry around in their handbag. None of these found in handbag.
Had to note for later reference that other human brains can't quite work as fast as my own.
Rubbed my temples for a bit.
Told Anderson to shut up, again. Obviously.
Went out on balcony, looked at the view. Looked downwards. Called Lestrade and Watson to join me on the balcony.
Pointed to the dead woman who was lying on the roof below the balcony.
Told Lestrade to tell his men that they are idiots.
Lightly jumped off the balcony with Lestrade and Watson to inspect the second body.
Female, blonde hair, brown eyes, recently whitened teeth. Breath smells of alcohol.
Weighs fifty to fifty five kilos, is roughly one hundred and seventy five centimetres tall.
Looked back up at balcony, weigh too big a distance to jump on purpose, without help.
Slim figure. Rather beautiful. Dressed casually, contusions to the head. Probably from falling and her head going splat on the roof.
Once again, John could not tell me anything new, obviously.
Left the crime scene knowing where to go next . . . .
Crap! I forgot Watson. Again. Obviously.