Ambrosia
The blood had coagulated; still some of the precious red continued to trickle down her leg and off onto the floor from her toes. The rope used to bind her hands was still white, as if cleaned thought-out the killers procedure. Detective Conan eyed the exposed female with close detail, he after all, had known the victim many years and was sure of the incidences that occurred.
He looked at her face, stuck in a terroruos yawn, and focused his attention to her eyes, bulging and bloodshot, he sifted her hair, witch was spotted with dried blood. Detective Conan was interrupted by the entering coroners, and shot back his hand back from the victim's hair.
Among the coroners were Detective Spike Spiegel and his partner Vash. Conan gave and eyrie glare to the man as they entered, attempting to regain the authority he lost when to the two entered the room.
"In touch with the victim, as always…" chucked Vash. Spike wailed over to the body and flip out his notebook, he kept a monotone voice as he recited it's contents, "Lain, no last name, Missing as of last night at 11:23p.m.; father said she went to get a midnight snack; didn't return." He paused and gathered the precious information into his head. Vash was directing coroners how to properly turn the body over after getting it down from the ceiling. Spike continued, "Witnesses say she entered this building, the time is unknown. She was seen walking with a man who had a peculiar red coat on" he seemed to linger, praising the facts as he continued further, " Rinse-lather job; the kind were he takes all her blood and washes her body."
Detective Conan was holding his chin and pondering his words. Vash looked up from the stretcher and looked eager to ask his question. "Why did he hang her from the ceiling?" Conan and Spike exchanged glances and watched the stretcher as it was taken away. Conan raised his head and pointed to a small dot on the ceiling.
"Look there! Does anyone else see it!" Spike and Vash looked up jolt fully, as Conan climbed on a chair to get a better look, "It's a blood spatter." Spike said. Vash stomped his foot on the ground in confusion, "Yeah, but how did it get on the ceiling?" Conan laughed and hoped off the chair. Spike repeated himself once more, "Rinse-lather job" he was interrupted by Conan, "Rinse, Lather," "Repeat." Vash whispered.