I found my beloved wife that morning in the greenhouse. She always took her breakfast among her collection of plants to remind her of the old days. Before breakfast, she would spend an hour in meditation. I'd find her sitting cross-legged on the floor with her katana placed in front of her.
"You know, mum, I'm never sure if you're meditating of catching a few extra winks of sleep," I said, gently placing the breakfast tray and the newspaper down on the table. She'd never admit it, but I noticed the tiniest of smirks on Vastra's face after my joke.
"The art of meditation is one that cannot be taken lightly, my dear. Fortunately, I have found the peace I sought for the day, just in time for breakfast."
"Of course, mum. There's a rather interesting article on the front page about a metor shower that happened about a month ago-"
Vastra stood and gently kissed me on the mouth.
"Good morning, Jenny," she said.
"Good morning yourself."
I pulled lightly on Vastra's arm and drew her to me….and that's when Strax burst in.
"Pardon me," he said, gruffly, which was how he said most things, "if you can stop doing…kissy things for just a moment. We have a case!"
"Another breakfast will have to go cold, sadly," Vastra said as she picked up her sword.
I looked mournfully at the perfectly made porridge that was about to go uneaten. Instead, I scooped up the bowl and brought it with us, just in case.
Our carriage hopped along the cobblestones until we stopped outside of one building that looked identical to all the others on the lane. Each of the structures looked as though a strong gust of wind could send them toppling one into the other like dominoes. Children ran through the streets, some without shoes, some looked like they hadn't taken a bath since they day they were born. There was a young woman clutching a crying child sitting alongside the road. She tried to sooth him, but the child continued to cry and cry. I carefully pulled the bowl of porridge from the cart and gave it to the mother.
"It may be cold," I said, "but I hope it helps."
The child dunked his hand right into the bowl and began to eat, his crying had stopped. The mother looked at me with a strange smile that came more from shame than happiness. She took her child's hand and hurried down the road. I felt a familiar, cold hand on my shoulder. Vastra never spoke much, but her silent strength always supported my spirit.
"It reminds me of where I grew up," I said.
"Come," Vastra said with her arm around me, "not all of this country's problems can be repaired by us. Let's focus, for now, on the ones we can solve today."
I knew she was right, but that didn't mean I had to like it.
Vastra and I entered the building while Strax waited by the carriage. The inside of the building looked as poor as the outside did. The rose petal print wallpaper was the only source of brightness in the dreary building, and even that had begun to peel and sprout mold. The lower flat's door was closed up and at the bottom of the staircase to the upper flat was a man's body. The man was a large, not fat by any measure, but certainly not a petite fellow. He laid face down with both arms twisted and broken behind his back.
"Madame Vastra," Inspector Fredricks approached us with his hat removed, "I apologize for calling you out here. This seems to be a rather open and shut case. But I always feel a bit more comfortable when you've had a quick look at things."
"A wise policy, Inspector," Vastra said with her face covered by a dark veil, "it is exactly that kind of thinking that will ensure your continued success with the London police."
Vastra knelt beside the man's body and delicately inspected his shattered arms and the broken wood of the banister that was scattered around the staircase.
"It seems as though he and his wife got into an argument and then she pushed him down the stairs. As I said, open and shut."
"The neighbors?"
"That flat's been empty for nearly three months now."
"What makes you so sure his wife did it?" I asked.
"We get murders in neighborhoods like these all the time and the wife is always the one who kills her husband."
"Inspector," Vastra said, "I've given your intellect some credit, please don't make me retract my earlier compliments because you allowed such moronic sentences out of your mouth."
The inspector opened his mouth to speak, but then he decided to follow Vastras advice. A part of me thinks she can be a bit rude at times, but another part of me finds it too funny to mind.
"Where is victim's wife currently?"
"We brought her down to the station for more questioning."
"You'll want to release her as soon as I speak to her. She should not be considered a suspect in this case."
The inspector sputtered.
"Madame!" he said, "I certainly hope there is a good reason."
"Jenny," Vastra said, "what do you see on the staircase?"
"It looks like," I knelt down and could see dirt in the shape of boots climbing the staircase, "dirt bootprints, mum."
"Prints that perfectly match the shape and size of the boots on the victims feet," Vastra explained to the inspector and then turned back to me, "Please climb the stairs and tell me where the prints lead?"
I scurried up each step, careful not to step on any of the foot prints.
"It looks like they go down the hall," I called down stairs, then I entered the apartment and followed them to the bedroom, "they stop in the middle of their bedroom, mum!"
"And at no point do they return to the staircase, correct?"
"Yes, mum!"
"Please bring me any female shoes you see in the bedroom, dear."
Looking under the bed, I found a pair of modest slippers that I quickly snatched up. I hurried back to the top of the stairs because I did not want to miss a moment of Vastra's final deduction.
"Here you are mum," I held up the slippers proudly.
"Now, inspector, since our victim was still wearing the clearly dirty boots at the time of his accident," Vastra removed one of the boots to display their filth, "we must assume, from the lack of foot prints returning to the staircase, that our victim was not pushed from the top of the stairs, but carried from the bedroom, through the hallway, and hurled from the top of the steps. This would explain the damage to both arms. They weren't broken in the fall; they were mostly likely crushed by an attacker of great strength. Which would also explain the shattered banister," Vastra lifted one of the wooden pieces, "this is sturdy wood and a man who simply fell down the steps would not strike the banister with enough force to break it in a manner as destructive as this. Judging by the size of those slippers, the victim's wife is a petite woman, am I correct?"
The inspector knew he had been proven wrong.
"You are correct, madam. She is smaller than even Ms. Flint up there."
"Now, do you still believe that a small woman of no more than one hundred and twenty could lift her," Vastra quickly glanced down at the body, "two hundred and ten pound husband, carry him about two meters, and hurl him down a flight of stairs with enough strength to shatter a pine wood banister?"
"Well," the inspector said, "when you explain in such a manner as that…"
"I will need to speak with the victim's wife this afternoon. Then if you could kindly release her, I am certain she would be most appreciative."
Vastra turned her head up and walked for the door. I quickly followed.
"Have a lovely afternoon," I said with a polite curtsy to the inspector.
We walked across the cobblestones to the carriage.
"That was spectacular, one of your best, mum!"
"Thank you, Jenny, though I simply pointed out the obvious."
"Oh, of course, mum."
We arrived at the carriage and found Strax standing with several small children standing at military rest lined up in front of him.
"Finally," Strax called when he saw us, "I've already taught several of these urchins to march and properly salute. They will make unstoppable sleeper agents when the Sontaran Empire finally rains fire down on this blasted planet!"
Strax turned to his miniature military and gave them a final salute.
"Strax Squad, dismissed! SONTAR-HA!"
"SONTAR-HA!" the children shouted and then they ran off, giggling.
"Strax," Vastra said, "your experiences as a nurse have made you quite suited to be a nanny."
Starx looked annoyed, as he often did.
"At least if I was their nanny they'd be well prepared, vicious conquerors. Where to now, Madame?"
"The police station, Strax," a smile crept across Vastra's face, "we have a rather intriguing murder case on our hands."