There is where I apologize for everything I've not done correctly: the lack of beta, the strange use of language, the possible offense to people named Stanley, and my taking liberties with the trufax of quarrying apparatus.
For the record, Pevans was a quite curious cat in the manner of some enthusiastic scholars and satisfaction trimmed his whiskers profoundly whilst he was trespassing all over a privately owned quarry, searching out samples of the Purbeck marble. Overexcited and under stress, he dropped stone dead in the lap of 'Bloody Mary', a device used to shape marble blocks for building. His collapse brushed the lever and the machine did its job: that is, tap and slice. Stanley, foreman-cum-tour guide, coming across this debacle very early in the morning, hosed off the resultant bits and blood, kindly redressed Pevans in the formal kit he had in his boot, hauled his remains off to a safe place he knew, suitable for stashing, and thoughtfully dumped the body way up high, third floor, abandoned house, to keep off the curious local young lads and lassies, for safety's sake. Later, when the stone dust had settled, he and his (ahem) boss and longtime companion Whirring concluded it was a better idea to inform the police of this chain of events.
Ergo, there was no real crime and there was never a murder; Mr Pevans is a well-learnt klutz I made up solely of whole cloth, and this is absolutely not a case fic.
For the record, Judith has been carrying the torch for Mary for quite a long time now.
By implication, there are any number of 'Strange Bedfellows' in this fic.
I do hope you enjoyed it despite all that. Cheers!