Steed handed Mrs. Peel a manila folder. "According to the identification
found on the victim, she was one Maura Kipling."
"Where did she work? Did she have any enemies? Could anyone have wanted her dead?" Mrs. Peel shot off the questions in a rapid fire manner.
"Ms. Kipling was nineteen. She was a student at the University of Oxford, and was home visiting her parents for the holidays. She worked part-time at the Cool Beans Coffee Shop, two blocks away from her dorm. Not exactly where one would meet mortal enemies," Steed answered cooly. "Her parents say that she had no enemies, everyone loved her, and she was the most popular girl in her class."
"No enemies, the most popular girl in her class," Mrs. Peel murmured the facts to herself. "Could it have been,"
"A killing by chance," Steed completed the sentence. "It doesn't appear to be. If it was a killing of chance, how could her body have decomposed so quickly? Acid?"
"No," Mrs. Peel quickly eliminated that choice. "Her clothes were in perfect condition. If acid had been used, there would have been acid on the clothing too."
"Well," Steed was baffled, "I'm baffled. I'll go talk to the girl's family. And you,"
"Will go research and see if there is any way to scientifically explain this," Mrs. Peel completed, striding purposefully out the door of Steed's flat.
**************************************************************************** **********
A young teenage boy of around fourteen or fifteen raced down the street, alarm distorting the features on his normally handsome face. His bright green eyes were wide in his head, his chocolate brown hair drenched with sweat. He turned down a small back street, and paused, leaning against the brick wall. He smiled. He'd lost the weird person who had been following him. He turned to run down the street he had just entered, and ran right into a person. The boy lost his balance, and fell back, onto the cold, hard pavement. A whirring sound started. Once again, time seemed to pass rapidly. The boy's face sprouted pimples, and he grew several inches in the space of seconds. His hair got thinner, and he began to bald. Wrinkles sprouted before the remaining bits of his hair fell out. His teeth followed, yellow and chipped. His eyes, once bright, were dull and losing the light of life. His skin flaked off.
"Pity," a cold voice came from the person holding the aging gun. "He had such potential." He laughed.
**************************************************************************** **********
Mrs. Peel was driving her blue Lotus down the crowded London roads. Beside her was a manila folder full of research. She had researched in every medical book the library had. But to no avail. The books had had no information about how a body could decompose so quickly. That is, unless they lived in a tropical climate, which England certainly was not. Instead, Mrs. Peel had researched the process of decomposition. Brring! Her cell phone gaily rang.
She picked up the sleek silver phone, and pressed a red button. "Hello," she answered.
"Mrs. Peel," it was Steed. "You're never going to believe this, but,"
"There's been another murder, with the same bizarre happenings as the first one," Mrs. Peel guessed.
Steed paused. How did she do it? Oh well."Meet me at," he rambled off an address. "And soon," he managed to get in, before Mrs. Peel hung up.
"Where did she work? Did she have any enemies? Could anyone have wanted her dead?" Mrs. Peel shot off the questions in a rapid fire manner.
"Ms. Kipling was nineteen. She was a student at the University of Oxford, and was home visiting her parents for the holidays. She worked part-time at the Cool Beans Coffee Shop, two blocks away from her dorm. Not exactly where one would meet mortal enemies," Steed answered cooly. "Her parents say that she had no enemies, everyone loved her, and she was the most popular girl in her class."
"No enemies, the most popular girl in her class," Mrs. Peel murmured the facts to herself. "Could it have been,"
"A killing by chance," Steed completed the sentence. "It doesn't appear to be. If it was a killing of chance, how could her body have decomposed so quickly? Acid?"
"No," Mrs. Peel quickly eliminated that choice. "Her clothes were in perfect condition. If acid had been used, there would have been acid on the clothing too."
"Well," Steed was baffled, "I'm baffled. I'll go talk to the girl's family. And you,"
"Will go research and see if there is any way to scientifically explain this," Mrs. Peel completed, striding purposefully out the door of Steed's flat.
**************************************************************************** **********
A young teenage boy of around fourteen or fifteen raced down the street, alarm distorting the features on his normally handsome face. His bright green eyes were wide in his head, his chocolate brown hair drenched with sweat. He turned down a small back street, and paused, leaning against the brick wall. He smiled. He'd lost the weird person who had been following him. He turned to run down the street he had just entered, and ran right into a person. The boy lost his balance, and fell back, onto the cold, hard pavement. A whirring sound started. Once again, time seemed to pass rapidly. The boy's face sprouted pimples, and he grew several inches in the space of seconds. His hair got thinner, and he began to bald. Wrinkles sprouted before the remaining bits of his hair fell out. His teeth followed, yellow and chipped. His eyes, once bright, were dull and losing the light of life. His skin flaked off.
"Pity," a cold voice came from the person holding the aging gun. "He had such potential." He laughed.
**************************************************************************** **********
Mrs. Peel was driving her blue Lotus down the crowded London roads. Beside her was a manila folder full of research. She had researched in every medical book the library had. But to no avail. The books had had no information about how a body could decompose so quickly. That is, unless they lived in a tropical climate, which England certainly was not. Instead, Mrs. Peel had researched the process of decomposition. Brring! Her cell phone gaily rang.
She picked up the sleek silver phone, and pressed a red button. "Hello," she answered.
"Mrs. Peel," it was Steed. "You're never going to believe this, but,"
"There's been another murder, with the same bizarre happenings as the first one," Mrs. Peel guessed.
Steed paused. How did she do it? Oh well."Meet me at," he rambled off an address. "And soon," he managed to get in, before Mrs. Peel hung up.
