Ichabod rose early, 5am to be exact. He readied himself for work, and then gave his wife and daughters each a peck on the head. He was then off to work on his newest case.
The night before Ichabod had been fortunate enough to find a fellow constable trustworthy enough to take his samples and run a few tests on them. Ichabod was off first to see this fellow, to find any possible leads.
"William?" he cautiously called, sometime later as he peaked his head in through a doorway a few blocks from his own home.
"Ichabod? Is that you?"
Ichabod smiled and stepped fully inside.
"Why it is indeed. Hope I haven't woken you or interrupted you in any manner."
"Oh no, no, no. You're never a bother. In fact, it seems to me you have impeccable timing."
"If only," Ichabod let off wistfully, before bringing his thoughts back to work, "So yes, how did the tests come up?"
"Well according to my findings," the man of 47 began, pushing his glasses up his nose, unaware of his Bozo the clown style grey hair, "the killer was no man."
"Not a man?"
"He couldn't have been. Your pressure readings from the stab wounds were low, as were the testosterone levels."
"Incredible. This case got much more interesting, but much more difficult at the same time. Thank you William, but I'm afraid this meeting will have to be cut short for I must be off."
"I understand, Ichabod. It's always a pleasure, though. You and Katrina need to come by for dinner again some time soon," William called out happily as Ichabod made his way out the door.
"Of course, old friend!"
And then Ichabod was out the door. But not five minutes later, Ichabod heard his name being called.
"Constable Crane! Constable Crane!"
Turning to face his addresser, he rose a single eyebrow while speaking, "Yes? How can I help you?"
"Constable, they've taken Don Rice into custody. The fiancée. They want you to come down."
Ichabod nodded to the younger man.
"Thank you Constable Greeves. I can come now."
Later, once Edward had led Ichabod down to the courthouse, a deep frown was found on the elder man's face.
"Problem, Constable Crane?"
"Why are we at the courthouse? The proper questioning has yet to take place, or so I would assume."
"I know, sir, but this is where they're holding the questioning. Before a jury."
"Before a jury?! They can't do that! It's illegal! With a questioning he has the rights of privacy! Does the legal system not care for itself anymore?!"
"That's not all, Constable Crane. Mr. Rice came in with a lawyer."
"He could afford a lawyer?"
"A Heather Kohl."
"A woman? Really?"
"So the press is here."
"The press?"
"Constable," Edward began, "it's already in the papers. We're the wreck portrayed. This is a hope of cleanup work."
"Fantastic," Ichabod couldn't help but dryly let out, "Well, thank you Constable Greeves. I'll handle this to the best of my ability."
"I know you will Constable Crane. The best of luck to you."