The exercise:
Got back from ultimate about an hour ago and feeling brain tired. Good thing I wrote mine during breaks at work today.
Here's the starter for you: follow the trail.
Mine:
"They always leave evidence behind," Detective Dowler told me as he eyed the limp body behind the desk. Old Dickie was full of pearls of wisdom like that. "No matter how careful or clever they are, something is always forgotten, overlooked. We just have to find it."
My eyes scanned the trail of papers leading from the desk to the smashed window that looked out onto Tenth Street and the gaggle of gawkers lined up behind the yellow police tape. I crouched down to take a closer look at the printed contents of each page, the old bullet wound in my right calf screaming in protest. I already knew I would be needing some of my Jack Daniels medicine to get to sleep that night.
"I don't get all this lawyer mumbo jumbo," I muttered as I inspected the third page from the desk. "I know all the letters but they don't make no sense in this order."
"Lawyers don't even understand that nonsense," Dowler said. "Just keep your focus on what you do know and the clues will appear sooner or later. Hopefully sooner - I've got tickets to the Lakers game tonight."
I was about to ask him how he always managed to get courtside tickets when the first clue finally decided to reveal itself to me. On the edge of the fifth document from the desk was the tiniest hint of red, the sort of mark a paper cut would leave behind. I looked up at my partner and gave him a toothy grin.
"Bingo."
2 comments:
More Ultimate? Did you win this time, or was it just a practice? I went to the gym today, but I think it was a lot less demanding than your game.
If you don't mind, I'll carry on your story where you left off :)
Follow the trail
"What've you got?"
I grinned and pointed the mark out. Detective Dowler sucked air through his teeth like a backstreets mechanic.
"You think it's blood?"
My grin widened further. "No, wrong colour. Dried blood would be brown, and this is virtually crimson. I think we have nail polish."
He nodded ponderously. "Not much of a clue, nail polish rarely comes made up for just one woman."
"He's not wearing nail polish though." I pointed at the limp body.
"You sure?"
Something in Dickie's tone of voice made me pause, and I looked at the body. The head, with extra indentations, was lying on the hands. I laid the back of my hand gently against a cheek and rolled his head slightly to one side. James Tranter, recently deceased, was wearing carmine nail polish.
I didn't appreciate it at the time, but that was the second clue.
We lost both games again but it was still a lot of fun. And it wouldn't be nearly so tough on me if I actually remembered to stretch out my neck and shoulders properly.
Ah well, that's what pain killers are for.
I'm so glad you decided to continue with mine - I was considering suggesting it in my post but then managed to forget to.
Great final line too. I'll have to have a think about carrying on from there :)
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