The Pumpkin Lady

II: Autolysis

The alleyway was unusually crowded, the entrance packed with policemen as they interviewed witnesses and kept curious onlookers out. Lucky for the two detectives, they had no trouble getting through the wall of men and proceeded towards the crime scene.

"Oh blimey, let me guess, someone sent you to interfere with our business. Again." Inspector O'Malley sighed, standing over an unmoving mass covered by a sheet.

"We came on our own accord, actually." Felix replied in a chipper tone, finally setting Dahlia down. "You didn't even bother to retrieve me? I thought we were friends, Charles!"

"I thought I told you not to call me that- why did they even let you through-?" O'Malley finally stood up; his brow wrinkled in frustration before finally relaxing with another exasperated sigh. He was a rather short man, his choice in clothes much too big for his little body only making him seem smaller. The wrinkles that accentuated every facial feature made him seem much older than he really was, though with his line of work, Dahlia couldn't blame him for developing them. O'Malley eventually relented, stepping aside and giving the two freelance detectives permission to examine the body.
 "As far as we know, the victim has been identified as Margaret Astley." O'Malley explained as Felix proceeded to lift up the sheet. "Judging by the lesions on her body, it was likely a homicide. She was discovered this morning by a couple trying to take a shortcut. We...sent a few officers to break the news to her parents."

"Margaret Astley? I remember seeing her name in the papers, not too long ago." Dahlia pointed out, hugging herself as she tried to keep warm. They left so quickly that she had no time to grab her coat.

"Right, a charity event, if I remember correctly. One of those socialite types, entirely superficial." Felix explained, examining the victim's stiff hands. "Unmistakable signs of rigor mortis, I'd say it's been about four hours since she passed." he paused, taking a closer look at her fingers. "Hm... there's splinters under her nails."  After a few agonizing moments, he pulled the sheet off the body completely.
 Dahlia had been used to seeing the dead, her entire life seemed to be centered on such tragedies. But what she saw was quite the bizarre scene. There sprawled the body of a young woman, Margaret Astley, having died far too soon as the age of 22. The sheen on her mint dress was a stark contrast to the crusty blood on her collar, having definitely trickled down from her chin. Her body was contorted and what skin that was exposed was covered in black and blue. The strangest part, however, was her head, seeming to have been stuffed into a pumpkin, no, a Jack 'o' lantern. The eyes were cut to be tiny and piercing, and its smile was that of a Cheshire cat grin. Dahlia could just barely make out the victim's bloodied, agape mouth through the holes in the pumpkin shell.

"Seems fresh," Felix continued, examining the pumpkin, "I'd say it was cut and hollowed very recently, still has some remnants of seeds." He picked up one of these tiny seeds, feeling it between his fingers. "Still moist. I'd say it was prepared as early as last night. The hole around the neck is cut precisely, big enough to fit a human head through. So, it was definitely a planned move, at least an intentional one.

"You know these things would usually be done in more sanitary conditions, right?" O'Malley interrupted.

"Ugh, too boring, waste of time." Felix waved him off, flicking the seed to the side and adjusting his glasses. Dahlia watched in anticipation as he finally pulled the pumpkin off her head. The poor lady's face was swollen beyond belief, her eyes swollen shut from the beating she seemingly took, and it was clear she was missing a few teeth. Dahlia flinched, taking a moment to look away.

"Whoever did this must have had quite the grudge against Miss Astley. I can imagine she'd have a few enemies, but none that could commit something quite as barbaric as this. That's not usually the style of her rich kind." Felix continued, pausing for a second before lowering his head.

"Sir what are you-?!" Dahlia exclaimed as Felix seemingly breathed in deep, eventually lifting his head again.

"Hm... Pinaud Clubman..." he turned towards Dahlia. "Ladies such as yourself don't use aftershave these days, do they?"

"Not that I know of...?" Dahlia replied, her eyes flicking back towards the victim. "Why?"

"No reason." Felix responded, turning back towards the body. "Seems that the final blow was strangulation, surprisingly." He pointed out, gesturing towards her neck before pulling down her collar, revealing chafing where a rope, or some other form of fabric, had been pulled tight around her.

"Bloody hell, that's no way to go..." O'Malley commented.

"Wait- what's that?" Dahlia pointed out, eventually kneeling down next to Felix and placing a finger near the victim's swollen lips. Hesitantly, she pushed a couple fingers through, the feeling of blood and saliva sending a shiver down her spine until she eventually hooked onto a metal object. Upon pulling out, it appeared to be a small gold chain, and at the very end was a small circular locket.

"I say, what's that doing in there?" Felix asked, peeking over Dahlia's shoulder as she opened the locket. On one side was the portrait of a man, gaunt faced and stern. On the other, a prim and well-dressed woman.

"Mr. and Mrs. Astley." Dahlia pointed out. "But why would she..."

"Likely placed there by the killer." Felix said, taking the locket in his hand and standing up, holding it in the air as he examined it. "They have already been shown to take some sort of sick entertainment in this, what with the pumpkin, I wouldn't be surprised if this was placed there just to further taunt her family." He paused for a few moments, before tucking the locket into his pocket. "Suppose there's only one way to find out, though. Charles," he began, turning to the exhausted detective, "Would you kindly provide the address of the Astleys? We'll take it from here. Meanwhile, don't be afraid to call for us if you find anything new."

"Tch, and what makes you think I'd just easily hand this off to you?" O'Malley scoffed.

"Well, unless Scotland Yard wants another scandal on their hands about the lazy investigative work done to find the killer of a socialite, I suggest you let the actual professionals proceed with this." 

O'Malley stared at him for a moment, about to argue this fact before choking back his words. Soon enough, as he always did, he let out a groan before finally relenting. "It's your ass, not mine. Tell the chief about this and I'll make sure you never step foot in another crime scene again." He complained, proceeding to pull a notebook and pencil out of his coat pocket and writing down the address for him, tearing the paper out and handing it to him.

Felix gave him a smile as he took the paper, giving him a pat on the shoulder before proceeding out of the alleyway. "Come along, Miss Berrycloth! There's much to be done!"