The Third Man (Friday Barnes)

Respectfully disrespect

A/N: Ok... I came up with this mystery and I hope it's good. Let me know what you think. 

Also let me know if I should do an Ian and Friday POV.

Anyway, meanwhile in Australia me and Friday were rapping up a case.

A 65-year-old man had died in his apartment. He was surrounded by blood but no wound on the body. The cops believed he had been chocked judging by the blue tinge in his skin and the swollenness around his neck but that is all they'd got.

A window had been broken and there was a hole in the wall. The room was completely empty leaving officials to believe it had been robbed.

"We find the thief; we find the murderer," said Greg.

Greg is a head investigator in the murder department and the king of dumb asses. His official title is inspector Graves, but I just call him Greg to show him how much I respectfully disrespect him. We all hate him including Friday, so when he told her how to do her job, she just ignored him and examined the body.

She got on her hands and knees and pulled out her nerdy little magnifying glass. Friday doesn't believe in rapid examinations; they must be annoyingly thorough. She checked his pockets, checked the inside of his coat, she even sniffed the deceased body (Melanie note: I hate it when she dose that).

Friday got up and stated "This house wasn't robbed. He wasn't murdered."

"Here we go" Greg (Melanie note: Ughh! Hate that guy. What a pure waste of oxygen) snapped, rolling his eyes "Nancy Drew here is going to solve us mystery that that's already been solved."

"Please refrain from calling me Nancy Drew" Friday said coldly " The case hasn't been solved yet because you're the one solving it. Would you like me to prove my point or not."

I placed my hand to my heart like a proud mother; she insulted him.

"For all means Enola Holmes show us how it's done" Greg sneered. I cannot lie I had a very strong urge to slap him across the face, but I had to refrain myself; I didn't want to touch him.

"He wasn't killed he died from Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. All the regular symptoms are there, the blue tinge in his skin is cyanosis. He's been recovering from a chest infection, judging by the way his chest is positioned he has them a lot. The blood is from his mouth which explains why his neck is swollen. The coughing would have caused that. Coughing up blood is a regular symptom of COPD" Friday spat it all out so fast and so quickly that it was hard to keep up, so don't be upset if you can't understand it.

"COPD is normally not fatal unless provoked, but his fingers are stained yellow suggesting he could have a bad smoking habit. This made me check his pockets, in which I found cigarette box missing four cigarettes and receipt of when he bought them with today's date on it. Meaning he had four cigarettes just this morning, couldn't be good for his COPD. Now what can we deduct will happen to a 65-year-old man with a smoking addiction, Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, and morbid obesity?" Friday asked.

I raised my hand like I was still in primary school "A heart attack."

"Yes Melanie good job" Friday smiled "A heart attack. I doctor could have told you that."

Greg grimaced "Yeah, yeah he has some heart condition. Still doesn't explain the robbery."

"Because his house wasn't robbed" Friday snapped, "Look at him."

"I am" Greg sneered.

"No, you're not. You've acknowledged his dead and that's it. Look at what he's wearing" Friday said, she squatted down next the dead man and tugged at his jacket.

"What about what he's wearing" I asked also confused.

"He's wearing something professional but at the same time lose as he were doing something physical" Friday replied.

Friday didn't know much about fashion, but she was right one this one. He was wearing a black business coat, underneath a grey polo shirt, jeans, and steel cap boots.

"So!" Greg hissed like a snake one steroids.

"So, he clearly is going somewhere this morning, but where? I checked his coat pocket and inside was this" she said pulling out a piece of crumpled, yellow stained paper. On it read James something 0477 693 238 "This is the phone number of the local real estate agent James Allison. I remember seeing his advertisement on the drive here. Friday stated chucking the piece of paper at Greg "I've done most of the work, I'll leave the rest to you. Come on Mel we have a flight to catch."

She walked out leaving Greg gob smacked. Frankley... I was proud of her.