A fancifully dressed young man opened the door of the victorian mansion and walked calmly into the late October air. The breeze was at his back as he shrugged the suit jacket from his shoulders. Colin was not one for suits, he was one for old jeans and old shirts. He wasn't a high-end man like his father, or uncle. In fact he had no desire to live to be in that status. His best friend was a barrow boy, and he was proud of that.
He scampered down the sloping hillside, his feet catching on branches.
"Eli! Eli you there?" Colin called out.
"Hold up there, Colin." Came the response. Of course Eli was dealing with Errol, since he was thrown out the window. Errol's body was now mangled, and thankfully his eyes had been closed by Eli, otherwise they might have held the most haunting look of surprise. His neck was broken and his right hand laid its palm on the underside of his arm. He was still bleeding from the gunshot, though most of it had soaked into his shirt. Colin thought Eli would want his help so he sprinted down the rest of the hill and joined him at the foot.
"What a mess." He breathed, his breath coming in clouds.
"I can't even fathom who'd have done such a deed." Said Eli. For a boy who spent most of his time with goats, his vocabulary was exceptional.
"There is no evidence, whatsoever?"
"None. I saw a piece of cloth but was too slow to grab it. Daisy the goat ate it."
"Darn it all!" Exclaimed Colin. "Now she's gone and eaten it, there is no way to catch the culprit."
"Have you heard anything from your father or uncle?" Asked Eli.
"I hear that they might hire a detective come tomorrow. No idea what his name is." Colin paused for a moment. "I should get back to the party. Don't want to be gone for ages. See you, Eli."
"See you!"
