A/N: This was also from a Historical Fiction Smackdown based on images.
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The roads were damp in the impoverished little town about ten miles outside of London. The sky was a washed out grey that sent down a dreary feel. Two detectives, Roger and Clyde, dreadfully, trudged to the scene of the crime. They wore black, knee length trench coats and dark round hats. Detective Clyde was quite elderly so he needed a wooden cane for support.
As the two men carried on, breathing in the muggy air evaporating from the poor wet streets, the observed a group of children, laughing and singing as they danced about in a large circle without a care in the world. Detective Roger sighed as he briefly took his hat off to scratch his short golden brown hair. Little did these children know, a woman had been murdered in the apartment just above the printing office.
They then proceeded up the steps along the side of the building. Detective Clyde stumbled a bit, trying to get his frail shaking legs up these stairs, leaning on both the rail and his cane for support. Once they made it to the top, Detective Roger pushed open the door, which revealed a small square, dark room. Overall, the room appeared undisturbed with only a single green pot, and a candlestick on the floor. Those two items and the peasant girl, who's lifeless body rested in the center of the room, were the only things out of order.
The dead girl wore an ocean blue dress. Her golden hair splattered messily on the floor. Her stiff arms spread out above her head. Detective Clyde look onto the girl's face, which had been beaten so badly, it was unrecognizable.
Roger knelt down beside the girl, and stroked her straw hair, asking, "So what's the story."
Clyde huffed and sunk into a nearby wooden chair, before he answered, "Well, the town officers told me her fiancé did it so he and the noble Lady Beatrice could run away together."
The younger detective turned just his head and inquired, "The evidence?"
"All they found was the girl's bloody handkerchief in the boy's coat pocket," Clyde replied with a sigh. "He has already been locked away."
"And Lady Beatrice?" Roger asked.
"She is on her way to marry Sir Rockford as planned," Clyde explained, as he tapped his cane. "She left the night of the murder out of fear of this boy. She sent back a statement claiming she had no idea of his intentions and he seemed unstable to her from the moment she met him."
Roger sighed and turned his head back to the girl. "Well, it seems as though they already have it figured out. The boy must be guilty, so why were we called here."
Clyde responded, gruffly, "The officers here think they have they whole story figured out, but there is one piece to the puzzle that has yet to be revealed to confirm their theory."
"And what might that be?" Roger asked.
Again, Clyde tapped his cane and pointed to the candlestick, and said, "See there? Notice how there is not a spill of blood on that candlestick, yet the girl's face was beaten so badly she is deformed. Therefore, it could not have been used to kill the young lady. So my question to you, Detective Roger, where is the murder weapon?"
