The First Clue

Elwood was ready just minutes later. He began working on his tie as the sergeant lead him to the black and white squad car waiting for them. The wind whipped the fresh, powdery snow into their faces after leaving the hotel through the front lobby door. Neilson opened the driver's door, and climbed in. A moment later, Martin followed suit, and sat in the passenger's side. There was not any conversation during the ride. That suited Elwood just fine, as he never was much of a people person. About fifteen minutes later, they had arrived on the north side of the inner city. There was a row of police cars setting a perimeter around the crime scene, with an ambulance waiting until they could take the body away. Both the sergeant and the private eye climbed out of the vehicle and walked past the wall of cops and cars.

Once past the mass of black clothing and guns, Martin was met by the sight of three detectives closely examining the gruesome scene in front of them. Ignoring the body in the middle of them all, he looked for the smaller details. First thing that caught his eye; the empty gun cartridges. He could not count them from where he was at the time, but he was sure it was the same as every other crime scene. Next, the same hankie that was found every time one of these murders happened. After looking around a bit more, he realized something.

Beckoning for Sergeant Neilson to come over, he stood, eyes transfixed on this oddity. Once the policeman was there, Elwood asked, "Has anyone moved the body at all?"

"Not that I can tell. Give me a minute, and I'll find out for you." with that, the sergeant set off to ask questions of the detectives and a few choice cops. A few minutes later, he returned, shaking his head. "I've asked everyone that's been here since the report came in. They all said the same thing. No one here has moved the body."

"Then do we know who called in the murder?" Elwood asked, his eyes still not moving from the body. As if this clue was going to disappear from right under his nose.

"That we do know. A middle-aged man. Goes by the name, uh," Neilson trailed off as he flipped through his notepad, looking for the name. "Goes by the name John MacPherson."

"You may want to bring him in for questioning." the private eye stated simply.

"Why is that?"

"Because, there isn't any blood on this scene except for what's on this man's clothing and possibly what finished draining from him once the body was put there. This suggests that the body was moved."

Sergeant Neilson looked around the area incredulously. "How did no one else notice that?" He looked around a little more, trying to find even a speck of blood anywhere other than on this man's body, just to prove Elwood wrong. But to no avail. "Alright. We'll have him brought in. Anything else?"

"Let me look a bit more, and I'll let you know."

About an hour later, Martin's search brought up nothing else. He stuck his hands deep in his trench coat pockets as he walked up to Neilson. "Nothing else. I'm ready to move on."

"Alright. I'll give you a ride back to your hotel."

A short, silent car ride later, the two pulled up to the hotel, and Elwood climbed out. "We'll give you a call after we finish questioning Mr. MacPherson, so you can grab the report." Sergeant Neilson said just before driving off.