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tamingthemuseTitle: Siddha (Part 1)
Fandom: Original story
Prompt #476 Siddha
Word Count: 584
The crush of dried leaves resonated under her shoes, and Det. Rosalie Washington quickly moved up her foot and glanced at the residue. The vegetal particles were barely visible on the dirty persian rug, and maybe nobody had noticed them before.
It wasn’t acceptable.
“Quinn”, she called out to one of the uniforms standing in the room. There was so many people around, too many actually, but it wasn’t uncommon at a crime scene.
The young woman looked up from the notes she was reviewing. “Yes, Ma’am?”
Washington pointed downward at the crushed leaves. “How come this isn’t flagged?”
Quinn inspected the carpet with a frown until she noticed what her superior was pointing out. As soon as she realised potential evidence had been left on the floor to fend for themselves, she gestured to a woman dressed in the standard CSI uniform.
“Deirdre, there’s more over there.”
The brunette sighed, but grabbed her equipment. In a couple of quick steps, she was in front of Washington. “Excuse me, Ma’am”, she said in a voice so low the detective could barely hear her. Rosalie stepped out of the way, and near Quinn. The uniform was sporting an apologizing face.
“We have found those dry residues in several places, but they are hard to spot with so many people in”, she said. “The one we’ve found so far have been photographed and bagged.”
Washington nodded. Evidence got lost during crime scene preliminary analysis. It happened, as unhappy as she was about it. There was very little she could do about it, especially since wasn’t the first one called in.
“We may still get something from it”, she replied to the uniform. “Fill me in”, she added then, gesturing loosely in the direction of the dead body. Quinn reopened the notebook she had closed at the arrival of her superior.
“Sherri Hendricks, 42, yoga instructor. Her neighbor saw her come back to her place yesterday afternoon around 3. She called the police this morning when she found the door slightly open and nobody answered her. She said the victim wasn’t very careful and often let her door opened when she was there, but she never forgot to lock it when she was heading out. There is no sign of break-in on the door, but the victim probably struggled while she was stabbed. The neighbor was out for most of the evening, and she hasn’t heard anything. Nothing seems to have been stolen, but we’ll need to check to make sure.”
Washington walked the room, scanning the décor to get a better idea of what it was like, even with the flock of people busy cataloguing every detail. Various Eastern symbols and ornaments showed that Sherri was likely in the philosophical side of yoga. The blood spatters, the scattered objects and furnitures indicated the struggle. The body was lying on its side, right in front of the desk. The M.E. was still looking at it to get an estimated time of death. The detective walked past them to look at the desk. The chair was on the floor. Sherri had probably been working when her murderer interrupted. She casted a look at the book open on the desk ; it was one of those heavy, thick volume that you only found in academic libraries. On the top of the pages was printed the title of the book.
“Siddha : alchemy in medieval India”, Rosalie read aloud.
“It sure didn’t help her to get immortality”, a familiar voice added.
Fandom: Original story
Prompt #476 Siddha
Word Count: 584
The crush of dried leaves resonated under her shoes, and Det. Rosalie Washington quickly moved up her foot and glanced at the residue. The vegetal particles were barely visible on the dirty persian rug, and maybe nobody had noticed them before.
It wasn’t acceptable.
“Quinn”, she called out to one of the uniforms standing in the room. There was so many people around, too many actually, but it wasn’t uncommon at a crime scene.
The young woman looked up from the notes she was reviewing. “Yes, Ma’am?”
Washington pointed downward at the crushed leaves. “How come this isn’t flagged?”
Quinn inspected the carpet with a frown until she noticed what her superior was pointing out. As soon as she realised potential evidence had been left on the floor to fend for themselves, she gestured to a woman dressed in the standard CSI uniform.
“Deirdre, there’s more over there.”
The brunette sighed, but grabbed her equipment. In a couple of quick steps, she was in front of Washington. “Excuse me, Ma’am”, she said in a voice so low the detective could barely hear her. Rosalie stepped out of the way, and near Quinn. The uniform was sporting an apologizing face.
“We have found those dry residues in several places, but they are hard to spot with so many people in”, she said. “The one we’ve found so far have been photographed and bagged.”
Washington nodded. Evidence got lost during crime scene preliminary analysis. It happened, as unhappy as she was about it. There was very little she could do about it, especially since wasn’t the first one called in.
“We may still get something from it”, she replied to the uniform. “Fill me in”, she added then, gesturing loosely in the direction of the dead body. Quinn reopened the notebook she had closed at the arrival of her superior.
“Sherri Hendricks, 42, yoga instructor. Her neighbor saw her come back to her place yesterday afternoon around 3. She called the police this morning when she found the door slightly open and nobody answered her. She said the victim wasn’t very careful and often let her door opened when she was there, but she never forgot to lock it when she was heading out. There is no sign of break-in on the door, but the victim probably struggled while she was stabbed. The neighbor was out for most of the evening, and she hasn’t heard anything. Nothing seems to have been stolen, but we’ll need to check to make sure.”
Washington walked the room, scanning the décor to get a better idea of what it was like, even with the flock of people busy cataloguing every detail. Various Eastern symbols and ornaments showed that Sherri was likely in the philosophical side of yoga. The blood spatters, the scattered objects and furnitures indicated the struggle. The body was lying on its side, right in front of the desk. The M.E. was still looking at it to get an estimated time of death. The detective walked past them to look at the desk. The chair was on the floor. Sherri had probably been working when her murderer interrupted. She casted a look at the book open on the desk ; it was one of those heavy, thick volume that you only found in academic libraries. On the top of the pages was printed the title of the book.
“Siddha : alchemy in medieval India”, Rosalie read aloud.
“It sure didn’t help her to get immortality”, a familiar voice added.
