“Let’s get going.” said my partner enthusiastically. We took our coats and left for the crime scene. As we were about to reach the spot we entered Willington Street which was quite famous street in Zathura. On any other normal day it used to be fully crowded, but today the scene was totally different. As we passed through the street we noticed that it was totally empty as if the government had all of a sudden issued curfew.
We were the first to reach there. So I and my partner started looking for clues and evidence before it could get tampered by those goons in uniform. It was a cold-blooded murder and whoever had committed the crime must be an incarnation of Satan. The smell was so awful that we had to cover our nose with the muffler. We were just looking around for more evidence and my partner yelled out my name.
When I went to him I was baffled by what I saw. It was a severed head of a horse on one of the branches of the tree. Blood was dripping from it and it was all over the place. That gave me the creeps in the world.
To begin with, the place was near the city cemetery; there was a severed head of a horse in front of me and a headless body of a man lying on the street. I took photographs of everything and noted down the points that my partner made. There were clues and yet we were not able to connect the dots. What did all this mean? A man with no head and a horse with no body. We made our way out before the cops could arrive.
As we were leaving the street we saw a girl of seven standing at the doorway of her house, holding a sheet of paper and she was reading it to us. “Hello, Detectives. So we meet again. I hope you like my present this time. Let’s play a little game, Shall we?” As soon as the girl done reading it she ran inside the house and the entire house exploded. The sheet that she had left outside was partially burned when I picked it up. I was already scared with the sight of whatever had happened when with a look of disbelief I read on it the name
“Prof JAMES MORIARTY”