It was a frosty day, felt like snow could descend any moment. Grimm street looked like a ghost town. I went to the local police department to inquire their understanding of the case. As I entered, a plump and stout man got a glimpse of me and rushed over. "What must a fine lady like you be doing at our station? Did someone steal your chain? Or perhaps a purse? Don't worry. I will be sure to look into the case personally.",He flirted. "Are you really that desperate officer? Get a life. I'm 33 years old, retired from my job and yet called in for work again the very next day. Give me a break will you?", I said rather annoyed. "Ah that must be troublesome. Name the chap who called you for work even after retirement. I'll make him repent.", He said in vain. I rolled my eyes and went to the inspector consultant's table. "Tamara Boris, Commander of Intelligence Bureau - Metropolitan Police. I believe Commissioner has informed my presence today. On a side note, please fix the staff here. They get too comfortable with women.", I said as I glared into the stout man's soul. He looked like he was going to breakdown. "Jerome will be leading you to the superintendent of our department, ma'am." The consultant said pointing towards the stout man.
We walked down the hallways and prison cells. "I must say you have a quite interesting taste in attire ma'am.", Jerome said trying to break the ice. "Even though beers look the same and serve the same purpose, we all have our preferred choices in particular brands. I tend to apply the same logic.", I said. "Ah! I didn't mean to offend you ma'am. It was my first time witnessing a women dressed in a jacket, jeans and sneakers, claiming to be a high post in the Scotland Yard.", He said nervously. "Well 'Jerome', Don't judge a book by its cover seems to be your take away from this conversation. Now I would appreciate some silence.", I said ironically. His smile slowly faded into a worried expression. It's surprising how words can change situations dramatically.
We entered the office of the Superintendent. By the looks of it, the SP looked like a rigid and serious officer with his stern, auburn eyes and salt and pepper hair. "Commander! We've been expecting you.", He said. "SP Hammons, I believe?", I said as I reached out for a handshake. "You can call me George.", he said shaking my hand. " I went through the details of the case. I'm sure we will crack it. It's just one of those slit throat cases like the ones we see in Hundenberry Avenue. We just need the suspects and need to trace the finger imprints possibly left at the site.", I rambled. The SP and Jerome exchanged nervous expressions. "What?", I said expecting one of them to comment on my dressing style or my ways of analyzing the case at hand. George whimpered."I guess you would have to take a look at the body yourself ma'am."