The first page of the story
The Murder Room was empty and dark. Someone had taped up the broken window with tattered black bin bags. Or at least that’s how it seemed at first. Then the darkness at the window turned to face us.
I may have sworn at that point. I’m not entirely sure.
As my eyes got used to the poor light I was able to make out the figure of a woman. She was tall with olive skin, dark hair and eyes, and huge leathery wings that were blotting out most of the natural light.
I was going to have to speak. I didn’t want to but someone had to break the silence and the field work handbook is always talking about taking control of the conversation.
“You wanted to speak to me?” I said. Which was terrible. Possibly the least in-control thing I could have said. At least I managed to keep my tone fairly even and neutral.
“No you wanted to speak to me.” She said. Her voice was sultry with an exotic accent that I couldn’t place. There was a sharp edge to it too as if she was well used to command.
“I did? I’m sure I would have remembered.” I said.
“I am a witness. I was the last person to speak to [REDACTED]. Apart from her killer, of course.” She said.
“Of course.” I said. I wasn’t sure what to make of her. I risked a slight head turn to see if Chris and Mycroft were going to be of any help. Chris looked frozen in place. At first I thought it was shock but then I realised that he was literally immobile.
“What did you do to them.” I said.
“Nothing. I did it to you. You and I are in the realm of the Fae. Here time passes much more quickly. He shall feel a brief moment of terror while we talk in private. He is the kind of man who makes my children angry. He would likely also make me angry and I do not like to be angry.”
To take a person into the realm of the Fae so seamlessly took great power. Just in case the huge wings hadn’t been enough of a clue. I looked at Chris again and now I knew what I was looking for I could see that he wasn’t entirely immobile he was just moving incredibly slowly. His mouth was open and he looked like he was beginning to swear. His arm was moving upward with the hand open probably in some sort of defensive gesture.
“Your children? Are you then a queen of the Fae?” I said.
“Nothing so bland. I am the Mother of the Fae. All the Fae.” She said.
Oh. Right. Her. I knew that I was probably epically screwed. I also knew that it meant she was off the suspect list. If she’d have wanted the Dingo dead she wouldn’t have needed to throw her off a building and if she had done it she could just have left the body in the realm of the Fae and we wouldn’t have known about it.
I raked in my bag for my notebook (yes an actual paper one) and a pen. I had a suspicion that Department tech might not work here.
“So tell me all about the last time you saw her alive?”
Department Y 