You Have to Hand it to Him

You Have to Hand it to Him.

Hands
Hands

“The Victim?”
“Dead, sir.”
“Damn, that complicates things. Have we a suspect?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Has he admitted to it?”
“No, sir.”
“Hm, I see.”
“I’m presuming you’ve located the murder weapon.”
“Weapons.”
“Stranger still. Murder, as a rule, is carried out by a singular weapon be it a gun, knife, sword, etcetera, etcetera. But you say in this case there are two.”
“There are, sir.”
“And you’ve located them?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dare I ask where?”
“Wrapped about her neck, sir.”
“What are?”
“The murder weapons, they won’t let go.”
“And by murder weapons you mean…”
“His hands, sir. He says they’re sentient. They have a life of their own and they’ve chosen to disobey his commands. He claims there’s nothing he can do about it.”
“Really. I’m right to assume you’ve tried to remove them.”
“Oh, yes, sir. I can assure you they’re locked solid.”
“Clever. That’s clever beyond all words. In fact, I’d go so far as to say they’re the smartest pair of hands I’ve ever come across in my many years of service.”
“How so, sir?”
“Simple. If they remain locked about his…”
“Wife’s throat…”
“His wife’s throat then we shall be unable to take fingerprints.”
“But his hands are around her throat, sir.”
“He could be holding head her neck together. He could be stopping the bleeding. He could be warming her larynx or any number of excuses that a barrister might concoct.”
“So, what do we, sir.”
“Turn off the heating.”
“Turn off the heating!”
“Yes, and lay out some warm gloves.”
“And lay out some warm gloves!”
“Indeed. Then, we draw up a seat and sit and wait. If they’re as sentient as he insists, then sooner or later they’re going to get cold. When they do, they’ll reach out for those fur-lined beauties, and we’ll nab them.”
“That could take an age, sir.”
“Good point. In that case, get the innocent party, the husband himself, to drink cold water from a glass with a straw.”
“And?”
“He’s a man isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Nature will do the rest.”
“Brilliant, sir. But, sir?”
“Yes.”
“Where do we put the handcuffs?”
“Damn!”

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