Chapter Text
John,
It has only been about two weeks now and I already find myself in the unfortunate position of needing to consult my doctor (that's you, in case you were wondering).
Do not worry, I am not ill.
Gary came by today to drop off a few cases. John, they were all so boring. I solved half the stack in thirty minutes.
But there was one, John, one that triggered my interest. It was a frustrating one, I will confess. Took me an entire hour to solve. I kept asking about your opinion, and while I did appreciate how you let my mind work itself instead of spoiling it, after a while I started getting angry that you did not reply. It was only after I laid on the sofa with my back turned to your chair that I realised what I had been doing. I thought I would tell you about it via a letter.
I can only imagine how dull it is there, without me. Who solves the cases in the war? I bet it takes Scotland Yard days to get them wrong. This is precisely why I decided to give you the chance to solve the case yourself, to keep your mind warm. Here it is:
Two on duty policemen go on patrol with their two respective police dogs somewhere on the outskirts of London. One of the dogs discovers a single cut-off finger lying on the grass. The only places nearby are a small grocery shop, an old-fashioned café and a couple of houses. There is no further evidence but when questioned, the residents of the two houses said they had seen nothing, the café owner said he only worked during the day and the man from the grocery store explained he had only opened a few nights ago after a vacation and had not noticed anything suspicious. What happened?
I sure hope you put your good brain to work with this one.
- SH
P.S. The murderer is the café owner.