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50/50: Whitechapel

Chapter Text

The rhythmic flash of lights lit the scene. It was just gone 3am, so the purposeful activities that might otherwise have occupied the milling coppers - more for the sake of any nosey members of the public than real operational efficiency - were no longer needed, so the boys in blue were standing about morosely, yawning a lot and looking put out.

Joe took it all in and he couldn't really blame them. He had had around forty-five minute's sleep because his unquiet mind was chasing thoughts around his noggin. But, Joe was a Detective Inspector, and as such he had to set an example, so he fixed his jaw in a suitably severe fashion and ducked under the tape. He shot the nearest bobby a 'look lively' expression and swallowed down a smile when he jumped to attention. He ducked into the white plastic tent and the facade slipped away, his shoulders slumped and Kent yawned at him from over Miles' hunched shoulders.

Llewellyn was somehow crouched down over the victim, her belly was swollen and rounded with child. Joe wondered if she was perpetually pregnant - to be honest he seemed to have lost track of exactly how many children she had. She disappeared for a short time and then her stomach seemed to swell over the next few months until she went away again. Joe briefly wondered if he had ever met her husband, then wondered if it was insensitive to assume that she even had one, before he remembered that he was meant to be working, and recaptured the thread of Llewellyn's spiel.

"...quite a hefty blow to the left side of the head. I will have to check, obviously, but this house brick seems like it might be the murder weapon. Whoever used it would have gotten a lot of blood on their arms."

"The vic's mate was covered in it, he reckons it's from the first aid he administered." Kent supplied to the others.

"Well, there are also a few bloody fingerprints on the brick..."

She was interrupted by a strange buzzing, everyone's attention turned to the victim's hand. A phone vibrated insistently. For a moment everyone was still, not certain what to do. Llewellyn reached over and tried to unhook it, but she was on the wrong side of the corpse, so it was Chandler who snagged it from the loose grip of dead fingers. The whole thing was so unusual that he didn't even note the slide of his gloved fingers against the skin of the deceased. He looked down to see a small notification flashing in the top right-hand corner, and his own face. The front camera was on and set to video.

Joe stopped the feed, hitting the small square.

"Maybe there's something useful on it." Miles offered. Chandler started the video from the beginning, Miles and Kent creeping closer to peer over his shoulder, Llewellyn was left to struggle to her feet without assistance. The footage was jumpy. The victim had obviously started filming accidentally, all of a sudden a conversation he was having with his friend turned violent. Tinny voices leaked out of the speakers as the argument reached a crescendo. Llewellyn was on her feet by the time the death blow came, the phone still in the victim's hand, his friend and murderer's face almost artfully framed as he held up his hands in defense.

"That is a perfect example of how not to do things." the M.E deadpanned.