There she was, beautifully posed in her crimson dress, with her bare arm lay across the table. Her face is pale and waxy as a porcelain doll. Who could have done this? I wondered painfully as I surveyed the scene.
“What can you gather, detective?” My colleague, Detective Adam, asked.
I shook my head, frowned, and looked down at the blank page of my notepad. It’s my first case and I have nothing. I took a deep breath and let my senses do my work for me for a second. “I smell chemical.”
“What kind of chemical?”
“I’m not sure.” I was never good at chemistry. “But it looks like it’s coming from over there.” I pointed at the bookcase in the corner.
I watched my colleague poke around the bookcase. “Help me move this.”
After some effort, we moved aside the bookcase, revealing a gaping hole in the wall. Inside was a small metal shelf stashed with moldy glass bottles of various chemicals. “She’s been poisoned. That’s why she look like that.” My colleague concluded.