A writing prompt based on a post on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/p/DfCWv2yDNhb/?obrf=amQ3b28xZGljY3ox
M: Chief Inspector Hanford.
H: No, no. Not today, Mueller. I haven’t the time for your antics.
M: My apologies, I mistook you for an officer of the law.
H: You will retract that.
M: Are we not sworn to protect the peace?
H: Not today, Mueller.
M: I come to inform you that we have failed in our duties. Poor, defenseless Peace was enjoying her morning tea when she was violently murdered. Bashed upon the head whilst unsuspecting. Look you and see: a marble bookend lay beside the body.
H: Then have her file a report.
M: I have volunteered to file on her behalf. Even have my suspicions on the culprit. But first I need assurances.
H: I am in short supply.
M: Very well. Gilligan.
H: And this has nothing to do with yesterday’s case? Body washes ashore, and an excitable Mueller is passed over to investigate. Instead, the senior-ranking member, Detective Inspector Gilligan was assigned. Stirring any recollection?
M: It has nothing and yet everything to do with this crime. Gilligan, I regret to inform you, has succumbed to corruption.
H: Sergeant, I do not take accusations lightly. Best present compelling evidence.
M: Right here, sir.
H: A bag of dirt.
M: A bag of dirt from the shores at Westbridge.
H: You disrupted an active crime scene?
M: Don’t be ridiculous, sir. This dirt was recovered from 10 meters the side of an active crime scene.
H: I am without words.
M: Allow me to fill the silence. Last week, my sandwich was stolen from the community fridge. It was clearly labeled as my property, and yet no lunch for Mueller.
H: This is about a sandwich?
M: Sandwiches. Bacon sandwiches.
H: What did I say? Antics.
M: At the time, I had no evidence to pursue. But lo and behold. What should happen today? We’ve got another one. Same street. Same victim profile. But this time I spy a clue.
H: Buy another bloody sandwich!
M: A smear of dirt. A pattern of a muddy boot with a distinctively dark color. A dark colored soil that just so happens to come from the shores at Westbridge.
H: Out of my office.
M: But sir,
H: Out! There is work to be done. Real work! My condolences for your loss. There’s a deli down the block.
M: But my evidence.
H: Goes some way to compel, but I cannot open an internal investigation into–what on earth is all this? My precinct is covered in,
M: Muddy footprints, sir. And do note their terminus.
H: Find a mop, Mueller.
M: But,
H: Mop! Now!
M: Yes, sir.
H: Gilligan.
G: Yes, sir?
H: My office!