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[SCENE: The Queen's Chamber]

So ma'am, I understand this is the room where the incident took place?

That's right, Lieutenant. Over there by the window. I was sewing, and I just pricked my finger.

Sewing, you say?

Yes - I was working at my embroidery.

Is this it? Do you mind if I take a look?

Of course not, Lieutenant. Be my guest.

Oh, this is lovely. This is lovely work. Mrs Columbo, she would just love to have something like this over the fireplace of our police cottage. She can't get enough of unicorns.

[Flattered] Thank you very much.

Now, can you show me exactly where you were sitting when the pricking occurred?

I was right here on this stool by the window. I sit there to get the best of the light, because it's such fine work.

Of course, I understand. Oh, and you get a wonderful view too, don't you? Forests, pasture, gardens - so beautiful. But don't you get a little cold?

Cold, Lieutenant?

Well, the snow is lying thick on the ground under your window, which is wide open.

That's because window glass is still a rarity at the time of this story.

My apologies. So, it's worth sitting by the window for the light, even though the cold is enough to make your fingers numb?

No one said it was easy, being a queen.

Indeed they did not. My apologies again. Oh, and I see you have an ebony window frame! Unusual.

It was a wedding gift.

And a very handsome one. Well, I don't think I need keep you any longer, ma'am. The pricking incident all seems fairly straightforward. May I say what a pleasure it was to meet you - and I can't wait to tell my wife about those unicorns.

[Smug] Any time, officer.

[Turning back at the door] Oh, there's just one more thing.

Yes? How can I help you?

When you pricked your finger - very understandable, given those numb fingers - you say you were sitting inside the room?

Of course. Where else would I be?

Forgive me. It's just that, if you pricked you finger inside, I'm confused as to why we found two drops of blood in the snow outside. Would you care to explain that?

I--er--I mean--

Because [clambers onto stool] it seems to me that if I were sewing on this stool here, in order for my blood to fall into the snow I'd have to lean right out of the window, over the sill, like so, and then prick my finger. You see? You see how awkward that would be? How implausible?

[The queen's shoulders sag, universal signal (along with the evil voice) of a fair cop] All right, Lieutenant. You got me. I did it for the symbolism.

The whole snow white, blood red, ebony black thing?

Of course.

I sympathise. But see, where you made your mistake was claiming on the accident insurance...

EXEUNT

(no subject)

Date: 2012-09-26 05:44 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] to_love_a_rose
Discovered this via random clicking around DW, and found it hilarious. I enjoy hearing that other people find my posts amusing, so I thought you might want to know that as well. :)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-09-22 04:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] vschanoes.livejournal.com
Queen: Sir, due to the regrettable absence of window glass, you will note that the snow is piled up on the windowsill and for a few inches inside the room. Obviously, it was onto that snow--the snow on the inside sill--that my blood fell. You may tell the insurance company to send brighter lackeys in the future.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-09-22 05:09 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] steepholm.livejournal.com
Mmm, skin the colour of dusty sludge...

Of course, there is an argument that Peter Falk should stick to narrating The Princess Bride.

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