The strangest aspect of the case was the footprints were coming from Death Rock, but none going to it.
On top of that, there was no body, no evidence of violence and certainly no blood.
“So why?” asked Tomkins, the head investigator, “am I doing here looking at footprints. Surely the tide will wash them away?”
“The tide has been in sir, and the prints are still here,” replied a junior constable who had been there far too long, was ravenously hungry and knew when he returned home his dinner would be a dried up offering in the oven.
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