McGreedy awoke, rubbed the sleep out of his eye, and prepared himself for work. Shit, shower, shave, skivvies, slacks, shirt, socks, shoes… What was that on his shoes? Odd. Looked like mud or something. He smudged it off and paid it no mind. He couldn’t find his usual gold cuff links, so he wore the silver ones instead.

At work, McGreedy was given a new case. Apparently, someone had been murdered the night before, and the police had no leads, no witnesses, and very little evidence. Luckily, they’d left the scene as they found it… McGreedy hated when they disturbed his crime scene before he got there.

Upon arrival, McGreedy pulled on his gloves, put film in his camera, and approached the crime scene. A young girl, not more than 19 or 20, lay in a pool of blood, multiple stab-wounds in her chest… There was no murder weapon in sight, but there were shoe prints in the puddle next to her body…

And a pair of gold cuff links.

His phone rang. His wife was on the line.

Their carving knife was missing.