Sticky fingers

I  scrutinised the scene of the crime.  A woman was lying face down, her chocolate-brown hair a mess, a pool of chocolate spreading from beneath her.  The handle of a chocolate dagger was melting next to the fire. I picked it up and put in an evidence bag.  As I walked around the room I noticed fingerprints on the edge of the chocolate desk.  I dusted with cocoa to take a copy.  There were teeth marks on the back of the chocolate sofa.  Quickly melting some white chocolate, I took an impression of the bite.  More cocoa revealed more prints on the open window – perhaps the killer had come in through there.  The victim was millionaire Coco Xocolatl, the opinionated food critic, known for making and breaking the reputations of many confectioners.  Ms  Xocolatl had many enemies.  There was a quiet knock and the door swung open to reveal a young man with a smile that made me melt – her son.  This was a sticky situation and a real mixed box; money talks, but chocolate sings.

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