the most masterful murder solve of all time... maybe | theda

[Sydney Lamont]

january 5th, 1974
the morgue, st. mungos

"Hmmm..."

She'd made the same sound from her sitting position multiple times now, having been there for twenty minutes or so staring directly at the head of the dead man.

Her chin was propped up by her fist, which had her arm itself resting on the meat of her thigh from the planting of her elbow. Her legs were crossed over as her shoulders hunched over, her shadow silhouette looming over the top of the laying, still body. The more she stared, the more she thought, and the more she thought, the more frustrated she became.

"So, his heart gives out at midnight, on New Years. Could be the fireworks, the alcohol, the fact that he's fifty something and bloviated. I can feel how heavy his cheeks are. And yet, the family really believes there must be some foul play even though all of the lab work, magical and non, ruled out any poisons, potions, or the like."

Summarizing the entirety of it, Syd finally stood and walked around the prone body. It wasn't in their agency to just deny money, even if they made it clear that they might not come up to any real conclusion and they took all of their fees upfront. But, not for the first time, the witch felt truly out of her depth.

It was in those moments where she pushed forward and tried to think outside the box, refusing to accept all the appropriate evidence, as she'd been taught to do.

"If it was going to be foul play, then it might be something magical at play. Something that couldn't be caught in nature. But the curse breaker in charge also cleared any spells being used and wands were checked at the scene by aurors. And it's not like a basilisk just waltzed in, gave Mr. McCleary the ol' stink eye and left."

Her hand moved against to her chin, rubbing at it, continuing to think this aloud. Though, not entirely to herself.

"What's the mortician's take? If you've got one, cherub?" Sydney looked towards the woman she shared the room with; someone likely low on the totem pole here to waste her time along with Syd's.

Except, the face looking back was the same one laying down, dead. Syd had metamorphed into the dead person when she had sat down to start her investigation. It helped her "process".

[Theodosia Finch]

Theda watched Sydney wide-eyed in some sort of sick fascination.

She knew metamorphmaguses... metamorphmagi? Whatever. She knew they existed and had been at school with one even. This, however, was less about the transformation and more about exactly who she had transformed into.

Theda was not used to seeing her patients moving, talking, breathing. It was an incredibly rare occasion for her to meet a decedent before they passed. This, however, was even more bizarre, considering the deceased was lying lifeless on a cold metal slab right next to them.

This was awesome.

However, Theda had to contain her amusement. It wasn't appropriate, even if Sydney wasn't a friend or family member of the dead man.

"What's the mortician's take? If you've got one, cherub?"

"Well, I did the autopsy." She was under supervision as she was just a Junior Healer, but she kept that bit to herself for now. "And it certainly appears to be a heart attack. He most definitely had a history of high blood pressure and heart disease. I mean, you should have seen his heart. It was huge. Normal is between 280 and 340 grams, and his was nearly 700 grams."

Theda used her hands to demonstrate the size of a normal heart, expanding when she stated how big his heart was. She was almost tempted to show the photos, but normal people usually didn't like that, and she was a bit too enthusiastic anyway, so she toned it down.

"Everything else came back as it should. Nothing that appears suspicious, at least," she rocked on her feet. "I mean, his family is clearly in shock; this was all very sudden. But, I don't want to miss something."

She softened a bit. Having spent her life around grieving families and then suddenly losing her own father, she understood what it was like to have to process such a shocking event. However, sometimes intuition is important. She didn't want to dismiss these concerns without evaluating every option.

"Do you think he could have, like, touched something cursed? Or could he have been exposed to something earlier? I'm not really an expert on things that can expertly mimic a heart attack, but I'm sure they exist."

[Sydney Lamont]

"Well, I did the autopsy."

"Oooo, fancy that," she teased, a light chortle escaping her flabby cheeks in a way that must have been terribly off-putting when her tone matched the face of the person she has transformed into. Syd hadn't bothered to alter her voice, given that she wasn't trying to imitate the deceased completely. As she listened through the explanation, confused by the medical terminology but getting the gist, she stared back at the dead body, trying to think.

"Everything else came back as it should. Nothing that appears suspicious, at least–"

"That heart must have been something to see. Where exactly did you cut to get a good look at it?" The body was in a body bag, zipped up to only reveal the head. Syd imagined they'd already dug into it in any way they were allowed to.

"Did you hold it? And you said it was more than twice the size of a normal heart? Have you ever seen that before? Anything that large?" Her mind was whirling, tossing out the obvious connection of dots and trying to gain a wider perspective that wouldn't tie everything up in the neat bow whoever might have committed a crime wanted.

"Because the man's wife," third wife, to be exact. One that hadn't signed a prenuptial agreement and stood to have much of the fortune given to her, although there would be much litigation when it came to dividing wealth of that amount.

"–said she'd been monitoring his health and that he was getting more active. And his medical records, the most recent ones, did show that his blood pressure had at least remained consistent, if slightly lower. I'm not sure if that would matter with heart size if he's been more active, been eating healthier, etcetera." All the medical records before that did show a man that was not in the best of health. This hadn't been the first heart episode he'd had. She wondered what they had estimated the size of the heart to have been then.

"Do you think he could have, like, touched something cursed? Or could he have been exposed to something earlier? I'm not really an expert on things that can expertly mimic a heart attack, but I'm sure they exist."

"If there was, there were curse-breakers on the scene. People that ruled out any magical foul play and dark magic. Unless it wasn't dark magic," and she paused, rubbing her meaty chin with sausage fingers. But what would be able to cause such a thing? Or enlarge a heart, if that was even possible.

"Am I dumb to think someone might have altered the size of his heart? Or should we just rule that out altogether?" Considering that any sort of magical alteration wouldn't have been able to solely affect the heart. Especially without pinpointing it directly. She'd never heard of such a thing.

"And they were able to rule out potions, poisons, the like," Syd stood up, hands holding her knees steady, as she finally decided to revert back to her original form. She could feel herself shrinking into the loosening clothes and, in a blink, they were fitting her like loose bedsheets and one hand gripped her pants to keep them from falling to her feet. Brandishing her wand, the witch minimized the dressy get-up so that it fit her snuggly; black slacks and a button-up white long sleeve shirt. Adjusting the neck and putting her wand away, she looked back at the mortician with a wink.

Most people winced at the sight of her transformation. They figured it must be painful, even though it came as easily as focused breathing.

"An at-risk man dying from fireworks? His heart finally giving out, when he had plenty of enemies and was now on the losing side of the political world? It just feels too clean to be this simple."