Arriving on the scene to a crowd

I take note of the body’s secrets

A bruise on the neck and throat

Hands and feet bound by rope

A single strand of hair is found

It’s stuck under a fingernail

The crime scene techs bag the hair

As I happened to see another thing

Blood was on the feet, the bottoms

I had the techs swab them both

As I waited not so patiently

I finally got the call

I headed to the suspect’s house

Finally firm in evidence’s grasp

We sit in a room facing one another

And I let them know they’re caught

I look them in the eye and say

Even the dead tell stories