A study in fuschia

It was on a cold November night that i found myself, Dr. John Sexy, in a carriage with my colleague Sam L. Jones, the most notable detective of our times. He had received a wire from a mysterious source late in the evening and proceeded to wake me from my doze in front of the fire to fetch us a cab and make our way to a house on the outskirts of the city of Dundee.

It wasn't until halfway through our journey that he moved from his position of staring out of the window in a look i knew was one he used when working over complex problems in his brain. "The facts, Doctor, are these," he said in a calm monotone voice, "This evening i received a wire from a Ms Dulcie Craddock of El Balcone, a country house a mile outside the city, she asked for my services in a terrible matter, a murder has taken place and the local constables have no clue how to act and it would take a week or more for a Scotland Yard boy to arrive and the trail will be cold by then, so she has sent word to all the local experts asking for assistance in the matter."
"Well," I said, "you'll have a clear run at this one old boy, no interference from outside sources then."
"Indeed, this should turn out to be perhaps my most easiest case to date." replied Jones.

It was a little over half an hour before we arrived at the house where upon entering the building we were shown into the parlour. There sitting at the table was our host Ms Craddock, it was Jones who spoke first, "Greetings Ms Craddock, I'm Sam L. Jones and this is my companion Doctor John Sexy."
"How do you do?" I added.
Jones continued "We apologise for the lateness of our arrival but we just received your wire this very evening and sought to head over as soon as possible."
"No need for apologies gentlemen i am glad you responded so speedily to my request," Ms Craddock said, "I hope you could be of assistance in the matter as it would take an age for a Scotland Yard detective to arrive and i fear by then it might be too late."
"Don't worry," I said, "Mr Jones here is the finest detective in all of Scotland he can, I'm sure, easily sort out the problem at hand."
"I think," said Jones tentatively, "that we should start out with you telling us the events that lead up to and including the murder that took place here."
"Very well," Said Ms Craddock, "I shall get my butler Jack to bring down the other detective and then tell you all the events that took place."
"The other detective?!" I remarked.
"Yes, he arrived about a half hour before you did," said Ms. Craddock, "strangest thing barged right in, said he would solve it and without another word went to look for clues upstairs.... Ah here he is, what did you say your name was again sir?"
Behind us the double doors leading into the parlour had burst open and in walk a man of short stature with a bemused look upon his face, "Why, I'm Homer, Detective Homer."

To be continued.