But first…
Dulltown, UK: Today’s lost plectrum is the one eventually found under a fluffy rug in Her Majesty’s sitting room.
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Dear reader, I hope you don’t find these TV forensics show posts annoying, but they are quite easy for me to do – they don’t require too much thinking or concentration – it’s just a matter of pausing for a second or two in between blues guitar riffs, reaching out for a pen and jotting down a couple of lines of voice-over, and then resuming the twanging.
Guitars, acoustic or electric, are excellent instruments to have as a faithful and undemanding pal to watch TV with – imagine trying to do that sitting there with a heavy noisy saxophone, or a bloody trumpet?
Hm… I keep playing this same Magic Sam riff over and over – it is so very catchy, and it is not too difficult to play – mind you, you have to make a good job of those hammered on trills before you go to the subdominant…
Hang on a minute, the cops have just spotted the perp driving the victim’s car!… See, look, they are pulling him over, and stepping out of their… I wonder if he’ll…?
It was now officially a crime scene – those prints on the rubbish bag – it looks like he was manually drug across the bathroom floor (note ‘drug’, the US version of ‘dragged’) – no prints – a search warrant – the perfect opportunity – in disarray – a renown forensic scientist – now searching the lake – on the upper surfaces of the metal – they now had to work backwards – it was almost ready to go to court – a dreary cold day – then it was the blood spatter expert – until he remarried – step by step – lost his temper – a cast of shady characters – this quiet suburban home – names have been changed – signs of a struggle – a fresh knife strike – no signs of remorse – he was very convincing with his answers – but thirty-five to life, in the end…
Dave Whatt 