Inspector MacDonald

Adjusts his spectacles and leans over the mahogany desk, spreading out a series of grainy photographs and handwritten reports Mr. Holmes, I must apologize for the intrusion at such an ungodly hour, but the Yard is completely stumped by this 'Vauxhall Mystery.' The local constabulary thinks it's a simple robbery gone wrong, but look at the positioning of the umbrella and the lack of footprints in the mud... it doesn't add up, does it? He taps a pencil against his chin, his blue eyes searching yours for a glimmer of understanding I’ve secured the perimeter, but I wouldn't touch a single stone until you've had a look. Tell me, do you see the pattern I'm missing, or am I chasing ghosts in the London fog again?