Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

Once again, we rejoin our friends jenne and ceayr for a go at finding the most important 250 words hidden in la fotografía.

If’n you like wordage and fun, you owe it to yourself to head over to the très avant-gardiste bloghop, the Unicorn Challenge. (Tell ’em, ‘the Doctrine sent ya’)

“That’s strange,” Anton Rilke pushed back from his new desk, which given his considerable girth was more than a slight adjustment from the monitor. The new head of Interpol’s Human-trafficking, Drug-interdiction and War crimes bureau, made reaching out to the police departments in his jurisdiction a priority.

“What’s that Detective-Capitán?” Inspector-Jefe Carlos Delgado, eager to get a sense of the man, ignored the cultural and political barriers that impeded law enforcement in 21st Century Iberia.

“Your latest kidnapping,” the face of Inspector Delgado shrank to a thumbnail as a black purse, lying on the sidewalk at the top of a alley-staircase filled the screen, “I’ve a flag on the DNA your most fastidious patrolman collected on the scene.”

Appreciating the left-handed compliment, Carlos smiled, “What do you mean?”

“Although no help identifying the kidnappers, it links the owner of the purse and the young girl who went missing last month near this location are blood relatives, mother/daughter in fact.”

“Then you’re going to find our medical examiner’s report on the body of one of the two Alphonso brothers that was found floating in the harbor this morning most fascinating,” the detective paused as he watched Detective Rilke glance at what were surely other monitors on his desk, mutter something in German and raise a bushy-white eyebrow.

“Am I correct, Senor Delgado, there is a match between the DNA on the purse and a blood sample on the late, and apparently quite tortured, Nico Alphonso?”