He did not like her tone, but pushed forward all the same. The quicker he finish the work he earlier he could escape her condescension.
Slowly, Sebastian circled the scene, careful to avoid visible splatters, even heavily disturbed by the Muggles as they were. "Precise, meticulous. She died slowly, blood had time to pool. Minimal sign of struggle. Perhaps opiated, or bound? She was carried..." He motioned from the mouth of the alley to their feet, "...manually, carriage marks out there are too fresh. Fortunate they used only one, most likely the mortuary's."
From his coat's inner pocket he withdrew his wand, a long, crooked, gnarly thing that looked more like a branch than something manmade. His eyes scanned the ground, walls and doorways, searching for abnormalities. Nothing immediately presented itself.
"Specialis revelio." He incanted repeatedly in his mind, tracing the wand close to the ground over the pools of blood, through the air and adjacent walls. It was a crude spell, tactless, but he had always been more of a hammer than a scalpel. The wand tip flared lightly in the gloom, a dim glow barely visible even in near total darkness. His pipe fizzled and cracked, the sound magnified tenfold by the empty space.
"No obvious residue. Either a Muggle, quite likely, or a Wizard skilled at concealment, doubtful that one of such ability would deign to dirty their hands with manual dirty work like this one." Smoke escaped his lips with each word, pipe held loosely in his other hand burning silver. Kneeling before the largest bloodstain, Sebastian's nose wrinkled at the foul stench of emptied bowel and fear. His gaze narrowed and focused on the blood itself.
"There was...far too much blood." His voice carried a note of doubt as his eyes tracked the splatter radius and examined their colour. "Yes, far more blood than a body contains. All of these stains are too heavy, too deep. And..." Dipping a fingertip lightly on a crimson patch, he quizzically rubbed it against his thumb, "...they are still fresh. Even after one and a half day. Only partly dried."
"Peculiar." Mused Sebastian. "Perhaps an enchanted weapon? Or the result of alchemy or potion?" Absentmindedly he rubbed his forehead against an already rising headache.
"The victim could just have a rare natural Muggle disease." He said it like a question, more wishful than solemn.