A crime was committed at baker street. Ibrahim Dakota who was shot in the stomach was the main suspect. Sherlock questioned the suspect. The conversation started as:
Sherlock: What's your story, Ibrahim?
Ibrahim: I was walking around baker street and suddenly a man from the back shot me. I ran as fast as I could to save my life".
Sherlock: That is enough (and ask the police to arrest him).
A man plots the murder of his wife. His plan is full proof. Nobody saw them leaving their house. He stabbed her with a knife while driving. She died on the spot. He threw her body in a valley. He threw the knife carefully wiping his finger prints on a random garbage bin. Then he went back to his home and no one was watching him this time as well.
After an hour, he was called by the local police department who informed him that his wife was murdered. They asked him to reach the scene of crime immediately. But as soon as he arrived at the crime scene, he was arrested by them.
How did the police know that he himself is the murderer?
Here is what you have to do. You have to throw a ball as hard as you can but it must return back to you even if it does not bounce at anything. Also, you have nothing attached to the ball. There is no one on the other end to catch that ball and throw it back at you.
A man is shown a portrait painting. He looks closely, then tells, “Brothers and sisters have I none, but that man’s father is my father’s son!†Who is the man in the portrait?
I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird, flying even to the clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me, even though there is no cause for grief, and at once on my birth, I am dissolved into air. What am I?
