The Write Place: Something, Anything
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New York was an entirely different city from Chicago. The first thing Murphy noticed was the lack of alleyways between buildings. There were some, here and there, but most buildings in New York were squeezed in wall to wall. There were more people too or maybe it just seemed like more people, crammed onto small sidewalks and buses and subways. Only the Mile and State street really got crowded in Chicago. It should have reminded her of home, instead it just made her miss the North side and its easily walk-able streets.
Even at night, the sidewalks always had people on them. Most of them weren’t the normal type of tourist seeing the sights or locals on their way to work. Those who walked New York had night had a distinct unease about them. Walking with them, her hands in her pockets, Murphy watched for any sign that tension was going to snap.
She should have been in her hotel, sleeping. She had a sting to plan with the gang unit, lab results to check up on and second interviews to conduction in the morning, but insomnia was nagging her every step. Robert-slash-Vincent was haunting her thoughts. He’d been quiet far too long in her opinion. Something should have happened by now, another girl should have turned up or he should have contacted her. When he was out killing and torturing, she knew what to do. When he was quiet, she got nervous because it meant he was planning something.
Since she couldn’t sleep, she worked. She was once again, trolling the industrial park near where Robert’s latest victim had been found. They hadn’t found a primary crime scene, even though she and Taylor had gone through the place. Her gut told her it was here though. It wasn’t the scientific proof that Taylor always wanted, so in Murphy’s world it meant she had to find it. Finding it meant late nights walking through empty buildings in the hope of finding something.
She picked one at random and left the sidewalk. Pushing open the door she looked inside at a wall of gloomy black and then stepped inside. Broken dry wall crack under her feet as Murphy swept her flashlight back and forth across the gloomy interior. The abandoned warehouse was falling apart almost every inch coated in graffiti and it didn’t smell too good either. Poverty had a smell, just like death, grief and illness and this place reached of the homeless and junkies.
“Police!” she yelled, unclipping her holster. It always went smoother when she announced herself. Any hiding junkies got a chance to run and patrolling security wouldn’t call the cops on her.
One hand on her holster, one holding the flashlight she stepped further into the warehouse searching for something, blood spatter or a sign Robert had been there. Something, anything at this point to tell her she was on the right track. Something clattered to her left and she swung around, gun drawn.
“’ey, I ain’t done nothin’!” A bum covered his eyes with his hands and scrambled back into his corner.
“How long have you been here?” she demanded, lowering her weapon.
“It’s my corner, I’ve been here forever.”
“Are you here all the time?” She pressed, closing some of the distance between them.
“’Cept when I go to the Mission. Gotta eat, you know.” The bum hunched his shoulders and drew the thin blanket around his shoulders. “Ain’t got a fancy job like yours. Ain’t givin’ the government none of my money.”
“How about I give you some of the government’s money?” She changed tactics, reaching for her wallet. “You answer my questions and you’ll get to cheat the man out of his taxes.”
She held up a five, not the biggest bill she was carrying, but this was a shot in the dark. She only had a gut feeling that this was a place Robert would use. She might have been working with science crazy CSIs, but she knew a cop’s instincts were just as valuable as a scientist’s tests.
“You the police, you are the man, even if you got tits.”
“Then you’re taking the money right from the source aren’t you?” She offered him the five, one eyebrow raised. “Just a few questions. If I like what you’ve got, I’ll throw in one of the twenties I’ve got.”
He snatched the bill out of her hand faster than she expected. Bum or not, the man had moves.
“You ever see this girl around here?” She held out a picture of the victim, shinning her flashlight on it so he could see.
“I was goin’ to the mission, she was walkin’ with this guy.”
“This guy?” She switched pictured, this time holding out one of Robert.
“Don’t know, guy had a hood on. It was fuckin’ cold. Fuckin’ cold now.”
She scowled, “When you got back, you notice anything wrong? You’ve been here forever, you must know this place inside and out.”
“Someone cleaned,” the bum sneered the word and pointed to the far side of the warehouse. “Made themselves a nice little spot to lie down, but I fixed it. My place, ain’t sharin’ it with no one.”
An uncomfortable feeling settled in the bit of her stomach and she started towards the space he indicated, sweeping her flashlight back and forth across the ground. Maybe it was just another bum trying to find a place for the night, but her gut said otherwise.
At the edges, she stopped and started a much slower scan. She didn’t have any fancy forensic tools, but she had eyes. She wished for Kirmani’s eagle eyes, though. Her partner could pick up the littlest details when he focused.
“Hey! What about my twenty?”
She stalked around the edges, taking her time, waiting for… something, anything. She was on loan and without something more she’d be sent back. She needed something, anything, so she could stay close to the case and Robert. This was the case she had come here to work.
“Fuckin’ police, can’t even trust ‘em when they’ve got tits.”
She glared at the floor for a second before ducking down, tugging a glove off as she went. She pulled out a rubber glove from her jacket pocked and picked up a broken piece of dry wall. It looked inconspicuous enough, just like every other piece on the ground, except when she flipped it over. The entire back was dotted with blood spatter.
She set the piece back down and started flipping over others. Most came up empty, but there were a few with the same trace, enough that she didn’t think it was just a coincidence. Her smile was grim as she stood back up and stepped back.
“Found you,” she murmured under her breath, then reached for her cell phone to call it in.
[ooc: Robert (animus_nocendi) and Mac Taylor doesntrush_sci mentioned with permission]
New York was an entirely different city from Chicago. The first thing Murphy noticed was the lack of alleyways between buildings. There were some, here and there, but most buildings in New York were squeezed in wall to wall. There were more people too or maybe it just seemed like more people, crammed onto small sidewalks and buses and subways. Only the Mile and State street really got crowded in Chicago. It should have reminded her of home, instead it just made her miss the North side and its easily walk-able streets.
Even at night, the sidewalks always had people on them. Most of them weren’t the normal type of tourist seeing the sights or locals on their way to work. Those who walked New York had night had a distinct unease about them. Walking with them, her hands in her pockets, Murphy watched for any sign that tension was going to snap.
She should have been in her hotel, sleeping. She had a sting to plan with the gang unit, lab results to check up on and second interviews to conduction in the morning, but insomnia was nagging her every step. Robert-slash-Vincent was haunting her thoughts. He’d been quiet far too long in her opinion. Something should have happened by now, another girl should have turned up or he should have contacted her. When he was out killing and torturing, she knew what to do. When he was quiet, she got nervous because it meant he was planning something.
Since she couldn’t sleep, she worked. She was once again, trolling the industrial park near where Robert’s latest victim had been found. They hadn’t found a primary crime scene, even though she and Taylor had gone through the place. Her gut told her it was here though. It wasn’t the scientific proof that Taylor always wanted, so in Murphy’s world it meant she had to find it. Finding it meant late nights walking through empty buildings in the hope of finding something.
She picked one at random and left the sidewalk. Pushing open the door she looked inside at a wall of gloomy black and then stepped inside. Broken dry wall crack under her feet as Murphy swept her flashlight back and forth across the gloomy interior. The abandoned warehouse was falling apart almost every inch coated in graffiti and it didn’t smell too good either. Poverty had a smell, just like death, grief and illness and this place reached of the homeless and junkies.
“Police!” she yelled, unclipping her holster. It always went smoother when she announced herself. Any hiding junkies got a chance to run and patrolling security wouldn’t call the cops on her.
One hand on her holster, one holding the flashlight she stepped further into the warehouse searching for something, blood spatter or a sign Robert had been there. Something, anything at this point to tell her she was on the right track. Something clattered to her left and she swung around, gun drawn.
“’ey, I ain’t done nothin’!” A bum covered his eyes with his hands and scrambled back into his corner.
“How long have you been here?” she demanded, lowering her weapon.
“It’s my corner, I’ve been here forever.”
“Are you here all the time?” She pressed, closing some of the distance between them.
“’Cept when I go to the Mission. Gotta eat, you know.” The bum hunched his shoulders and drew the thin blanket around his shoulders. “Ain’t got a fancy job like yours. Ain’t givin’ the government none of my money.”
“How about I give you some of the government’s money?” She changed tactics, reaching for her wallet. “You answer my questions and you’ll get to cheat the man out of his taxes.”
She held up a five, not the biggest bill she was carrying, but this was a shot in the dark. She only had a gut feeling that this was a place Robert would use. She might have been working with science crazy CSIs, but she knew a cop’s instincts were just as valuable as a scientist’s tests.
“You the police, you are the man, even if you got tits.”
“Then you’re taking the money right from the source aren’t you?” She offered him the five, one eyebrow raised. “Just a few questions. If I like what you’ve got, I’ll throw in one of the twenties I’ve got.”
He snatched the bill out of her hand faster than she expected. Bum or not, the man had moves.
“You ever see this girl around here?” She held out a picture of the victim, shinning her flashlight on it so he could see.
“I was goin’ to the mission, she was walkin’ with this guy.”
“This guy?” She switched pictured, this time holding out one of Robert.
“Don’t know, guy had a hood on. It was fuckin’ cold. Fuckin’ cold now.”
She scowled, “When you got back, you notice anything wrong? You’ve been here forever, you must know this place inside and out.”
“Someone cleaned,” the bum sneered the word and pointed to the far side of the warehouse. “Made themselves a nice little spot to lie down, but I fixed it. My place, ain’t sharin’ it with no one.”
An uncomfortable feeling settled in the bit of her stomach and she started towards the space he indicated, sweeping her flashlight back and forth across the ground. Maybe it was just another bum trying to find a place for the night, but her gut said otherwise.
At the edges, she stopped and started a much slower scan. She didn’t have any fancy forensic tools, but she had eyes. She wished for Kirmani’s eagle eyes, though. Her partner could pick up the littlest details when he focused.
“Hey! What about my twenty?”
She stalked around the edges, taking her time, waiting for… something, anything. She was on loan and without something more she’d be sent back. She needed something, anything, so she could stay close to the case and Robert. This was the case she had come here to work.
“Fuckin’ police, can’t even trust ‘em when they’ve got tits.”
She glared at the floor for a second before ducking down, tugging a glove off as she went. She pulled out a rubber glove from her jacket pocked and picked up a broken piece of dry wall. It looked inconspicuous enough, just like every other piece on the ground, except when she flipped it over. The entire back was dotted with blood spatter.
She set the piece back down and started flipping over others. Most came up empty, but there were a few with the same trace, enough that she didn’t think it was just a coincidence. Her smile was grim as she stood back up and stepped back.
“Found you,” she murmured under her breath, then reached for her cell phone to call it in.
[ooc: Robert (animus_nocendi) and Mac Taylor doesntrush_sci mentioned with permission]