It was one of those nights where something was bound to happen. Fog spread across the city, darkness fell surprisingly early, and rain beat against the windows mercilessly. Detective Jim Halpert found it difficult to sleep that night. He was uneasy, almost waiting for his phone to ring. And when it did, at 2:43am, it took him only 10 minutes to be in a cab and on the way to the crime scene.
The rain trickled through the cracks of the cobblestone road, creating pools of water in the large crevices. The thin tires of the automobiles stuck on the road wobbled unsteadily on the slippery pavement.
"Don't know why you'd want to be out on a night like this." The driver shivered, shaking his head at Jim. "Not a good night for driving, that's for sure.
"Business," the detective said breifly, looking out the window. "Here's the place."
The driver swung the cab over to the side of the road.
"Hello, detective." A policeman shone a bright light through the window of Jim's cab, shaking his hand as he stepped outside. "We've got a--"
"Suspected homicide, they explained on the telephone." Jim Halpert was not one to waste words. He followed the constable down a dark alleyway. "And this is where you..."
"Found him? Yes." He motioned towards the group of people gathered around a taped off area. On the ground was a chalk drawing of a human outline. Jim swallowed, and the policeman gave him a quick nod before turning on his heel and walking away. "Feel free to look around."
"Constable."
"Yes?" He looked back.
"My assistant--?"
"Will be here shortly, Halpert."
"Thank you."
He watched from the sidelines as a group of people hoisted the body onto a feeble stretcher. He got a short glimpse of the face-- young, thin, dark hair-- before a sheet covered it and the stretcher was pushed away. Jim walked over to a small box left by the taped off area he knew would hold the victim's belongings that the policeman had pulled from his body. A faded brown wallet caught his attention, and he picked it up.
Jim flipped through the wallet quickly. Everything seemed to be normal... Some cash, a road map of the area (no marked destinations), a hotel key, and...
He snapped open the bottom half of the wallet and reached into a hidden side pocket, to find a folded sheet of paper. Unfolding it carefully, he held it to the light to read the simple handwriting.
Anderson Automobiles
The detective frowned at the writing, a cold feeling washing over him. But he didn't have time to revel in it long before a policeman walked over, hands behind his back. Jim quickly slipped the paper back into the wallet and shut it.
"We're going to go back to the station, Halpert." He glanced at the wallet in Jim's hand. "If that's of any use..."
"Yes, thank you." Jim's eyes scanned the alleyway. He noticed an old man, leaning near the brick wall and fumbling with a pack of matches.
The policeman followed his gaze and nodded. "Ah. That's the landlord of this building. He was one of the first on the scene. We were going to--"
"I'll talk to him," Jim said shortly. "And... that should be it. Thank you for calling me."
He shook the policeman's hand and watched him walk down the alleyway, swallowed by the fog of the night. Not to waste any time, he turned on his heel and approached the landlord.
The man's hand was shaking slightly as he tried to light a cigarette. He put it between his lips, took a puff, and glanced over at Jim nervously. "Hello, detective. See anything that might prove helpful?"
"Maybe, maybe not." Jim held took off his hat and placed it on a nearby fence pool, stepping forward towards the old man. "Detective Halpert."
They shook hands. "Duncan Mifflin. I'm the--"
"Landlord. So I hear." Jim put the piece of paper carefully back in the wallet. "Did you know this man?
"No." He shook his head earnestly. "Never seen him before in my life, don't know why he was--"
"He appears to be from out of town. Map... key to a hotel I'm going to have to track down."
"Oh."
Jim took another look at the small area outlined by crime tape. "Don't you have a better reason for coming out here at 3 o'clock in the morning other than the strong desire to have a smoke, Mr Mifflin?"
Mifflin ran a hand through his hair in a harrassed sort of way. "No, I... I mean, if you're implying that I-- I mean I'm just out here for a smoke, I don't sleep well, and--"
The clicking sound of short high heeled boots echoed through the damp alleyway and interrupted their conversation. That old "return to the scene of the crime" adage seemed to run through Mifflin's mind in a flash, and glanced at the detective with wide eyes. Jim quickly stuffed the wallet into his pocket and looked up at the approaching figure.
"My assistant," he explained.
The dim yellow light of the abandoned apartment balcony two stories up illuminated her as she stood in front of the crime tape. Her hair was perfectly curled up in a smooth bun under her low brimmed hat. She was wearing a black peacoat, tied neatly at her waist. Placing a small gloved hand on her hip, she swept her eyes over the scene in front of her and reached into her pocket. With expert ease, she pulled out a small notebook and flipped it to the first page.
"Gentlemen," she offered as a simple greeting, licking the ink nub of the pen.
Jim cleared his throat again, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked over to her. "Miss Beesley... could I speak with you for a moment?"
She nodded quickly and the two of them made their way to the corner. Jim placed a hand on the small of her back and glanced quickly over at Mifflin, who was staring decidedly at the ground.
"We have a murder case on our hands," he whispered softly to her.
She nodded again, making a quick note of it, her pen scratching sharply against the paper. "Do you--"
"Suspects? Not that I--"
"So this guy--"
"Unlucky witness."
"Got it. Anything else?" She looked up at him, her eyes bright and brimming with excitement, but her lips pressed together in a decidedly serious line. He swallowed and looked away.
"I'm going to head over to the office, look over some of this stuff." His hand started to move to his pocket, then fell back to his side quickly. "But listen, Beesley... you should head back home, get some sleep, and tomorrow--"
"Halpert," she interrupted with a smile. "I'm coming with you."
He paused, then moistened his lips, his tongue darting out quickly. "Well. I know when it gets late, he... can be a bit--"
"That doesn't matter. I'm here-- with you-- for this."
He stared at her for a moment, then lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug, a smile creeping onto his face for the first time that night. "Alright, then."
They took down Mifflin's information and let him get back to his apartment, with a slight reluctance on Pam Beesley's behalf. She watched him disappear into the night with a sigh.
"It's fine," Jim said, looking down at her. "We'll keep a close watch on him."
"But how do you know, Detective?" She looked up at him. "I mean, how can you be sure?"
Halpert grabbed his hat from the fence pool and placed it on his head, pulling the rim over his eye. "Instinct, Beesley. When you've been in this business long enough, that's all you have left to rely on."
Author's Chapter Notes:
This was really fun to write. I love doing old school detective style type things. I tried to model it in a "film noir" sort of style. Plus, I think brisk Detective!Jim is droolworthy.
Hope you like.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Hope you like.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
