Back in the day, before everything got weird (and I mean everything: aliens, magic, monsters, people getting random super powers, and all the scientists trying to see who can make the flashiest gizmo) people used to write and read cheap books and comics about detectives in this kind of kooky world. Private eyes with some kind of skill or gritty disposition that allowed them to have the weird stuff in their story. Detective wizards. Detectives with psychic powers. Detectives who could talk to the dead, see the future or shoot lasers out of their fingers.
Some were just tough enough to grit through pain and injury and catch
the bad guy.
My name is Leo. I’ll give you the rest of my name when I know you better. You can probably guess after such a long list that I’m not one of these detectives. Good guess. Right on the money. In this kooky world, there are a lot of detectives and PI’s like that, but I’m not one of the ones with special powers, skills, or guts. I’ll even admit that I’m not overly smart. No one is comparing me to any Homelock Shears or Miss Mapple any time soon. But I do have one special trait that makes people drop their problems on my desk. I’m Cheap. You got a question or suspicion, but don’t want to (or can’t) shell out the cash to these other guys, you come see me and I’ll see what I can do.
No Refunds.
So, when I was looking down at a body with its melon exploded all over the street I knew this was going to end badly.
Usually my service, at its most honest, involves me looking at someone’s problem and then giving that person the name of the PI they should have talked to in the first place. Now for this, I charge a small consulting fee (the way Lucy charges Charlie Brown a nickel), and then I make sure they go to the right guy for the job. If they can’t afford the other guy, I’ll tell them honestly, they either need to give up, or go to church and pray the police will take care of it.
Looking at the head chunks on the street being washed into the drain by pouring rain, while spiffy CSI’s tried to catch ‘em before they disappeared, I knew this was going to be one of those times.
I was here because a kid had come into my office worried about her friend and offered me what may have as well been a piggy bank full of change. Now she wasn’t exactly little Suzzy pulling a little red wagon behind her, but she couldn’t have been older than a freshman in high school at most. Not the kind of girl who has her own money ready to spend. Meaning I was all that was available. After checking to make sure that the kid hadn’t forgotten that her friend wasn’t overreacting or playing a joke, I agreed to look into it. The girl gives me a photo to work with and once she’s out of my office (after my usual schpeal about no guarantees and no refunds) I make my usual calls to see if anyone has seen a girl matching the description. It’s my bum luck that a minute later my guy with the police scanner tells me I should check out the street corner by this trendy coffee shop. Once I saw all the yellow tape, I knew this was out of my league.
In this world, there are a lot of things that can mess you up and a lot of things that can explode your head. None of the ones I could think of were worth what a kid could pay me to get involved. But hey, I’m not completely heartless. The least I could do was check if the cops were on the case, offer my little bit of info, and tell the kid honestly that the police were handling it. She did the best she could and was a good friend.
So, I made my way over to a CSI I was acquainted with.
“What’ve you got, Jay?”
“Hey Leo, what are you doing here?”
“Finding the end of a very short investigation, a kid asked me to look for her friend. Unfortunately, the description matches your victim there.”
“Poor kid.”
“Yeah, what does it look like to you?”
“The pattern,” he said grimly “doesn’t indicate any kind of projectile (material or energy). Arcane sweep is clean so far. There is lingering psychic energy but levels are too weak to account for this type of damage. Will need to do more lab work to know for sure, but it looks like the kid was developing a variance power and didn’t want it recorded or to be around anyone who knew her when it came in.”
“So another “Dodger” who didn’t get help?’
“Been a lot more since that news feed of a possible data hack on the clinic downtown.” “I bet. Thanks anyway, Jay. Expect the kid to start asking for details. I’ll try to warn against it, but she seemed one of those curious types.”
“Will do, Leo. Take care.”
“You too Jay.”
That was that. Open and shut. A harsh reality for a kid’s birthday money. But now she’d have closure. I’d get a bite before I sent the Email notification with the info of where she could find the police report
when it was done.
I was thankful for the rain now. It had washed away most of the blood and brain matter smell, so it hadn’t completely turned my stomach. But I still wanted something to get the bad taste out of my mouth. A burger for lunch then. My bad mood warranted a slight splurge a four dollar combo with free refills. Hopefully, some cola with lime would cover the taste. All to be paid with some crumpled small bills and change from the ashtray in the car.
But first, it was back to the office. Picking up the mail pile under the drop slot on my way in, I noticed a weighty envelope mixed in with the usual mail. After tearing it open with my pocket knife, I saw it contained a nice thick stack of cash, with a note.
“Thank you for your time and care of my daughter’s request. If you can offer conclusive closure, you need not trouble yourself with this matter any further. Accept this gratuity as an indication that the matter is closed.
Signed Mrs. So & So.
I’m not too proud to admit that I took this suspicious cash straight to the bank, and once they determined it was clean (and real) I deposited it straight into my account. And then washed my hands with my special cleanser blend (a precaution I learned from the wizard detective) in the nearest public restroom. Maybe, that was a bit paranoid, but when you know all the ways that some people in the city can tag and keep tabs on a person, it pays to be cautious. Even cleanser on top of gloves cautions.
Someone, obviously not Mrs. So & So, wanted me to close the case, not kick it up the line like I usually do. Meaning there was something more than the apparent death of an emerging variant that didn’t trust the clinic’s security or ability. Which also meant that I should assume I was being watched. I had to kick that first… For the moment I couldn’t make any moves too far out of the norm for me.
To the burger then.