Walk for Glory

The arrival of the police occurred much faster than one might expect, given the desolate location of the body, but a drunken hooker actually tripped over the man's body only two hours after he'd been murdered.  After picking his pockets clean, she managed to place a call from farther on down the street to the authorities.  At first it was only a squad car that showed up, then an unmarked, until finally the Violent Crimes Division's silver vehicle eased into the alleyway as the the first shades of gray cut through the smoggy sky.

Two men wordlessly exited the vehicle and pulled their coat collars up past theirs ears to ward off the chill.  Their eyes scanned the nearby structures, possibly appreciating the latest additions of graffiti, or possibly checking for snipers.  The first man to greet them was a rotund detective whose enormous ankles seemed poised to explode from the man's cheap shoes with every pronated step he took.

"Cheez Louise!  Real live Violent Crimes guys.  Cripes, I didn't even know you guys still existed!  You wanna see the body?"

The two men didn't respond, and suddenly the detective felt kind of dumb, "Yeah, well, of COURSE you guys want to see the body.  I mean, that's why you're here, right?  To see the body?"

The took his tie and dabbed at his forehead with it as he led the way, "Name's Roarke, by the way.  It's been quite a few years since I've seen a body like this.  He was... mangled I guess would be the right word, huh?  Right?  A detective for nearly thirty years, you'd think I'd be a little less squeamish, you know what I mean?  But it was a shock to see that poor shmo, you know?  Whew, what a bad way to start my day.  I can't remember the last time I heard of someone getting murdered -- especially like this.  Although in this neck of the woods I suppose there might still be some un-Amended people walking around.  That's a scary thought, huh?  Folks remaining in this world with no control over their emotions?"

The tubby Roarke shuddered, "Yikes!  Count me out.  I like living my life on an even keel.  Before I was Amended I used to be a nicotine-addicted alcoholic.  But no more.  Can you believe it?  How our lives used to be?  Huh?  I can't even imagine how someone could have thoughts like this."

He nodded over to the body, which was presently covered by a police tarp, and leaned his corpulent body against the quarter panel of the cruiser which had arrived to the scene first last night.  The front end sagged and the suspension squeaked in protest, but Roarke seemed not to notice.  Instead he blotted his forehead again with his tie and told the two Violent Crimes men, "I think I'll just wait here and let you two do your thing.  I've seen enough, if you know what I mean.  As it is, this thing'll give me nightmares 'til the snow flies."

The End

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