Post by Bucket on Nov 26, 2011 16:01:45 GMT -5
Chief Namira sighed heavily, dropping her head into her hands. She sat behind her desk with a heap of paperwork before her, most of it about drug pickups. The paperwork was her least favorite part of the job. Shrugging off the burden of paperwork for the moment, Christine stood and stretched, relishing the feeling of joints popping. The paperwork could wait for a moment. The influx of drug pickups was worrying her. New products were circulating the slums, and they were turning people into train wrecks, but somehow the department couldn't manage to gather any samples of what they were dealing with for the narcotics team. It was as if someone had just released a handful of needles into the hands of druggies and said "have at it".
Trying her hardest not to show her frustration and failing miserably, Christine made her way out of her office. The police station was bustling with activity. People were checking in and out, donuts and coffee traded hands, and stories were called between task force officers. The place looked peaceful enough, but Christine knew it was only the calm before the storm. If there were new drugs out and is such limited supply that the entire Plethora Police Department couldn't get a single sample then there was bound to be a murder soon. One druggie would turn on another, or two of the gangs would have a skirmish over territory. Either way, it was only a matter of time before a body turned up.
Christine's reverie was broken by a young officer that came up to her with a solute and a file. "You were right, ma'am," the young officer informed her, "a body turned up just this morning. Looks like it was a drug fight gone wrong, blunt force to the head. You might want to see this one yourself, Chief."
Christine responded with a nod and a quaint "Good work," before turning back to her office. She grabbed her police jacket from the doorside hanger before heading out to the front lobby. "Where's the detective on this case?" Chief Namira demanded, scanning the room for the tell-tale trench coat of an arrogant detective better at tracking down commission fees than actual criminals. Christine had a generally low opinion of the investigators, who had a tendency to be arrogant pricks.
Brandishing the case file she held in hand the Police Chief initiated the interrogation of a junior officer who claimed to have just returned from the scene with evidence. It was an ID on the victim, a Jonathan Wales with a past record with the department. "Who is this man, and why is he dead?" Christine demanded, flipping through the case file she had been threatening the junior officer with.
"It looks like a pretty standard mugging gone wrong so far Chief," the officer divulged, pointing out key facts in the case file, "The guy had some of the new stuff, and got in a fight about it. The detective is still at the scene, trying to find out more. Apparently the vic took a nasty knock to the head; laid him out flat. No wallet, but we got a hit on fingerprints. He's come in for drug-related stuff before, but never got himself caged. Guess he'll be in a wood cage now, eh Chief?" the officer jested, feeling a little bit tense in the commanding presence of Christine. He would never dream of calling her by her first name. He heard an office myth once that some guy had hit on her while in-duty and Chief Namira had put him in the holding cell for a whole day because of it. Everyone in the office had a crush on her power, but no one had the nerve to do anything about it.
Christine huffed at the bad joke, deciding to ignore it for now. "Do we have anything on the killer? Prints or DNA? I want this guy in before he uses up whatever he lifted from this Jonathan. The guys up in Narcotics need samples, and the killer has them right now. Get this guy in by nightfall, understood?" Christine ordered, meeting the officer's eyes dead on.
"Yes ma'am, Chief Namira," the officer barked out, eyes immediately dropping in submission, "We'll get this guy for you."
The officer then scooted by Christine, scurrying off to deliver his evidence to whoever he reported to. Quickly finishing her scan of the case file, which was pitifully short at the moment, Christine selected a random officer who was drinking coffee with two other cops to escort her to the scene, which was a few miles south of the department. "You,"[/color] she commanded, pointing at the officer, who immediately snapped to attention and nearly dropped his mug, "Come with me. We're going to go check out this murder."
Heading out the front door with the officer on her heels, Christine slipped into a squad car and shifted to reverse, throwing a look over her shoulder as she backed into the street. Maybe this will be our lucky break Chief Namira hoped as she drove south towards the scene of the crime.
Trying her hardest not to show her frustration and failing miserably, Christine made her way out of her office. The police station was bustling with activity. People were checking in and out, donuts and coffee traded hands, and stories were called between task force officers. The place looked peaceful enough, but Christine knew it was only the calm before the storm. If there were new drugs out and is such limited supply that the entire Plethora Police Department couldn't get a single sample then there was bound to be a murder soon. One druggie would turn on another, or two of the gangs would have a skirmish over territory. Either way, it was only a matter of time before a body turned up.
Christine's reverie was broken by a young officer that came up to her with a solute and a file. "You were right, ma'am," the young officer informed her, "a body turned up just this morning. Looks like it was a drug fight gone wrong, blunt force to the head. You might want to see this one yourself, Chief."
Christine responded with a nod and a quaint "Good work," before turning back to her office. She grabbed her police jacket from the doorside hanger before heading out to the front lobby. "Where's the detective on this case?" Chief Namira demanded, scanning the room for the tell-tale trench coat of an arrogant detective better at tracking down commission fees than actual criminals. Christine had a generally low opinion of the investigators, who had a tendency to be arrogant pricks.
Brandishing the case file she held in hand the Police Chief initiated the interrogation of a junior officer who claimed to have just returned from the scene with evidence. It was an ID on the victim, a Jonathan Wales with a past record with the department. "Who is this man, and why is he dead?" Christine demanded, flipping through the case file she had been threatening the junior officer with.
"It looks like a pretty standard mugging gone wrong so far Chief," the officer divulged, pointing out key facts in the case file, "The guy had some of the new stuff, and got in a fight about it. The detective is still at the scene, trying to find out more. Apparently the vic took a nasty knock to the head; laid him out flat. No wallet, but we got a hit on fingerprints. He's come in for drug-related stuff before, but never got himself caged. Guess he'll be in a wood cage now, eh Chief?" the officer jested, feeling a little bit tense in the commanding presence of Christine. He would never dream of calling her by her first name. He heard an office myth once that some guy had hit on her while in-duty and Chief Namira had put him in the holding cell for a whole day because of it. Everyone in the office had a crush on her power, but no one had the nerve to do anything about it.
Christine huffed at the bad joke, deciding to ignore it for now. "Do we have anything on the killer? Prints or DNA? I want this guy in before he uses up whatever he lifted from this Jonathan. The guys up in Narcotics need samples, and the killer has them right now. Get this guy in by nightfall, understood?" Christine ordered, meeting the officer's eyes dead on.
"Yes ma'am, Chief Namira," the officer barked out, eyes immediately dropping in submission, "We'll get this guy for you."
The officer then scooted by Christine, scurrying off to deliver his evidence to whoever he reported to. Quickly finishing her scan of the case file, which was pitifully short at the moment, Christine selected a random officer who was drinking coffee with two other cops to escort her to the scene, which was a few miles south of the department. "You,"[/color] she commanded, pointing at the officer, who immediately snapped to attention and nearly dropped his mug, "Come with me. We're going to go check out this murder."
Heading out the front door with the officer on her heels, Christine slipped into a squad car and shifted to reverse, throwing a look over her shoulder as she backed into the street. Maybe this will be our lucky break Chief Namira hoped as she drove south towards the scene of the crime.