“Figures you'd show up.”
We both stood straight, hands in pockets, staring at the dead.
“Any suspects?” My words were followed by an awkward silence.
“If you took off your mask, we could have one less.”
“Fine like this.”
The detective sarcastically chuckled. He removed his hands from the confines of his pockets, bringing out a cigarette tin and a box of matches, to which he promptly lit a cigarette.
“All we know is that he was working on something big and it would've had to do with the convention in town.”
“It'd have to be pretty big to have him thrown off a building.”
Silence, again. He rustled around in his pocket and gave me a small plastic card.
“His name is-”
“William Jorgensen. I know.”
The detective reacted with a hint of surprise. He threw the card back into his pocket with disdain.
“I won't ask...” He spoke aloud, followed by a suggestive pause.
“Then don't. What was he working on?”
“It’s vague. Something to do with a new type of mechanical structuring system. Hell if I know. He had reserved a room in the hotel he came down from. Ransacked. Room safe was broken open. We’re unsure if anything was taken. Inside was a small computer disk and at least three wads of money. We suspect-“
“If the person who had killed him and broken into his room wanted something the victim had, he has it. If the disk has important or private data and the money is substantial, then he wanted it to look like a break in. I’ve seen something like this before. Perhaps he wanted something only Jorgensen knew, and then killed him to make it easier to steal information later on, either that or he killed him to perhaps keep him quiet, or damage a process that needed him alive and well. I don't get paid to do your job. You should be telling me this.”
The detective stood in silence once more. The look of irritation grew on his face. He threw his cigarette to the ground and knelt down to take a closer look at the body. The victim was in casual clothing. Nothing out of the ordinary here, except that he wasn't wearing anything on his feet. The detective began talking again, but this time there was nothing in it for me, so I let it all drift. I backed-up slowly and slipped away, returning to the alley. He didn't notice. I drew up my own list of suspects and scenarios. Tonight was going to be a long night and tomorrow, a long day too.