Experience was something irreplaceable, especially for a detective. There was any number of strange situations one could find themselves seeing during an investigation. Similarly, there were many lessons one learned from their experience, both from mistakes past and successes equally. Though few people truly considered that so much as who had the biggest bust. What new beat cop managed to get himself noticed by the press and public, or hotshot detective that closed a few high-profile cases. Often times before going and giving out interviews to the press like a shmuck, more interested in glory than the actually cleanin’ up the streets.
Most would assume Bellmuse was a peaceful country, compared to the other kingdoms it was small, however the growth in both population and economy had caused another, less fortunate growth to begin. Namely the growth of the criminal element of the country. The island country had always been had an issue with smugglers and pirates, but with the growth of the city of Bellmuse more internal criminal populations began to grow as well. Between simple criminals appearing, and criminal groups in other kingdoms branching out to the new market.
Yes, Detective Moe Finn had seen all of this, being a local of Bellmuse it wasn’t surprising to anyone he would have, and he was often called onto more dangerous cases, whether willingly or not. It was a sad fact that few police officers had unlock aura, most who did usually just deciding to become huntsman or huntresses rather than staying on the force, assuming they had ever joined in the first place. The higher ups didn’t think it was a good idea to leave the newer detectives fully to their own devices, and so they occasionally moved Moe around to give them the opportunity to learn from someone more experienced.
Moe found it bothersome, damn suits couldn’t leave things well enough alone, and yet they never actually let their hero cop types actually look bad, tended to give them an ego, even the decent ones. While the cop he was helping on a case today wasn’t the worst, Moe still was in a bad mood over the prospect of having to babysit some rookie.
The case tonight, looked like a murder, it was around midnight when Moe arrived on scene, the night air cool on the hardened detective’s skin as he looked over the scene, a specter in a trench coat watching over not only the younger detective, but the crime scene in general. Moe lit a cigarette as he approached the younger man, Thompson Valentine, organized crime division if Moe remembered right.
“I see you would be Detective Finn correct?” The man asked, seemingly keeping up a calculating demeanor, though Moe detected some slight edge to the question. Seemed he wasn’t the only one not happy about the arrangement if he had to guess. Moe couldn’t blame the other cop, as he himself wouldn’t have liked the insinuation of needing to learn more when he was a young detective.
Moe knew a little about Thompson Valentine, had a few years on the force with a good reputation. Though to a seasoned detective like Moe he was still as much a rookie as the rest of them. “Yeah, who’s the stiff?” The detective asked, gesturing to the nearby crime scene, he hadn’t had a time to take a close look, but Moe could see the victim looked familiar.
“Victim is Jimmy “The Squid” Greenwall, part of an underground smuggler group, looks like he got on the bad side of the wrong person. Gunshot wound to the head, execution style.” Valentine explained as the two of them walked up to the body. Moe frowned, noting something wasn’t right about that. Nothin’ concrete, but he’d been in this job long enough not to discount his gut when it came down to it. The detective noticed it the moment he got closer to the body, but said nothing, he was similarly aware of the reputation of “The Squid” So to speak, supposedly good at getting things where they shouldn’t, had a rep as a big drinker as well.
“Suspects?” He asked, waiting to see what Valentine thought on what had happened, he’d wait and see, though at the moment he merely had a hunch. Moe crouched over the body, slipping a pair of gloves out of his trench coat. Moe Reached over, after confirming the body had already been documented and was ok to move, a flask appeared to be left abandoned to the man’s side. Custom made looked like, possibly a gift of some kind. Moe grabbed it carefully, shaking it to confirm that the flask still had something inside it as he waited for the younger detective answered.
“Street punk over there, part of a local gang that’s had some beef with Jimmy’s crew, picked him up about a block over, haven’t found the gun yet.” Valentine answered, Moe sighed, having figured the man would answer something like that. The detained man looked the type, tattoos on the face and neck, looked like a stereotypical street hustler but there was something wrong. “Don’t think you will on him, guy was shot with his own piece.” Moe answered, reaching over to the gun on the dead man’s hip. It was still cold, but the revolver notably had one bullet missing. Same caliber as the bullet wound by the look of it.
“So, he shot him with his own gun? Probably figured it’d gain him some street cred.” The younger detective theorized, and Moe finally shook his head. “One problem with that, kid.” He answered, pausing to stand up and taking a prolonged drag from his cigarette. “Jimmy wasn’t killed with a gun.” The middle-aged detective opened the flask, taking a sniff before closing it again. “Get this to evidence.” He said, handing the flask to one of the Crime scene shmucks walking around. “blood near the mouth and nose, eyes are bloodshot to, the gunshot was a ruse to throw us off.” Moe elaborated, looking at the other detective. “Look into who he’s been drinking with, I’d say it’s likely an inside job though.”
The scene was finished being processed and investigated more thoroughly afterwards, with the street punk’s alibi checking out in the end. It would be two days before the police would find and arrest the real killer, a man that “The squid” had been partners with for well over a decade. Moe meanwhile gave Valentine a look as they finished wrapping up the case. “Listen kid, sometimes things aint what they seem, you wanna make a difference, you’ve gotta hone your instincts.” With that advise he would disappear into the night, notably leaving the paperwork for the rookie.
Being a veteran had to have some perks, eh?
Most would assume Bellmuse was a peaceful country, compared to the other kingdoms it was small, however the growth in both population and economy had caused another, less fortunate growth to begin. Namely the growth of the criminal element of the country. The island country had always been had an issue with smugglers and pirates, but with the growth of the city of Bellmuse more internal criminal populations began to grow as well. Between simple criminals appearing, and criminal groups in other kingdoms branching out to the new market.
Yes, Detective Moe Finn had seen all of this, being a local of Bellmuse it wasn’t surprising to anyone he would have, and he was often called onto more dangerous cases, whether willingly or not. It was a sad fact that few police officers had unlock aura, most who did usually just deciding to become huntsman or huntresses rather than staying on the force, assuming they had ever joined in the first place. The higher ups didn’t think it was a good idea to leave the newer detectives fully to their own devices, and so they occasionally moved Moe around to give them the opportunity to learn from someone more experienced.
Moe found it bothersome, damn suits couldn’t leave things well enough alone, and yet they never actually let their hero cop types actually look bad, tended to give them an ego, even the decent ones. While the cop he was helping on a case today wasn’t the worst, Moe still was in a bad mood over the prospect of having to babysit some rookie.
The case tonight, looked like a murder, it was around midnight when Moe arrived on scene, the night air cool on the hardened detective’s skin as he looked over the scene, a specter in a trench coat watching over not only the younger detective, but the crime scene in general. Moe lit a cigarette as he approached the younger man, Thompson Valentine, organized crime division if Moe remembered right.
“I see you would be Detective Finn correct?” The man asked, seemingly keeping up a calculating demeanor, though Moe detected some slight edge to the question. Seemed he wasn’t the only one not happy about the arrangement if he had to guess. Moe couldn’t blame the other cop, as he himself wouldn’t have liked the insinuation of needing to learn more when he was a young detective.
Moe knew a little about Thompson Valentine, had a few years on the force with a good reputation. Though to a seasoned detective like Moe he was still as much a rookie as the rest of them. “Yeah, who’s the stiff?” The detective asked, gesturing to the nearby crime scene, he hadn’t had a time to take a close look, but Moe could see the victim looked familiar.
“Victim is Jimmy “The Squid” Greenwall, part of an underground smuggler group, looks like he got on the bad side of the wrong person. Gunshot wound to the head, execution style.” Valentine explained as the two of them walked up to the body. Moe frowned, noting something wasn’t right about that. Nothin’ concrete, but he’d been in this job long enough not to discount his gut when it came down to it. The detective noticed it the moment he got closer to the body, but said nothing, he was similarly aware of the reputation of “The Squid” So to speak, supposedly good at getting things where they shouldn’t, had a rep as a big drinker as well.
“Suspects?” He asked, waiting to see what Valentine thought on what had happened, he’d wait and see, though at the moment he merely had a hunch. Moe crouched over the body, slipping a pair of gloves out of his trench coat. Moe Reached over, after confirming the body had already been documented and was ok to move, a flask appeared to be left abandoned to the man’s side. Custom made looked like, possibly a gift of some kind. Moe grabbed it carefully, shaking it to confirm that the flask still had something inside it as he waited for the younger detective answered.
“Street punk over there, part of a local gang that’s had some beef with Jimmy’s crew, picked him up about a block over, haven’t found the gun yet.” Valentine answered, Moe sighed, having figured the man would answer something like that. The detained man looked the type, tattoos on the face and neck, looked like a stereotypical street hustler but there was something wrong. “Don’t think you will on him, guy was shot with his own piece.” Moe answered, reaching over to the gun on the dead man’s hip. It was still cold, but the revolver notably had one bullet missing. Same caliber as the bullet wound by the look of it.
“So, he shot him with his own gun? Probably figured it’d gain him some street cred.” The younger detective theorized, and Moe finally shook his head. “One problem with that, kid.” He answered, pausing to stand up and taking a prolonged drag from his cigarette. “Jimmy wasn’t killed with a gun.” The middle-aged detective opened the flask, taking a sniff before closing it again. “Get this to evidence.” He said, handing the flask to one of the Crime scene shmucks walking around. “blood near the mouth and nose, eyes are bloodshot to, the gunshot was a ruse to throw us off.” Moe elaborated, looking at the other detective. “Look into who he’s been drinking with, I’d say it’s likely an inside job though.”
The scene was finished being processed and investigated more thoroughly afterwards, with the street punk’s alibi checking out in the end. It would be two days before the police would find and arrest the real killer, a man that “The squid” had been partners with for well over a decade. Moe meanwhile gave Valentine a look as they finished wrapping up the case. “Listen kid, sometimes things aint what they seem, you wanna make a difference, you’ve gotta hone your instincts.” With that advise he would disappear into the night, notably leaving the paperwork for the rookie.
Being a veteran had to have some perks, eh?
