The crowd stepped back as the old vic rumbled to a stop by the curb. A few curious civilians gathered outside the entrance to the building. Uniforms had cordoned off the wide entrance.. Scott surveyed at the scene from behind the wheel. Civies pushing to get a peek, too few uniforms trying to keep them out, some faces he recognised with notepads, the broad, imposing letters of STARK INDUSTRIES loomed above the entrance. Scott popped the glove compartment, put on his shades and stepped out of the car. Already he could tell, this was going to be one of those cases.
He felt the bright flash of a camera. The crush of people was immediate. “Detective! Detective! -Can I get a statement? Has there been a murder? - These Stark types DESERVE it man! Down with our coorporate overlords! - Oh, I hear it’s the Jones lad. His poor, poor parents. -Mister! My sis didn’t come home last night! Mister! You gotta let me know-”. The detective kept his head down and pushed past the crowd, everyone ignored save for the reporter he recognised to whom he stated a brusque, “You. Official statement later. That goes for everyone. Until then stop harassing my uniforms, I mean it.”.
By contrast the bloodied lobby was a reprieve. It was just as chaotic, only not all of it was directed at him. Ten or more people crowded the room, everyone involved in their own roles. CSI units setting up placed bright markers over the floors, fiercely defending their evidence from any uniforms that wandered too close. Cables were run to light illuminating the blood splattering up the walls. Consistent with high impact blunt force trau-
“-Sir, some Stark Industries representatives are here, they said they have to speak to you-” a uniform bustled up to him.
“Push the perimeter back. Cordon off this side of the street. I want no one getting near this place. Make access for the coroner vans. ”.
“And uh, the Stark reps?”
“Keep them off my crime scene. Witness?”
“Jackie Falsworth. Twenty - eight. Works in the building. She’s nearby in a waiting room. No one has spoken to her like you said.”
“Good. Don’t let Stark’s people near her. Who’s running CSI?”.
“Braddock, Sir. She’s by the body.”
Scott nodded. stepping away “That’s all. -Keep an eye on that reporter outside.”
At the centre of it all, lay the only still body in the room. He was bent over the reception desk, face dipped below view until Scott stepped around to inspect him. The victim hung over the edge of the desk, face to the floor. Scott crouched, craning to get a clearer angle. Blood ran down most of his face, bone structure now nothing more than a messy imitation of human anatomy. It looked as if a child with red clay had made an attempt at a face and grew impatient.
Behind the desk, away from prying eyes, Scott gave the technician a look. A real live murder. And an unusual one at that. They lived for this shit. “So. What’ve we got Bets?”
