Crowley opened the door to the station and looked surprised when Wild followed Jack inside.
"Um, sir. I thought you'd be coming alone."
"Mr. Wild wanted to sit in on the meeting, he was hired to solve this case."
"Oh, suppose it's alright. If Mr. Ubel says so, that is."
"Mr. Ubel?"
"The detective inspector." Mr. Ubel said as he walked into the room, scanning it with a slight frown, and pausing when he saw Wild.
"What is he doing here?"
Crowley tried to explain as Mr. Ubel and Wild stared daggers at each other.
"He can make do with what he finds himself. Go on." He said icily.
Wild clasped his hands behind his back and tried not to look as annoyed as he felt. "I might be a help you know. World renowned detective. Got a bit of experience.
It would make it easier for you to solve the crime, protect the citizens which is, you know. Your job."
"Get out."
"Alright. Idiot." He murmured under his breath as he turned to leave.
"We don't like your type showing their faces here." Wild paused and gave him a look that was a mix between scathing and pitying. Then he left.
Jack felt a bit ill when Ubel turned to address him.
"Now that's out of the way, what's the situation?"
Jack tried not to let his disgust show on his face, but based on the expression on Ubel's, he was unsuccessful. Oh well.
"A woman was killed yesterday, Mary Hawke. Her father is the owner of Hawke Inn.
A syringe was found by the body as was glowing paint. And an impression of something like a large bag."
"Hmm. Good. Maybe you'll impress me after all, Thorn."
Cool also I hate you, Jack thought to himself.
"Now, Crowley has just brought in the coroner's report.
She died due to an injection of bleach and by ingesting it, as she was forced to drink a cleaning product. Oxygen based sodium percarbonate and tetraacetylethylenediamine, so a laundry detergent, I'd expect. A significant head-wound was also noted, and I suspect she may have fallen off of the lighthouse tower.
Interesting isn't it?"
"When did she die, sir?" Jack asked.
Ubel huffed a laugh to himself and looked at Jack.
"Mr. Thorn, you're a constable. I'm the detective. Alright?
I'm the one solving the mystery, you're the one running errands.
Now, I need you to interview the people inside the neighbouring hotel, Flower Inn. Get everyone's statements, though try to not bother the important guests too much. Can you do that?"
Jack's eye twitched.
"Yes Sir."
"Good boy. Oh and fetch me an almond croissant from the bakery while you're at it."
"I'll need the keys to a police car, Sir."
"Really? How did you get here then?"
"Caught a lift with a good friend."
"I see. Here. Don't scratch it." Ubel said, throwing the keys at him.
"Crowley, with me." Crowley gave him an apologetic look before hurrying after Ubel.
Jack let out a heavy sigh and went to get the car.
He was greeted by the sight of Wild sitting crossed legged on his car, his chin resting on his hands.
"Hey." He sat next to him and got a tired smile in response.
"Hello. I was going to drive off dramatically but then I remembered that you don't have a car."
"They've got police ones."
"Hmm." He sighed heavily. "When will I just be able to be?"
He looked at Jack. Jack opened his mouth, and closed it again, shaking his head.
They stared off into the distance, thinking.
"I don't know." Wild glanced back at him as Jack continued. "I don't think it will be within our lifetime. Maybe it will never happen but it will get better. It has to.
I wouldn't know what to do, if I didn't."
Wild hummed. "You're invested in this."
"I can't live in a world where you're treated like this. Where anyone is.
Other than being offensive and hurtful, it's just illogical, it doesn't make any sense! I mean you can't have a functioning society if most of the people believe in random bullshit-"
Wild laughed and nudged him with his shoulder.
"That's what's bothering you?"
"It's not the main thing, of course not, but... it makes no sense. None! I mean, it's a bunch of rumours isn't it? If you think about it. Just talking rubbish about entire groups of people, for centuries. World's worst gossip.
It's not grounded in reality, it's like they've lost it."
"And they're the ones in charge."
"Oy-vey. I hate men like him. They... they're not nice." Jack said, looking at the ground as Wild regarded him with curiosity.
"I know you shouldn't hate people, but it's true. Anyway... Ubel didn't give us the time of death so. You might want to look into that."
"Oh. Us?" Wild asked, eyes twinkling. Jack looked down.
"Well. I'd pick you over him any day." He glanced at Wild before looking away shyly.
"Anyway, I have to interview people in the hotel. Afterwards you can show me what you've got and I can show you what I've got. That didn't come out right." He added hastily as Wild tried not to laugh.
"Alright then Thorn. Can't wait to trade... information, with you. See you later." Jack rolled his eyes, before glancing at Wild who was still valiantly trying to keep a straight face.
"Hush up."
"I'm not saying anything." He said innocently, as Jack rolled his eyes.
He got up and determinedly didn't make eye-contact with Wild as he walked over to his police car.
Unfortunately he met Wild's eye at the door, so he was blushing madly and biting back a grin of his own as he climbed in.
Wild watched him go, still grinning and fairly certain he could feel a flush spreading across his own face.
He tried to compose himself and went to enter his own vehicle, fixing his thoughts on the case and also driving. Thinking of driving was typically helpful when driving. (It was more helpful than thinking of Jack's big old blue eyes, anyway.)
He sighed. What was he- that's right, the coroner. And driving.
He arrived at the office, and parked next to a police car. He stepped out of his car, vaguely aware that the owner of the police car was doing the same thing.
They glanced at each other over the hoods, and stared, blinking at each other for a few moments.
"Adams."
"Wild." He looked him up and down. "You're still alive then."
"On the outside. What are you doing here?"
Adams slammed the door shut and wandered around the car. "Well it's my constable who's working on this, so they decided to send me over too, to work with Mr. Ubel."
"Ugh."
"What? You don't like him?"
"No, but you probably will. Coroner's?"
"Trying to sneak in to get more information?"
"You should know me by now Adams, of course I am."
He chuckled to himself and nodded for him to go first. "Alright then I won't stop you. And in return you agree not to go... romancing my constable."
"I'm not going to go romancing your constable! Besides, he's not my type."
Adams snorted as they walked into the office. "Sure."
"Oh, and what's 'sure' supposed to mean?"
"The man I arrested you with looked quite a lot like -"
They were interrupted by a woman with a lot of frizzy orange hair. She blinked at them from behind a pair of large spectacles, and tucked a pen into the pocket of her brown plaid skirt. Then she changed her mind and put it behind her ear again.
"Hello. I suppose you're 9 o'clock then."
"We are, would you happen to know where the coroner is?" Adams asked.
She nodded briskly. "You'll find Doctor Quantum in the theatre, if you'll follow me."
She turned to walk quickly down the hall, Adams and Wild following behind her.
After pushing open the door to the empty theatre, she stood next to the body and pulled out her notes.
"Now, the individual died around 10 o'clock last night. It seemed she was force-fed bleach and it was also injected into her left arm.
Bruising on her arms and face indicated such force and a struggle, as does a punch to her left cheek that is indicative of a fight.
The cause of death was the bleach but the head wound certainly didn't help. It seems like she fell from a great height." She frowned and tapped the pen against her chin.
"You're Doctor Quantum then, I presume?"
"Hmm? Oh yes. Well everyone calls me that so I assume I am. Now among her personal possessions was a pen and one of those red bookmark strings that come glued into notebooks."
"But the notebook is missing?" Wild asked.
She hummed. "That seems to be the case."
"That notebook string is about 7 inches and in my experience it's usually about the length of the notebook.
So we're looking for a small book, 5-9 inches, pocket sized. Sorry, go on." Wild said with a small gesture.
"I like your constable Mr. Adams."
"Oh he's not my-"
"Her personal possessions also included a flashlight, a golden necklace and a key. There's something else notable, she had no other physical ailments. None.
Most people have a scrape, a scratch, a spot somewhere it shouldn't be. But no, she didn't have a single thing wrong with her.
Perfectly healthy by all accounts, it's rather extraordinary. Though I've heard it's rather common in this town."
"That's... interesting. Thank you for your time." Adams said. Wild meanwhile was pondering over what they'd found. "Hang on. Didn't the gold chain have a pendant saying 'Best?' "
"Uh, well if it did it doesn't anymore. That's usually how these things work. I'll let you know if I find it, and you let me know if you do the same."
As they were walking out Wild leaned on the roof of Adam's car and peered at him over the top of it.
Adams blinked. "Can I help you?"
"If the killer took a notebook, what else might they have taken? Maybe the "Best' thing?"
"Good point. Who hired you?"
"The woman's father. Are you at the Hawk Inn or the Flower Inn?"
"Flower Inn. Well, I suppose I'll see you around."
"See you." Wild said, still leaning on Adams' car. Adams looked pointedly between him and the vehicle.
Wild looked down and laughed, before backing away in embarrassment. "Sorry. See you 'round, for real this time!"
Adams shook his head and waved him away.
Wild drove back to the hotel, mulling the facts over in his mind. Tumbling them about like rocks in the ocean until they smoothed out, becoming things he could pick up and study.
He parked and went in to talk to Mr. Hawke. Taking off his hat, Wild walked in to find him staring off at nothing in particular.