The night deepened as the detective slammed his car door in the quiet, shattering the fragile silence the city had steeped into. Even for a Coastal city, the door slamming was like a gunshot in the quiet. The dark buildings towering over the police station held all the eeriness of the dancing shadows at the edge of the street lights reach.

He leaned against the car heavily, the night stealing the last vestiges of his youth and casting them into the gloom. There was nothing that could have prepared him for the scene he had just witnessed. The naked violence of it was so stark, so glaring that it was surreal.

It was the blood…there was so much blood…

The purple swathes of clouds hovering over the dark city parted to finally reveal the bloodied moon as it crested over the monolithic spires of steel and glass, pouring its garish light over the deserted street side. It wasn’t unusual to see a military vehicle or two passing by but tonight the city seemed eerily empty. He looked as the moon light fell on him and shuddered at the prophetic hue it donned this night.

Finally, able to muster the strength, the weary detective pushed away from the car and started up the steps to the revolving glass doors. Once through, the young blonde receptionist whose name he could never remember hailed him immediately.

“Detective Cromwell, I’m so glad your back. I’m sorry, I-I tried to stop him, but there was nothing I could do-” She rounded her desk, tripping over her feet as much as her words. A manila folder was clutched to her breast, the details to his case, no doubt.

Cromwell held up a hand, “Hold on, slow down, Vicki. Stop who?”

“It’s Valerie and Detective Hale, sir.”

Cromwell shook his head, sure that he misheard, “Did you say Hale? The rookie?

She nodded, “The rookie.”

“Shit. What the hell does he think he’s doing? He’s going to screw this case before it even begins.” Cromwell muttered viciously, not realizing he was speaking aloud, though Valerie shrugged all the same. Cromwell looked at her and held out his hand for the folder, “Sorry. Where is he?”

“Questioning.”

“Questioning? What do you mean questioning? He’s with the suspect?” Crowell demanded, swearing explosively when the receptionist nodded timidly. “…Excuse me, Victoria, I have to see to this right away.”

“It’s Valarie, but wait, Detective.” She grabbed his arm lightly before he could hurry away. He began to pull his arm away, but stopped when he looked at her face. The fear was laid bare in paleness of her face, a fear that chilled him to his very bones.

“Did they stop the fire in Old District?”

Ice pumped through his veins at the mention of the inferno, “No, no they haven’t yet.”

“Is it safe here?”

“As safe as it can be, Valerie. The Old District is some ways from here.” The lie almost sounded convincing enough for her to believe, but he could tell she didn’t. Was it safe here? He didn’t feel safe here. There was this feeling, a dark, heavy mist of unease that seemed to ooze throughout the quiet city. And it was quiet…surely a deceptive calm before a deadly storm.

She nodded uneasily, “My shift ended half an hour ago…I saw the fire on the news… my apartment’s near the Old District…do you think it would be ok if I stayed here for a while?”

He blinked. She was shaking. “It might be a good idea.”

“Thank you, sir.” She smiled gratefully as she turned towards her desk.

“You’re welcome.” He pushed through the glass door and began sifting through the contents of his folder once more. Photos of the carnage sent him back to that old, derelict building nestled deep in the heart of the Old District, forcing him to relive his grisly examinations. It wasn’t until the door to the interrogation room swung open that he broke out of his reverie.

“You.” The young man froze just outside door way, the door swinging shut of the shadowy room. He muttered a short curse be for hitching a barely convincing smile of bravado to his face.

“Detective Cromwell…” He began, but shrank back, the smile slipping from his face, as Cromwell stepped closer, his face inches from the rookies.

“No, shut up. What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Cromwell growled lowly.

“Hey!” The rookie tried to jump back as Cromwell grabbed his suit jacket.

“Do you have any idea what you could’ve done? In that room there's a suspect to a triple homicide and last week you were a goddamn patrol sergeant, Hale. Do you want to fuck this case before it even starts?”

“Oh, good, you remember my name at least.” Hale quipped with a grin. Cromwell clenched his jaw tightly and the insipid grin slipped from the rookie’s face.

“Shut up. What the hell is in your head that you thought you could question a witness without me, your superior and lead detective on this case, present?”

“I found him?” Hale shrugged and Cromwell released him with a sigh of disgust.

“Right, because fuck this whole chain of command thing we have going on.” Cromwell pushed back his thinning hair with a sigh before nodding to the one-way window. He could barely make out the form chained to a chair in the gloom.

“What did he say to you?”

“He didn’t say anything.” Hale answered as he straightened his collar. “He just kind of…stared at me.”

“Stared at you?” Cromwell turned to look at him, trying to catch the young man’s eyes before he averted them. There was something in his voice that he didn’t like, but in that brief glance, his eyes told him more than his words ever could. Something had shaken him. Badly. Fear had stolen its way into the man, a sort of respectful terror reserved for gods and devils.

“It wasn’t what you thought it would be, was it?”

“I guess not… Vic, what fuck happened out there? I mean what the hell? Did a bomb go off up there or something? A firefight? Some drug deal gone wrong? I don’t know, but the dispatcher told the patrols that the caller said it sounded like a war was going on up there. And when we get up there, we have this creepy bastard just sitting there, soaking wet and holding her hand. Isn’t that a little messed up?” Hales words were jumbled together as he loosened his tie, a runnel of sweat running the side of his face.

“It’s up there, for sure.” Cromwell answered absently as he looked at his suspect. The man’s face was hidden from him, his head was bowed so low that the long dark fringes brushed the steel tabletop. He didn’t look like much, but much of him was hidden in the shadows. His shoulders were rippling with cords of hard muscle beneath his simple black shirt, suggesting considerable strength, but that wasn’t what caught the Detective’s eye. As he watched him it happened again, a slight quiver that ran the length of the man.

If Cromwell didn’t know any better he would have that the man was crying quietly to himself. When it happened again, he turned to Hale, “He didn’t say anything to you? In there or at the scene?”

“Not a word. He didn’t even look like he was breathing, to be honest.”

“OK…I’m going in there. You…” Cromwell pointed at Hale. “…stay out here. Watch and learn.”

“Fine by me.” Relief washed down the rookie’s face, but he pulled an envelope out of his breast pocket. “But you might want to read this first.”

Frowning as he took it, Cromwell groaned, “Please tell me this isn’t from the scene.” When Hale merely shrugged, he scoffed. “You’re burying yourself deeper and deeper, Sergeant.”

“It’s Detective.” Hale retorted defensively.

“It’s funny that you still think so.” Cromwell muttered as he looked at the name in flowing script on the weathered envelope. “‘Derek’…I wonder if we have this Derek handcuffed to that chair in there.”

“Maybe… Read it.”

Cromwell held the folder to his side before pulling letter out and started reading. With each word the lump in his throat grew more painful, his eyes wider. If this was real and that was Derek in there…this whole case just took a turn for the surreal.

“You thinking Stockholm’s?” Hale asked quietly.

“I don’t know…maybe…I won’t know until I talk to him.” Cromwell answered just as quietly. Stuffing the letter into the folder, Cromwell clapped Hale on the shoulder, “Now why don’t you be a good man and get me a cup of coffee. Get yourself one too, I get the feeling we’ll be here for a bit.