Agent with a History

There was enough light coming through the windows to see by, but there was little to be done that didn't require the internet for research. The generator backup should have kicked on by now, but it wasn't a surprise that it hadn't.

The generators were rarely in working order. I'd been going to question the homeless man further, but the cell bays would be completely dark and sweltering in a little while. I'd do that later.

I picked up the book Sal had been holding and asked Rafferty, "Mind if I borrow this and do a little research?"

"Sure knock yourself out." He responded, looking secretly pleased that I was reading one of his coveted westerns.

I smiled and made my way outside. The blackout was a long one, lasting just over three hours. The book was a quick read and I stayed outside a few extra minutes to finish it up.

Westerns weren't my thing, but I had to admit this was a well written book. I wondered if these fix-it agents got to pick their characters, because I could see several similarities between the character in the book and my nighttime visitor. Both had hidden qualities and both were tough as nails, to put it in the western vernacular.

I had just entered the precinct building, when the alarms went off and the doors slammed shut behind me. My phone rang and I saw it was Sal.

"What's going on?"

"You need to come to the cell block!"

I hung up the phone and ran for the stairs as the elevators were still fouled up.

I pushed through the gathered ranks of police in the cell bay, stopping only briefly when I saw the swinging body of the homeless man. I finished pushing my way into the cell.

Lauren, the medical examiner, looked over at me, "No, I don't think it was a suicide. I don't think our victim was fit enough or tall enough to climb up the bars and lean over and catch the light fixture on the wall to hang himself from it. The cell block officer says he didn't have any rope on him either. His belt is missing, but the officer that checked him in swears that it was a leather belt and not made of rope. The worst part of it is I think he was alive and choking to death for as much as an hour. He managed to get one of his hands partially between the rope and his throat. He left scuff marks all over the wall behind him, with the heels of his shoes. I found this clutched tight in his free hand."