Detective Lee

Reginald was waiting for them in a black sedan, parked at the end of Emelia’s driveway. John didn’t quite understand why black was the Brighton’s choice colour; black practically screamed “check me out, I’m a highly suspicious vehicle!” The tinted windows didn’t exactly help either.

The back doors of the sedan unlocked as the young couple hurried close, and, eager to get out of the dizzying sun light like a pair of vampires, they ducked inside.

Reginald glanced at them through the rearview mirror with the ghost of amusement creeping into his dark eyes. “Greetings, Master Newman, Miss Perrault. Was your night satisfactory?”

“Yes and no,” John replied honestly. “The half I can remember was fine, the other half? Can’t remember a thing, but it seems like I went a little… overboard — I’ll spare you the details.”

“Nothing damaging was recorded, I hope?” the butler asked carefully.

“For me? Probably,” John admitted. “For the Order? I doubt it; drunk John was a little preoccupied last night.”

“Well, perhaps something for the head may jog your memory? Maybe help you answer with a little more certainty,” the butler replied, opening the small compartment between the front seats and taking out a container filled with four piss-yellow pills and a bottle of water.

“Please,” John groaned, gratefully as he snatched them both. He quickly downed two of them along with a gulp of water before passing the rest over to Red. John felt a thunderous crack inside his head, as if lighting had literally just shocked his mind. It hurt for but a moment before the pain subsided entirely, leaving him in a very normal state. It felt somewhat surreal to go from hungover to normal in the time it took to snap your fingers. ‘The wonders of a world filled with magic, I suppose,’ John thought. ‘I guess this proves the Abyss doesn’t exist entirely to make people feel like shit.’

“Thanks, Reggie,” Red said gratefully as she swallowed her own two pills. “Also there’s no need for any ‘Miss Perrault’, just call me Red.”

“I will have to respectfully decline, Miss Perault” Reginald replied calmly. “A gentleman must always mind his manners.”

“Aww, c'mon,” Red whined in reply. “Are you really being polite if I’ve asked you otherwise?”

“It would be unbecoming of my position,” the butler replied firmly as he started the car.

“Leave him alone, Red,” John nudged her gently. “He’s just doing his job.”

Red brushed his elbow aside and poked him teasingly. “Hey, just because you get off on being called master doesn’t mean other people can’t get chummy with Reggie.”

John let out a sigh as his eyes turned away sheepishly to stare out the car window. He was grateful that Reginald’s professionality kept him from commenting and seized the ensuing silence as an opportunity to change the subject.

“Can you tell me anything about what’s going on?” he asked the butler.

“Certainly,” Reginald replied. “A man was murdered in Mitchum Memorial Park in the early hours of this morning. The victim, found by a security guard, had multiple claw and puncture marks along his arms and torso while a large portion of his waist and thighs had been bitten off and seemingly consumed by the attacker. It was reported to authorities as a rather vicious animal attack, but given that this occurred in the centre of the city, we suspect otherwise.”

“I see…” John grimaced at the mental image. “That all sounds really interesting… and gruesome, but I’m not sure exactly what’s expected of me here. I’m not a detective, I’m just a kid that fights shit and talks too much.”

“With respect, Master Newman,” the butler began with a quick breath as if formulating a lengthy reply. “The decision to bring you into this investigation came about at the behest of Lady Brighton. The case was intended to be an educational experience for the young Warden but she insisted you take part in it also. Lord Brighton, too, seems to think that you are a worthwhile investment so has permitted your involvement. As you say, you’re just ‘a kid that fights evil and talks too much, but perhaps you can be molded into something more useful to our noble organisation.”

“Right…” John rolled his eyes from the backseat. Something told him that the butler was not at all happy with the idea that he and Moira would be working together again. John still recalled clearly the butler’s threat to stay away from the Warden; his eyes had promised severe consequences. John understood why the butler was cold with him, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. ‘I mean, I wouldn’t want a womanising little shit anywhere near my holy maiden either,’ he nodded sagely.

“So… are there any clues as to who or what the killer might be?” John voiced. “Maybe a zombie? Or a vampire? Cannibal? Demon?”

“Could be a warg or a lycan,” Red suggested.

“Eh, that was last month’s flavour,” John shrugged.

“Maybe so, but it’s still a possibility,” Red chuckled.

“A shifter of some kind is a strong possibility,” the butler added calmly as he turned onto the main road heading into central Springfield.

It did not take long before the sedan rolled to a stop outside Mitchum Hospital. The building was nestled on the south end of the large park named after the same family at the centre of town. It was a fairly modest building amongst the creeping skyscrapers that shadowed it on either side, with plain white-washed walls and very little decoration to speak of save for a small recreational garden tucked to one side. John had visited the hospital a few times in his past but had only become recently aware of the Apothecary Centre serving the medical needs of Abyssal denizens hidden inside.

Reginald pulled the car up to the front where a familiar red-headed Warden waited for them beside a somber man dressed in a sharp black and grey striped suit.

“Hey, John, thank you for coming,” Moira greeted brightly as he stepped out of the car, giving him a brief hug before hurriedly pulling away as she caught the lingering stench of **** that had seeped into his clothes.

“Oh, yeah, I kinda spilled a few last night…” he laughed nervously.

“Why don’t you make use of that lovely inventory of yours to carry around a change of clothes, darling?” Red lightly poked him in the ribs as she followed him out of the car. “And perhaps a set for me too.”

“You know what? That’s not a bad idea,” John conceded to his girlfriend’s wisdom.

“Of course it isn’t,” Red laughed before she turned her attention to the Warden. “Hello, lovely. It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“You too, Red,” Moira blushed in response.

Red seemed just about ready to chat away an hour of everyone’s time before the dour man in the suit coughed abruptly. “Greetings, Mr. Newman.”

“Detective Lee,” John dipped his head politely.

Michael Lee was a senior detective in Springfield’s central precinct. He was a stiff and formal man — not unlike Reginald — of Korean American descent with slick black hair, dull grey eyes and a waxy face. In every one of John’s encounters with the man, he’d been wearing the same black and grey striped attire. The only noticeable difference on his person was the brightly coloured tie tucked neatly into his suit, which seemed to change with the day. Today’s colour was red.

As you’d expect of a secretive organisation like the Order, there were some messes that they needed to clean up or smooth over with mundane authorities and the wider public. Lee was that man. Though, John somehow doubted he was the only agent the Order had planted in the public sphere. He was a man John had only recently become acquainted with in the aftermath of his trouble with Vulpis. Lee was the one that had masked the true nature of the incident with the city police department and ensured both John’s school and criminal record were spotless.

“The Detective will be acting as your handler during the investigation,” the butler explained.

“Alright,” John nodded, glad that he and Moira weren’t being thrown into this without veteran guidance.

“Well then, unless there is anything else you require, I will be returning to the manor,” the butler added.

“We’ll be fine, thank you, Reginald,” Moira replied, giving the butler a small wave.

The butler nodded his head once in response. “It is my pleasure, my Lady.”

There was a brief pause as they watched the sedan roll away and disappear around a corner before Lee cut through the silence, “You certainly chose to dress for the occasion,” he commented humorously.

“Right, uh… we were at a party and kinda called here on short notice,” John replied.

“I see…” the detective stared keenly at John. “And would you care to explain the smell of liquor hanging in the air around you both?”

“We were drinking,” John replied, seeing no point in lying to the man.

“So you’re admitting to the illegal consumption of **** as a minor?” the detective’s eyes finally broke from their neutral gaze as he raised one brow.

“Are you planning on arresting me?” John wondered with a slight bit of amusement.

“Not today. I will let your current state slide this one time on the grounds of sudden and more pressing circumstances,” Detective Lee brushed the notion aside sternly. “But only this once. For the duration that you are under my care, I will have zero tolerance for cocky and insubordinate brats. Though this may be a mere training exercise to you, the **** is very much genuine meaning that until the killer is behind bars or six feet under he, she, or it will remain a constant threat to you, those you know, and the city at large. As such I expect you to treat this case with respect, care, and discipline. You will attend this job properly bathed and dressed sharply. You will be observant, attentive, well-mannered, and most importantly: discreet. Do this and I will teach you what I know to the best of my ability. Am I being clear?”

“Crystal clear,” John replied quickly. “Though I promise you I don’t normally make a habit of getting wasted anyway. Also, is there any problem with Red tagging along?”

Detective Lee’s eyes turned to Red. “Yes, I remember you. The warg, yes? Well, so long as you abide by those same rules, there should be no problem. In fact a good nose may be a useful aid. But the moment I catch either of you fooling around while on the clock is the moment my good faith vanishes.”

“That’s fair,” Red replied. John nodded in agreement.

“And you,” Lee now turned to Moira. “Warden or not, you will abide by those same rules. Step out of line and I’ll cut you from this investigation as easily as I would Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf over there.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Moira replied calmly, her eyes glancing briefly over to John.

There was a tinge of relief to her green irises. John was well aware of the hefty weight her position carried. Perhaps this investigation would be a pleasant change of pace from her usual duties. Maybe that was why she was so keen on roping him into this?

“Alright then,” Lee allowed himself a small smile as he extended his hand to them. “You seem like good and honest kids, so perhaps this won’t go as poorly as I told Lord Brighton it would.”