The Detective Investigates Strange Incidents

Daniel Sihn looked down at the charred body, noting the burnt red and black leftover flesh and bones. Strangely enough, the fire that had consumed the body failed to spread out into the rest of the area, as the seat the corpse was sitting in, as well as the pristine white tablecloth its hands rested on, remained untouched by flame. He looked up from the body and glanced around the classy five-star restaurant, checking for any other signs of fire damage. His sharp eyes could find none.

"This is just fucking weird, kid," Jim Stazzo, his partner, said as he walked up to him after speaking with the first officer on scene. All around them were uniformed officers as well as lab techs scouring the scene of the restaurant for any clues.

Stazzo walked up to his partner, towering over the younger detective. He was six five and built like a linebacker, though his fifty five years had hit his physique somewhat as he had a noticeable gut hanging from his belt. Regardless he was still powerfully built, his strong unshaven jawline and bushy mustache only adding to his tough but haggard appearance.

Daniel, on the other hand, was bit leaner and shorter at 5' 10". He was also a bit more well kept than his partner, with his face clean shaven and his black hair slicked back smartly, and upon his face was a pair of classy wire framed glasses. His pressed, dark blue suit contrasted sharply with Stazzo's shabby brown department store suit, one that looked several years old and had numerous coffee stains on it.

"Yeah," Daniel answered him, his eyes returning to the charred corpse seated on the at one of the restaurant's tables. He then opened his notepad and began reading. "David Santorino, esquire. Was having lunch with an attractive young woman who was, by the way, not his wife, when witnesses say a man entered the restaurant, made his way to Santorino's table, and began having an loud argument with him. After two minutes of drama, witnesses say that Santorino suddenly burst into flames and burned to **** where he sat. The other man then quietly exited restaurant amongst the panicked patrons and staff."

"Yep, O'keen says the same thing," Stazzo said, referring to the first uniform on scene. "He said he came in and saw a lot of smoke, but no fire. After it cleared, this asshole was sitting there, burnt to a crisp. Weird as shit. But guess what? This burned little shithead is the personal attorney of Mr. Edward 'Big-Shot' Easton himself. Frankly, I ain't surprised someone offed the dirtbag. It's just kind a freaky how they did it."

"Hm," Daniel nodded. "Any idea who the other guy was? The one who was arguing with Santorino?"

"Lemme see," Stazzo sighed, pulling out his own notes and going over it. "Uh... here we go. Yeah. William Simon Hertz, former teacher at Roman Mills High School. His ex was a client of Mr. Shyster here and cleaned him out during the divorce. He was obviously not too happy."

"Typical," Daniel said. "Well, we better head on over and pay Mr. Hertz a visit. We should also get some uniforms over to his ex wife and make sure she wasn't fried as well."

"Already called it," Stazzo said as he and Daniel walked out of the restaurant. Some uniformed officers raised the yellow police tape strewn across the entrance up for them and the two detectives made their way towards Stazzo's car. The vehicle was an old Mazda RX-3 and shared its owners haggardness; its orange paintjob had seen better days, and there were several nicks and bumps along its once smooth body.

Just as the two detectives were seated and fastening their seatbelts, an urgent call flared up from the radio.

"All available patrols, please respond. Code 10-31 at 22nd Street Bank of America. 10-00 at scene."

"Shit!" Stazzo cursed as he revved the engine. "What the hell is up with all this shit today?" The siren whirred just as the old car roared to life, speeding down the street as other patrol cars from the scene joined them. Code 10-00 meant officer down.