Dark Nights

Chapter 2

Harry stepped out of his bedroom to see Niall leaned up against the counter with his phone pressed to his ear.  When Niall looked up to see Harry, he hung up. 

"Change o' plans.  Cap wants us ta go ta Twenty-seven West Broadway.  Got ta go to da 18th floor."

"What happened?" Harry asked as he headed to the door.

Niall shrugged, following close on Harry's heels.

"Jus' said ta go dare.  Supposed ta be a Code 10."

Harry nodded, quickly understanding.  Code 10 meant they would report directly to their commander, and there would be no unsealed interdepartmental reports and no cooperation with the press.

In essence, it meant they were on their own. 

Broadway was noisy and crowded, a party where rowdy guests never left. Street and pedestrian traffic were miserable, choking the air with bodies and vehicles.  In his old days in the blue uniform he remembered it as a hot spot for wrecks and crushed tourists who were too busy gaping at the show to get out of the way.  Even at this hour there was steam rising from the stationary and portable food stands that offered everything from ice to soy-dogs.  Harry had to swerve to avoid an eager merchant pushing his cart of pretzels, and took his flipped middle finger, as a matter of course.

Harry double-parked and, skirting a man who smelled worse than his bottle of brew, stepped onto the sidewalk, along with Niall.  He scanned the building first.  Fifty floors of gleaming metal that knifed into the sky from a hilt of concrete. He was propositioned twice, once by a woman and once by a man, before he reached the door.

Since this five-block area of Broadway was affectionately termed Prostitute's Walk, he wasn't surprised.  Niall, however, grumbled under his breath by only being propositioned once.  And not by a woman. 

They both flashed their badges for the uniform guarding the entrance.

"Detectives Styles and Horan," he announced.

"Yes, sir."  The uniform let the two pass, sealing the door shut after them.  When they stepped inside, another uniform met them and led them to the elevator.  Once inside, Harry spoke.

"Fill us in."

"I actually wasn't the first on scene, sir." Explained the uniform who couldn't have been more than 20.  "Whatever happened upstairs is being kept upstairs.  No uniforms get to know.  The Captain is inside waiting for you.  All I know I we have homicide, and a Code 10 in 1803."

"Who called it in?" Niall asked.

"I don't have that information," the uniform answered solemnly. 

He stayed where he was when the elevator opened.  Harry and Niall stepped out and were alone in a narrow hallway which smelled of cigarettes and sex.  Security cameras tilted down at them and their feet were almost soundless on the worn carpet as they approached 1803.

Niall knocked as Harry held his badge up to the peephole.  When the door didn't open, Niall knocked again, harder.  This time, an irritated voice was heard.

"Oh just bloody fucking come in and stop pounding the bloody door!"

Niall turned the doorknob and walked in with Harry.  The first thing they saw was a man hunched over against a wall.  He had his fingers pressed to his forehead and his eyes shut tight.  His clothes were wrinkled and his tie loose. 

"Cap what are ya..." Niall was cut off by a hand of the Captain quickly coming up, stopping anymore words.  He stayed like that for a solid minute before a small ding was heard somewhere in the apartment.

"Oh, thank fuck," the Captain breathed.  He shakily stood up, balancing himself with his palm to the wall before clumsily taking a few steps and turning into the kitchen.  There was rattling, a moment a silence, and finally a deep sigh of relief.  The Captain came back out to pair from the doorway which he had previously gone through, this time holding a mug with steam coming out of it.

"Rough night?" Niall asked dryly. 

Captain Louis Tomlinson was only 24 when he was made Captain.  He had been at a restaurant when an attempted burglary had occurred.  Louis had been able to stop the assailant without firing a weapon or any casualties by tackling the man.  Someone had been filming on their phone and uploaded it to social media.  Within an hour, it had gone viral.  The previous Captain had just retired and administration had been looking for a replacement.  Pressure from the public and record of Tomlinson led to his appointment.  Louis had never really wanted the job, but found it nearly impossible to refuse.  Only a year as Captain and two large drug gangs had been taken down.  Despite his success, Louis was still very young and enjoyed his youth.  Going out almost every night to bars and indulging in one night stands, it was not uncommon for him to stumble into the department looking worn and washed out. 

When he was cleaned up, he had light brown hair that never seemed to be tidy even when he attempted at it.  It usually looked mousy and rumpled.  His eyes were a light blue and were usually visited by mischievous and sarcastic gleams. He was lanky, like Harry, but shorter.  Despite growing up in the city, his skin was a healthy tan.  Though his chest was toned, it was his arms that showed real strength.  Muscular and impressive biceps were enough to keep drunks from wanting to fight him in bars.  Louis took another sip before answering Niall.

"You would be amazed."

"What've we got?" Harry asked, wanting to get doe to business.

Louis turned and waved his hand for the two to follow him.  They continued down the hall and past the kitchen doorway, where Harry made a mental note to stop at before leaving to steal a cup of coffee for himself.  They ended up in the doorway to a bedroom. 

"I know you both have seen your fair share of death and messes, but...this one is a bit more graphic than any of us are used to.  It's not pretty," Louis said, his free hand on the doorknob.  The detectives nodded, understanding.  With that, he opened the door and led the pair inside.

"Veronica Murphey, the daughter of 'esteemed' public attorney, Albert Murphey," Louis made sure to emphasize the word "esteem" to let it be known just what he thought of the man. 

Niall shrugged, the name meaning nothing to him.  "Na a fookin' clue who dat is."

"Extreme right conservative.  Comes from a family of CEO's and railroad money from back in the 1800s.  Big on making prostitution in any way a felony."  Harry explained as he studied the room.

"And it seems that our victim here took an extreme left turn.  Ran a quick record of her and she's a professional escort."

The two detectives nodded, understanding why the need for the Code 10 had been taken place.  An order must have come in from way upstairs in the public attorney's office to keep this as quiet as possible. 

The apartment itself had a red undertone.  Red and black. It was seductive and cold.  Everything was neat and in its proper place.  To some, it was just seem that the girl was a neat freak.  The décor and coloring led Harry to believe something completely different.  She was a cold and calculating woman, possibly even manipulative.  The colors gave off the personality of someone who knew all too well about her sexuality, how to use it. 

He opened one of the drawers next to the bed and found two books, the sizes of small notebooks.  After flipping through both of them briefly, he was able to determine their purposes.

"Got an address book and a list of clients, beauty and health appointments," he said, holding the books up for Louis.

"Put them in the evidence bags.  We'll have them copied back at the department."  

Harry nodded, packaging the books.

After observing the apartment, Harry turned his attention to the body on the bed. Louis had been right.

It wasn't pretty. Not at all.