Noire: Detective of L.A.

Noire: Detective of L.A. Part 1

Noire: Detective of L.A.

Chapter 1: Upon Reflection, Part 1

Los Angeles. The city on the verge of greatness. A new type of city, based not on the man, but on the automobile. The car, symbol of freedom and vitality. Where every man can own his own home and have room to breathe and not be overlooked by his neighbors. A city where a man's home is his castle. A quarter acre of the dream made possible by the victory. A city of opportunists. A city of dreams where Hollywood will shape the thoughts and desires of the entire planet. A city of pioneers. A city of dreamers. A city of undercurrents, where not everything is as it seems. A twentieth century city that will become a model for the world. A city that has no boundaries, that will stretch as far as the eye can see.

In the Marine Corps, you deal with a chain of command. Mistakes get made, but you deal with them. You know what you're fighting for and that you're on the same team. But dealing with corruption is like chasing shadows. You never know if the guy you're talking to is on the pad, or whether it's your partner, or maybe even the watch commander. So who do you trust Noire? I made up my mind a long time ago.

"KGPL, calling car 14 Adam, come in 14 Adam." Mark Noire reached over to answer the dispatch call. "Go ahead KGPL." "14 Adam, see the detective, ambulance shooting at Sixth and Industrial Street." the radio buzzed. "Unit 16 William requests uniformed assistance for evidence search. 14 Adam, Code 2." "Roger KGPL. 14 Adam en route."

Noire put down the radio and started to drive. "Here we go again. They don't request uniforms for an evidence search unless there's some kind of catch." his partner commented.

"Ever the optimist, Beckowski." replied Noire.

"From the beam of sunshine himself. Take a left here, Noire"

Noire parked his patrol car next to the alleyway. As he and Beckowski approached the scene, a figure strolled up to them. "Floyd Rose. Homicide. You guys my backup?"

"Yessir. Noire and Beckowski, Willshire division." replied Noire.

"Okay. The shooting took place down this alley. We have the vic, Scooter Peyton, a Negro male, bagged up and on his way to Central Morgue. Witness says a tall white male, our shooter, put two bullets in the vic's head, then threw his piece. I need you guys to recover the gat."

"Should we look anywhere in particular, Detective?"

"Give it your best shot guys. The dead guy's a lowlife. I'm not expecting any miracles here."

"And if we recover the weapon?"

"Bag it and return it to Technical Services!"

"Would you hurry it up, Floyd? We got places to be." a fat character called from a car.

"I'm outta here guys. Happy hunting." he said, strolling towards the car.

"This is just a first hump, Noire. just going through the motions." said Beckowski.

"You're right. Let's just get this over with."

"Alright Noire, have it your way. We'll search right up to the back wall. Jesus Christ, look at all this junk! It's not my job to go digging through people's trash!"

"I wouldn't call it all trash, Beckowski. Come take a look at this. Look at the blood. Shooter must've put him against the wall, and blew his brains out." speculated Noire.

"Jesus, one hell of a way to go, huh?"

"Doesn't really matter how, once you're gone."

"Don't get all deep on me, Noire."

Noire said nothing, but continued to search for the gun. He looked up towards the dark expanding sky. In the corner of his eye, he saw something on an open story window. He squinted, trying to get a better look.

"Mike, there's something on the rooftop..."

"How the hell did you see that?"

"Reflection in the upper window. It looks like it might be our weapon. I'm gonna try and find a way up there."

"Alright. Don't hurt yourself Noire."

Noire saw a drain pipe on the side of the building and started to climb. When he got to the top, he saw the gun a few feet away. "Smith and Wesson. Serial S718920." he remarked, opening the bullet chamber. "Two rounds fired, and instead of dropping it down the drain, out shooter hoists it up here. Interesting guy... Beckowski! We should follow up on this, before the perp tries to leave town."

"We have the gun, Noire. Let's just take it back to Central. We could get a commendation for this."

"We can show some initiative, Mike, and try to come up with an owner."

"That's a long shot, Noire."

"It's a pretty fancy gun. You know any local gun stores?"

"Sure. There's one a few blocks from here. Hey, you sure about this? This isn't really our gig."

"There's no harm in doing a little digging. The suits didn't seem to give much of a damn anyways."

"Such a little boy scout, Noire. You can't wait to get out of that uniform, can you?"

"Ha, you'd rather round up drunks, and help old ladies cross the road?", Noire retorted.

Beckowski laughed. "I'd rather get through my day without the Captain's foot up my ass."

"It'll be fine, Mike. You worry too much."

They got into the patrol car, and drove towards the store.