A STUDY IN BLACK ✓

IV

Josh didn't believe Tyler at first when he said that he'd gotten him a job with the police force as a sketch artist. He went back to his apartment- the whole place was ransacked, some of his clothes and half finished art project were even missing- and believed the whole situation was over. The next day, however, Tyler was at his door with a bloody harpoon and a potato sack full of gold.

It's hard to say no when a madman with a niche for chasing down assassins into civilian's apartment buildings is brandishing a harpoon at your doorstep and asking you to work with him.

The first crime Josh was helping with was a suicide by jumping that Tyler was convinced to be the acts of a serial killer. Apparently, there had been five identical suicides in several different high buildings. There was no correlation between the victims or buildings except the fact that their stomachs were all full of rare, indigested flower petals.

"So, what exactly do I do as a sketch artist?" Josh asked for the tenth time since they left the hotel. Dallon was driving him and Tyler to the crime scene in a police, with both of them in the backseat.

"You can take sketches of the crime scene, the body, take notes on how to be a proper investigator like yours truly, draw my gorgeous-"

"You just take statements from witnesses and create a portrait for any suspicious persons," Dallon interrupted Tyler, who only grinned and tossed a handful of sour candies into his mouth.

Josh nodded, staring at the sketch pad and pencil he'd brought along. He'd been mindlessly drawing Tyler the whole time, and though it was only half finished, it was recognizably him.

"Nice," Tyler said, barely glancing over. "I always thought I had an impeccable profile."

Josh rolled his eyes but continued to shade in where Tyler's neck met the collar of his coat. "I like to draw people around me for practice. It keeps me pretty well versed on realism, especially now that I'm a- a sketch artist?"

Tyler nodded. "For an international consulting detective and his police chief sidekick." Dallon snorted at the last remark.

Josh rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Jesus. How did I get here?"

Dallon flicked his cigarette out of the window. "I ask myself the same question every day, pal."

"I'm not anything special," Josh said, trying to see if Tyler or Dallon would change their minds and drop him back off at his apartment. "I mean, I'm just a graphic designer for kid's books-"

"'A pretty shoddy one at that," Tyler mumbled. Dallon shot him a look through the rear view mirror before Josh continued.

"-and there are probably more experienced people who could fill in this job just as well as me."

"Don't worry," Dallon took out another cigarette and stuck it in his mouth. "From what your professors say, you're one of the best artists in the state."

Josh choked. "You talked to my professors? But why? I'm not even a fine arts major!"

"Background check." Tyler chewed on one corner or his thumbnail. "Why would a twenty two year old with a major in psychology and minor in graphic design, who changed their major three times within a single semester and was honorably discharged within two years of service after being shot in the right arm and left leg, twice in the leg, be so willing to work with the police after someone like me breaks into their apartment with a paid serial killer?"

Josh opened his mouth to ask him just how the hell he knew about his shoulder- not even his own estranged mother knew about his injury- but Tyler waved it off before he could utter a word.