Mr. Smith

1: Mr. Smith

Manhattan, night

Lieutenant Cassidy Walters was walking with an awe-inspiring gait as she strutted through the halls of the NYPD. She'd finally closed her hardest case of the week and had her eyes on the prize: payday. She was young, beautiful, and had a work ethic and drive that outdid a vast majority of her department. Some said she had it "made." Others called her cold and heartless, as she was constantly calculating her next move and never showed sympathy for the killers she put away; the only decoration on her desk was a single plaque engraved with the phrase, "You Have Eyes in the Front of Your Head to Look Forwards Towards the Future, Not Backwards into the Past." Her colleagues supposed it was inspirational, but she always had the tendency to take it too literally.

"Walters," Captain Jameson greeted jovially as Cassidy approached his office. "There's my favorite leader of my homicide squad!" Cassidy smirked shyly as she dragged the unsteady gray chair towards the Captain's desk. She sat down, pushing a blonde strand of hair out of her face and tucking it carefully behind her ear. Her hairstyle was highly impractical for her job, but it was a luxury she allowed herself to have. "What do ya got for me today?"

"We got the guy responsible for the homicide on Bowery." She was assigned to the case just a day before. "The motive was obvious; it was just another unhappy husband and a bitchy wife with a nice life insurance policy." She shrugged, fiddling her thumbs in an uneasy, "gotta keep moving" manner. "What was really difficult was just tracking the bastard down. I put a few rookies on it to see what they're made of."

Jameson scratched his chin. "How were they?"

"Pussies." She couldn't stand newbies. They just got in the way of her investigations— always asking questions, getting "hunches," and thinking they're special because they graduated at the top of their class. Some people have to work for it, she'd thought. I sure as Hell didn't pay my way through the Academy. "Half of them threw up as soon as they saw the cadaver."

Jameson modded, unsurprised by Cassidy's explanation. "How bad was it?"

"A few stab wounds never hurt anybody." Cassidy paused. "Except for the victim, maybe. But that's beyond the point."

"You know, Walters, you never cease to amaze me." She was anything but flattered. She was just doing her job. It's what she got paid to do. Believe it or not, but she loved to do what she did. Sure, the cases were grim, but bringing justice to the assholes that think it's okay to break the law satisfied her. For what she lacked in overall moral values, she made up for in the form of amazing work ethic. "You ready for your next assignment?"

"Why else would I be here?" Cassidy answered, a combination of sass and unamusememt clear in her tone.

Jameson shrugged. "Because you just wanted to see me that badly?" Not even a hint of a smile was traceable on Cassidy's face. She wouldn't have it. Jameson sighed. "A string of homicides we think are linked. Start on 34th by Penn Station and work your way all the way up to the corner of 40th and 10th." Cassidy was already mapping it out on her small notepad. "Go get 'em, tiger."

"I'll have it solved by noon tomorrow." Her no-nonsense attitude was obvious as she stood up and began a brisk walk towards the office door. She was ready to leave but was interrupted by Jameson barking her name.

"Walters!"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Just... do me a favor." Jameson was shaking his head and taking slow breathes in as he stared down at his desk. "Try to take it easy. At least get some sleep."

Cassidy's movements were borderline robotic as she pushed open Jameson's door. "You know that I can't promise you anything, Michael."

All he was able to do was watch her walk away, throwing on her coat and heading out into the streets of a cold, dark, unfeeling Manhattan.