The Book of Midnight - A Percival Blackwood Casefile

Ch. 3 - The Varying Degrees of Blue

I made my way back to the car with nothing more than my hackles raised and a slight limp from my bout with the Studebaker a few moments before and climbed in.  The Studebaker won that round, but I wasn't out for the count just yet.  Besides, as soon as I'd seen those sparks, I knew I'd gotten a good lick in.  After taking a moment to catch my breath I started the Caddy up and made my way to Police HQ up in north-central.  On the way there I kept my eyes on the rearview mirror.  I had no intention of being caught off guard like that again and that included being followed.  

A short time later I arrived at the Police HQ and parked in the civilian parking lot located in a side alley just off the main thoroughfare.  Once inside, I made my way into the lobby and strolled on up to the Desk Sergeant's counter.  Sergeant Alfonso McMurphy and I locked eyes for a brief moment before he rolled his to accompany his overly dramatic sigh of exasperation.  

"Whadda ya need Sheamus?" he asked with about as much flavor as a glass of water.

"Hey Al, I'm so glad you're here. I rushed all the way over because I have a very important question for you..." I said conspiratorially, lowering my voice and looking left and right to avoid being heard by anyone else.

His already large brown eyes grew larger at hearing this and he leaned in close on the countertop, softly asking "Yea?  Well, what is it?  And it's Sgt McMurphy ta you."

"Well Al, I've been wondering this for quite a while now and I'm positive that you're the only one who can help me answer this..." I quietly said as I leaned back in his direction so that from a distance, we no doubt looked like two school kids sharing a secret.

"Oh? Me?" He asked surprised, turning slightly pink with embarrassment.  I now had him caught on the hook.  It was time to reel this oversized catfish in.

"I was just wondering, who did you get that glorious mustache from?  Your old man or your mother?" I said with no hint of sarcasm.

Sgt. McMurphy stared blankly at me a few moments before the meaning of my question settled in.  In the span of a single heartbeat, that delicate shade of pink he'd been developing turned to a fire-engine red.  He stood straight up and put his hand on his baton which he'd had looped into his belt, as he began yelling at me.  What he said is irrelevant, but let's just say that had there been a priest nearby, he would've most definitely felt the need to begin an exorcism after hearing the venomous torrent of words spewing out of the Sgt's mouth.  He was causing such a ruckus that everyone in the room was looking at him sideways, cops and criminals alike.  It was about this moment that a door to one of the offices near the back of the room came flying open and a scalp of shock white hair poked out looking around angrily.  Lt. Warren had finally graced us with his appearance.

"MCMURPHY!  What the hell is your problem?  I'm on the phone with the mayor and all I hear out here is you braying like a damn donkey!"

At the sight of his superior, McMurphy shut his trap and turned from me to the Lt. with a look of wounded pride.  He stuck his finger in my face accusatorily "Aww Loo-tenant, I got all flabbergasted because this Sheamus here is making comments about my dear, sweet mother." Apparently, not only did McMurphy do a great braying donkey impression, but he also did a fantastic impression of a whining puppy dog as well.