We all need help | s a w

one

Detective offices were always so bleak. White painted walls, standardized brown desks with drawers full of the same beige file folders. The clock hanging on the wall always ticked in a way that could cause a person physical pain. They went by slower than what they should. If the officer would be so lucky, maybe there would be some photographs. A spouse, a child, or maybe a picture of a pet. Homicide detective Kailey Stuart's office was the same, indefinitely. Though, it was not decorated with any pictures but one: a photograph of her and her partners. She hated her office. It was so quiet in there, lonely even. She would much rather study in the board office where they held their meetings, or with a partner. She worked well alone, but hated the silence.

In New York, the Metropolitan Police Department was the largest division of criminal justice in the area, with branches surrounding the large state. The building was filled with over three hundred police officers, detectives, and criminal and forensic investigators. The town was mostly quiet but crawled with low grade criminal activity. Serial murder cases arrived scarcely in the year of 2006. Many murder cases were ruled as a single homicide with no repetitive intention. Though, that didn't last long. Soon, a plethora of confusing, meticulously planned out kidnapping and homicide cases had struck. They all were to the same nature, with a goal of 'soul cleansing' and reformation of victims.

Detective Stuart had been assigned to the study. She specialized in serial murder and homicide. Originally, she did not intended to specialize, but had been promoted before leaving her hometown in Chicago. She had solved an inconspicuous murder pattern involving a killer who murdered prostitutes and the destitute. His murders spanned from the years of 1993-1999. Her work identified him and her evidence incarcerated him for the remainder of his life. Her promotion to detective was issued in 1999.

Kailey began her journey at 17, freshly graduated. She went to the University of Chicago and majored in criminology. She graduated early at 20 years of age, and immediately entered her police training in 1994. 4 years later, after her work and dedication in the investigation, and assistance in off cases in the surrounding areas, she was deemed a candidate for promotion. When the case was solved, and over with in 1999, they awarded her with the achievement. At 25 years, she was one of the youngest homicide detectives in the area at the time. Now 32, in the year of 2006, she was working from New York City. Her age was young, and the department did not take to it so well at first. She had 12 years of experience in police work, and they grew to see how good of an officer she really was.

After her promotion in Chicago, she was reassigned duty in New York. She packed up her bags and left. She had no family ties holding her back, as her father was absent and her mother had died of illness shortly after she graduated University. Her brother was doing his own work in medical studies. She did not know that he would soon follow her to New York, to finish his post secondary at NYU in 2001. He was 5 years younger than her. She valued him so highly, much more than her own life. He was more of a best friend than her brother.

Everything was well. She adored her new job at Metropolitan Police department. Her brother was doing his residency as a surgeon in a nearby hospital. Life was good. She did not have anyone else in her life aside from her partners. She didn't have time for much of a social life. She worked constantly. She was one of few serial murder specialists in the office, so with the new cases of murder, she was too dedicated to leave her post.

Beside her office was detective Mark Hoffman's, on the other side, was an office usually occupied by two: Detective Allison Carrie's room, and the man usually with her, Eric Matthews. She knew something was going on between them, and apparently his wife did too. This was the cause of his impending divorce, she could only assume. Matthews was a hot-head. He was angry often, vindictive, violent and upfront. He was likable to her, though. He was kind when it came to helping her. Carrie was a bit obsessive when it came to the nature of this murderer they were working on. Kailey often saw her leaving the office with evidence files and tapes. Carrie was at every crime scene along with her, and few others.

The first case that was called to their attention was a man trapped in a cage of barbed wire. There was a tape left a the scene with severe auditory distortion that had stated that the man had harmed himself. The perpetrator demanded knowledge on this behalf, struggling to understand if it was because he wanted to die, or because he wanted attention. In a twisted turn of events on the victim, he was meant to fight his way through the wire to prove he wanted to live. The door on the cage was across from him. There was a digital clock on the wall. The tape said that the man had until three o'clock to escape the wire or the door to the room would lock forever, not allowing him to freedom. When the police unit arrived on scene, they had to destroy the locking mechanism on the heavy, metal door to enter. Inside they found the man, still trapped in wire. He was dead, and had been for a while. The smell was pungent, and the body showed signs of early decay.

The police were surprised that the man had made it as far as he did. He had lacerations covering his body, showing them that he had fought hard, and aggressively through the trap. The cage was large, maybe six by eight feet. It was completely filled with wire. Despite his efforts, the man had not been fast enough, and the door had locked. He gave up, and bled out. After the initial inspection the swat was ordered in. Upon arrival, they were instructed to cut the body out. The room was dusted for prints, but nothing was found. They had found a smaller room off to the side with little evidence. It was littered with some off brand tools like a hammer, some wrenches, and some more wire. There was no indication of a solid suspect at the time.

The police investigated the room and the man. The body was sent for an autopsy. There, they were shown there were traces of an anesthetic in his tissues. There was no foul play indicated on the body aside from the damage caused by the wire. The police were at a dead end. The only evidence they had was the tape. To reverse the distortion and match a voice would prove to be difficult, as they did not have a name to match the voice to.

So in the board room she sat. The empty space was filled with chairs. The office was dark outside the room. Many of the others had already left for the night. There was an eerie silence in the building. she couldn't help but check over her shoulder to ensure she wasn't being watched. Her body was tired from sitting in an office chair for hours. Her neck ached. She sighed and stood, taking a final look at the papers littering the otherwise empty desk. Her fifth cup of coffee for the day was circling the bottom of the mug. When she finally made the move to walk, she had to stop herself. She let her body stretch and her body snapped and cracked, letting her move freely without any stiffness. She rubbed her face as she gathered up the files, then picked up a developed photo from the desk.

The photo contained the only clue they had right now. A jigsaw puzzle piece was cut from the body of the man. It was cut with a surgical grade steel knife. It was only a flesh wound, but no deeper than a centimeter, maybe less. She stared into the photograph and clenched her jaw. If only they could find something. A hair, a missed print, anything. The opening of the room's door shook her focus. She jumped and dropped the paper. It landed on the ground gracefully. She looked up into a pair of humored eyes.

"Mark," She started. "What are you still doing here?" She said as she bent over to grab the picture.

"I could ask you the same thing." He laughed subtly.

"I was on my way home." She scratched at her blonde hair. The tight ponytail it was in was starting to give her a headache.

"It looked like you were staring at the same picture, for five minutes." He challenged.

"You were watching me for five minutes?" She questioned the tall man that was now standing in front of her.

"No, just a lucky guess. You catching a cab home?" He played the conversation off.

"Yeah, I was just going to call." She was pissed off, her car had broke down that morning and was being repaired.

"Don't bother. Grab your stuff, I'll take you." She debated it in her head and gave a shrug. Mark was usually quiet, cracked a joke seldom, and shuffled around the office with his head down. He didn't look to be interested in making friends. she had no idea why he was offering her a sudden kindness, but she took it gratefully.

"Okay, thanks, Mark." She said gently as she stuffed the files into her bag. She slung the strap over her shoulder and followed him out the door. She clicked off the light to the board room and shut the door.