The Cases of George Alpha #1 - Cupcakes

Spirit Central

Nobody ever really died in the city. When you died, your spirit left your body and flowed back to the waiting room at Spirit Central, where it sat until reincarnated in some other physical shell. When and how reincarnation happened depended largely on the arrangements you had made up front. 

If you were rich and able to afford a premium reincarnation insurance, you were back walking around in your body within a couple of days. On the other hand, if you were dead poor, you would be put on the free slot Queue and your spirit could be kept at Central for decades, unless you won the Lottery.

Most people just wanted to come back in a new installment of the same body, continuing life as if they had never died. Some opted for a spirit wipe, starting an entirely new life, either as a child or an adult. If you truly had financial means, you could even opt for a completely new body, including a sex change. Reincarnation was serious business and there were a lot of packages out there. Of course, it was all tracked and overseen by the city administration.

I arrived at Spirit Central shortly before lunch, walking up the stairs to the reception desk. Spirit Central was open 24/7 with somebody manning the reception at all times, though only police business happened at night. The day shift was usually handled by Henry - whose last name I never learned, who was already greeting me as I approached.

'Good morning George, who can I get for you today?'

Down to business, as usual, Henry was my kind of guy.

'I'm looking for a recent arrival, name unknown, someone who would have come in early this morning, I think around seven.'

'Let's see,' Henry said, starting to type on the computer. 'Ah, you're lucky, I only got a single arrival at that time, a man named Duncan Freight. Does not appear to have any type of insurance whatsoever.'

'Yep, that'll be the one. Can you bring him up?'

'Sure thing George, I'll put him in room one. Be aware though, he hasn't been processed yet.'

Shit. That meant he probably didn't know he was dead.

'Ah well,' I sighed, 'let me be the bearer of bad news.'

I nodded to Henry and walked to spirit room one. Spirit rooms were where people went to talk with loved ones that had passed away but couldn't reincarnate yet. After all, it was not because you were dead that you couldn't talk. For policemen they were quite useful as well, to question victims or witnesses, post-mortem. I've always found spirit rooms awkward however, something about talking to a black oblong speaker attached to a wall feels a bit... impersonal. I entered the room, sat down at the table and leaned back, waiting for my spirit to arrive.

Ding

The light above the speaker went green.

'Eh... hello? Is anybody there?' a voice sounded. 'Where am I?'

'Yes, hello sir. My name is detective George Alpha, I am from the city police department.'

'Ah shit...' the voice said, followed by several seconds of silence. 'I'm dead, right?'

'Yes, I'm afraid so.'

More silence, then realization dawned.

'They shot me. Some bastard shot me!'

'I'm sorry, sir, that is why I'm here, I'm looking into your murder.'

'Somebody shot me because I stole a bag of bread!'

'Actually it was cupcakes.'

'Cupcakes?'

'The bag, it held cupcakes, not bread.'