FAKE Fic: Another Murder
Title: Another Murder
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ryo, Dee, OCs.
Rating: PG
Setting: After the manga.
Summary: Working serious crimes means there’s always another murder for Dee and Ryo to investigate.
Word Count: 1212
Written For: Theme Prompt: 184 - Murder at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Another week, another murder, another crime scene… The location, the names of the victims, and the manner of their deaths were the only things that ever changed. Ryo wondered vaguely if he was becoming jaded. He hoped not.
“Helluva way to start the work week,” Dee commented, sounding every bit as weary as Ryo felt.
They’d clocked onto their shift barely an hour ago, intending to work on their existing caseload, but they’d only just sat down at their desks when the call had come in, and now here they were, in an alley behind a derelict warehouse, looking at yet another dead body. As if the three homicides they were already working hadn’t been enough.
“Just once it would be nice if we could go a week without having to deal with another murder victim.” Ryo studied the body; he was no longer as shocked by violent death as he had been way back at the beginning of his career in the NYPD, but the senselessness of another life brutally cut short at the hand of person or persons unknown still saddened him. It made him angry too, but he could divert his anger into finding and arresting the killer. The sadness was just a leaden weight to be endured.
“A week?” Dee smiled wryly. “I’d take a day with no suspicious deaths anywhere in the city.”
“Like that’s ever gonna happen. New York City’s a big place, home to over eighteen million people, births and deaths happening around the clock, every day of the year.”
“That’s a depressing thought.”
Ryo glanced at his partner. “The deaths or the births?” There was nothing remotely amusing about murder, but it was no use dwelling on the horrors they witnessed. Finding ways of lightening the mood helped cops maintain some perspective and hold on to their sanity, not that it always worked. A lot of cops simply burned out from seeing too much and feeling that no matter how hard they tried to make the city safer, nothing ever changed.
Dee shrugged. “Both. I pity the poor kids bein’ born into today’s world as much as the people who end up like this; it’s bad enough for us adults. This poor bastard can’t be much more than twenty.”
“Yeah.” Ryo shoved his hands into his coat pockets, hunching his shoulders against a depressingly persistent drizzle. “I noticed. He should be out having fun with his friends, not lying dead in a filthy alleyway.”
“Single gunshot to the chest,” Dee observed. “Not through the heart though; it wouldn’t have been quick. He would’a known he was dyin’.”
“Sometimes I hate this job.” The bitterness in his own voice made Ryo wince.
“Only sometimes?”
“I’ll feel better about it when we catch the bastard who did this.” Ryo moved carefully around the body, disturbing the scene as little as possible. “It wasn’t a robbery. The watch he’s wearing isn’t a cheap one. Not high-end, but still pricey enough, maybe a graduation or birthday gift. The killer didn’t take the victim’s phone either. I’m betting when the body’s examined we’ll find he’s still got his wallet and any credit cards.”
“Doesn’t mean we can entirely rule out money as a motive. Could be blackmail, or a drug deal gone wrong.”
“Always possible.”
“But you don’t think so.” It wasn’t a question.
“No.” Ryo shook his head. “It wasn’t a professional hit either. Centre mass, biggest target, but the first shot missed.” He pointed to a ragged tear in the victim’s sleeve, and then beyond the body. “The shooter was no kind of marksman. I’m betting if we search over there, we’ll find a bullet; maybe two if the one that killed him isn’t still lodged inside him somewhere.” He studied the wound again. “Looks like a small calibre, probably a .38.”
“So what’re you thinkin? Revenge? Crime of passion?”
“Passion isn’t the first thing that comes to mind.” Ryo gave their surroundings a pointed look.
“Not the ideal place for a romantic rendezvous,” Dee agreed.
“Self defence is another possibility.” Hard as it often was to accept, victims of fatal shootings weren’t always innocent.
“In which case we might be lookin’ for a murderer who’s also a victim.” Dee pulled a face; that kind of thing always muddied the waters.
A uniformed officer, one of the patrolmen who’d been first on the scene, appeared at the entrance to the alley. “The meat wagon’s just pullin’ up, coroner will be here in a few minutes.”
Dee nodded. “Good. Sooner we can ID the victim, the better. Once we have a name, we can start lookin’ into who might’a wanted him dead.”
“Good luck with that.” The patrolman dug a stick of gum from his pocket, shoved it in his mouth, and tossed the wrapper.
Ryo’s eyes narrowed and he glared stonily at the younger man. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Huh?”
“Pick that up!”
The patrolman snorted. “Or what, you gonna charge me with litterin’? What’s one more gum wrapper? It’s like a trash heap back here anyway.”
“You’re contaminating a crime scene. The CSIs will be gathering everything up to see if the killer left any evidence behind. You want to become a suspect because your prints were found on a gum wrapper dropped near a body, Officer Bradford?”
Bradford paled. “I didn’t think of that.” Hurriedly he snatched up the wrapper and shoved it in his pocket. “Sorry, detective.”
“You would’a been. Now get outta here.” Dee glared at the thoroughly demoralised young officer as he scurried away. “What’re they teachin’ ‘em at the academy these days?”
Ryo shook his head. “Not sure I want to know.”
“Maybe we should add Officer Bradford to the list of suspects on principle. He was first on the scene,” Dee said with a smirk.
“Don’t even joke about it, Dee.”
“Sorry.” Ambling over to join his partner, Dee briefly rested his hand on Ryo’s shoulder, felt some of the tension drain from his lover at that small gesture. “We’re gonna get the killer.”
“That’s a bit optimistic, isn’t it? We don’t even know who the victim is yet.”
“Doesn’t matter; I know how stubborn you can be. We’ll solve the case because neither one of us is gonna give up until we do, however long it takes.”
Ryo nodded, accepting the truth of that. It was one of the reasons they’d become cops in the first place, to catch the criminals and make the streets of the Big Apple safer for honest folk. “Whose turn is it to notify the victim’s family?”
“Mine. Unless you wanna do it.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Can’t say I blame ya. Hey, maybe we could have Officer Bradford do it, punishment for bein’ careless.”
“The victim’s family don’t deserve that. I know we only just met him, but he doesn’t strike me as the tactful sort.”
“Good point. Guess that means I’m stuck with the job.”
The two detectives moved out the way as the coroner arrived, greeting them with a nod and a brief smile, then crouching beside the body. Hopefully, in a few minutes they’d have a name to work with, along with an approximate time of death.
Murders. No matter how many they solved, there would always be another one.
The End
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ryo, Dee, OCs.
Rating: PG
Setting: After the manga.
Summary: Working serious crimes means there’s always another murder for Dee and Ryo to investigate.
Word Count: 1212
Written For: Theme Prompt: 184 - Murder at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Another week, another murder, another crime scene… The location, the names of the victims, and the manner of their deaths were the only things that ever changed. Ryo wondered vaguely if he was becoming jaded. He hoped not.
“Helluva way to start the work week,” Dee commented, sounding every bit as weary as Ryo felt.
They’d clocked onto their shift barely an hour ago, intending to work on their existing caseload, but they’d only just sat down at their desks when the call had come in, and now here they were, in an alley behind a derelict warehouse, looking at yet another dead body. As if the three homicides they were already working hadn’t been enough.
“Just once it would be nice if we could go a week without having to deal with another murder victim.” Ryo studied the body; he was no longer as shocked by violent death as he had been way back at the beginning of his career in the NYPD, but the senselessness of another life brutally cut short at the hand of person or persons unknown still saddened him. It made him angry too, but he could divert his anger into finding and arresting the killer. The sadness was just a leaden weight to be endured.
“A week?” Dee smiled wryly. “I’d take a day with no suspicious deaths anywhere in the city.”
“Like that’s ever gonna happen. New York City’s a big place, home to over eighteen million people, births and deaths happening around the clock, every day of the year.”
“That’s a depressing thought.”
Ryo glanced at his partner. “The deaths or the births?” There was nothing remotely amusing about murder, but it was no use dwelling on the horrors they witnessed. Finding ways of lightening the mood helped cops maintain some perspective and hold on to their sanity, not that it always worked. A lot of cops simply burned out from seeing too much and feeling that no matter how hard they tried to make the city safer, nothing ever changed.
Dee shrugged. “Both. I pity the poor kids bein’ born into today’s world as much as the people who end up like this; it’s bad enough for us adults. This poor bastard can’t be much more than twenty.”
“Yeah.” Ryo shoved his hands into his coat pockets, hunching his shoulders against a depressingly persistent drizzle. “I noticed. He should be out having fun with his friends, not lying dead in a filthy alleyway.”
“Single gunshot to the chest,” Dee observed. “Not through the heart though; it wouldn’t have been quick. He would’a known he was dyin’.”
“Sometimes I hate this job.” The bitterness in his own voice made Ryo wince.
“Only sometimes?”
“I’ll feel better about it when we catch the bastard who did this.” Ryo moved carefully around the body, disturbing the scene as little as possible. “It wasn’t a robbery. The watch he’s wearing isn’t a cheap one. Not high-end, but still pricey enough, maybe a graduation or birthday gift. The killer didn’t take the victim’s phone either. I’m betting when the body’s examined we’ll find he’s still got his wallet and any credit cards.”
“Doesn’t mean we can entirely rule out money as a motive. Could be blackmail, or a drug deal gone wrong.”
“Always possible.”
“But you don’t think so.” It wasn’t a question.
“No.” Ryo shook his head. “It wasn’t a professional hit either. Centre mass, biggest target, but the first shot missed.” He pointed to a ragged tear in the victim’s sleeve, and then beyond the body. “The shooter was no kind of marksman. I’m betting if we search over there, we’ll find a bullet; maybe two if the one that killed him isn’t still lodged inside him somewhere.” He studied the wound again. “Looks like a small calibre, probably a .38.”
“So what’re you thinkin? Revenge? Crime of passion?”
“Passion isn’t the first thing that comes to mind.” Ryo gave their surroundings a pointed look.
“Not the ideal place for a romantic rendezvous,” Dee agreed.
“Self defence is another possibility.” Hard as it often was to accept, victims of fatal shootings weren’t always innocent.
“In which case we might be lookin’ for a murderer who’s also a victim.” Dee pulled a face; that kind of thing always muddied the waters.
A uniformed officer, one of the patrolmen who’d been first on the scene, appeared at the entrance to the alley. “The meat wagon’s just pullin’ up, coroner will be here in a few minutes.”
Dee nodded. “Good. Sooner we can ID the victim, the better. Once we have a name, we can start lookin’ into who might’a wanted him dead.”
“Good luck with that.” The patrolman dug a stick of gum from his pocket, shoved it in his mouth, and tossed the wrapper.
Ryo’s eyes narrowed and he glared stonily at the younger man. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Huh?”
“Pick that up!”
The patrolman snorted. “Or what, you gonna charge me with litterin’? What’s one more gum wrapper? It’s like a trash heap back here anyway.”
“You’re contaminating a crime scene. The CSIs will be gathering everything up to see if the killer left any evidence behind. You want to become a suspect because your prints were found on a gum wrapper dropped near a body, Officer Bradford?”
Bradford paled. “I didn’t think of that.” Hurriedly he snatched up the wrapper and shoved it in his pocket. “Sorry, detective.”
“You would’a been. Now get outta here.” Dee glared at the thoroughly demoralised young officer as he scurried away. “What’re they teachin’ ‘em at the academy these days?”
Ryo shook his head. “Not sure I want to know.”
“Maybe we should add Officer Bradford to the list of suspects on principle. He was first on the scene,” Dee said with a smirk.
“Don’t even joke about it, Dee.”
“Sorry.” Ambling over to join his partner, Dee briefly rested his hand on Ryo’s shoulder, felt some of the tension drain from his lover at that small gesture. “We’re gonna get the killer.”
“That’s a bit optimistic, isn’t it? We don’t even know who the victim is yet.”
“Doesn’t matter; I know how stubborn you can be. We’ll solve the case because neither one of us is gonna give up until we do, however long it takes.”
Ryo nodded, accepting the truth of that. It was one of the reasons they’d become cops in the first place, to catch the criminals and make the streets of the Big Apple safer for honest folk. “Whose turn is it to notify the victim’s family?”
“Mine. Unless you wanna do it.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Can’t say I blame ya. Hey, maybe we could have Officer Bradford do it, punishment for bein’ careless.”
“The victim’s family don’t deserve that. I know we only just met him, but he doesn’t strike me as the tactful sort.”
“Good point. Guess that means I’m stuck with the job.”
The two detectives moved out the way as the coroner arrived, greeting them with a nod and a brief smile, then crouching beside the body. Hopefully, in a few minutes they’d have a name to work with, along with an approximate time of death.
Murders. No matter how many they solved, there would always be another one.
The End