[Log] Ichigo Kurosaki, Toushirou Hitsugaya (body arc)
Title: Body in the Alley
Characters: Ichigo Kurosaki (davyn), Toushirou Hitsugaya (kellenanne)
Timeline: April 18, 1950
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Toushirou and Hitsugaya discover Bynes body in an alley.
As the division's captain, In fact, it was rather expected that he'd be the one at the desk, compiling reports and making things just right for the District Attorney's office. It wasn't really in Toushirou's job description to walk a beat or respond to calls (unless, of course, it could be a case with some powerful movers and shakers behind it; then he was basically ordered to make an appearance). That didn't mean, however, that Toushirou had ever been able to wash his hands entirely of some of the grunt work. He could still process a scene, still had a sharp eye for evidence left behind, and, above all, a desire to be right in the middle of it all.
He had never sat on the sidelines well at all, and his desk was about as far removed from the streets as possible. He hated to be bogged down in paperwork and, despite the inherent malevolence present in such scenes; it was refreshing to be on-site.
In this case, though, he'd only been trying to go home and when it came right down to it, the scene was on his route between the precinct and his apartment. He had taken all of two seconds to decide to stop on his way: when it came down to having to detour to get home past a dead body, he might as well stop. Toushirou settled his gun in its holster and pulled the jacket from the car: the chill twilight had a bit of a bite. He was straightening the jacket as he walked into the scene.
Such a typical crime scene: cops milling about, bystanders gawking where they shouldn't be, and just a general sense of organized chaos. He supposed that, given the situation, the sense of normalcy it gave was the best he could hope for. He didn't see anyone there from his department yet, but that could simple be because there were so many people around. Once one of his people showed up, he'd foist off the case to them and head off for some dinner. Until then, he might as well get to work.
The alley that was taped off was narrow, one of the ones that remained dark even in mid-day. Toushirou made his way through the gawkers, rolling his eyes as he shoved at elbows and shoulders. Damned people were nothing but nuisances; he never understood their fascination with the morbid. Understanding was beyond him, how they flocked to a scene and speculated and pointed and got in the way. These scenes were only proof of the ugly side of humanity and they wanted to gawk? It made no sense.
He ducked under the crime scene tape, stalwartly ignoring the sundry eyes on him. They weren't worth his time, not unless one of them actually saw something and he was willing to bet not one of them actually had anything to sing about. Real witnesses would have fled by now, in his experience. He could see the tell-tale heap of clothing already - for some reason, in his eyes, once dead a person seemed to lose all that made them human; they became nothing more than some sort of strange lump of flesh - and he approached slowly, taking in everything he could see.
Not that this alley was any different than any other: messy there by the small dumpster, a couple doors into the buildings, a faraway exit, a fire escape that looked like it had rusted into place long ago. Nothing especially dirty, nothing especially clean. Toushirou hated that, hated walking into a scene that didn't stand out to him.
He turned his attention to the body, ignoring the uniforms near it for the moment. Carefully avoiding the congealing blood on the ground, he crossed to the other side of the body. No matter how inhuman it seemed to him, they had a face, and it was his job to identify them. He held no illusions about giving them justice; they were dead, but their killers deserved it.
He crouched, wrists resting on his knees, and saw the man's face clearly. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Larry Bynes.
Goddamn it.
Ichigo had no idea how he kept getting assigned to these side cases by himself. He had a partner, damnit. Where the fuck was she? If he was going to get called into overtime then by god so was she. Except there was no little princess running around the crime scene yelling orders in her typical fashion which meant they hadn’t bothered to call her out here.
Fuck that. He was going to yell about that tomorrow, as it was it was all he could do to keep hold of his cup of coffee and make it under the giant ‘do not cross’ yellow band of doom. He swallowed the last of it hurriedly and dropped the cup off in some rookie’s hands with orders to throw it away. He wasn’t exactly late, he had been eating dinner - but it had taken him a bit longer than he had anticipated getting himself down to this particular scene.
Damn there were too many people trying to peer over the sides and see what was going on. That was not going to work; they were probably treading on evidence. He flagged down some panicked looking individual and grabbed their arm when they barely noticed him.
“You,” he motioned to the people, “get them moving out of here unless they say something helpful got it? If they saw something, take their statement.” He paused to let that sink into his brain. “Otherwise they don’t need to be here.” All these people were practically screaming ‘incident waiting to happen’ and that was the last thing he wanted to deal with. Get them cleared out, get the area secure, and then go see what physical evidence he had to deal with on this one.
A familiar smallish man appeared at his elbow and Ichigo glanced down at him, letting the kid he had grabbed go, watching him out of the corner of his eye to make sure he was going in the right direction. He blinked down at the guy next to him and frowned. Damnit what was this guy’s name? Andrew? Alex?
“Kurosaki sir,” he squeaked and Ichigo blinked. Aiden? No… AJ maybe it was AJ. Where was Rukia? Keeping track of names was her job not his.
“What?” He was going to have to request official name tags for the new guys.
“We have one dead body; though I have not been able to examine it closely, it appears to be one gun shot wound to the head.” Ichigo nodded absently, gun shot wound to the head? He glanced towards the alley that had the most guards and sighed. Right, okay, the chances of it being the same sort of gunshot were very slim, but he would go look in a second.
“All right. Coroner's office?”
“They're on their way, sir.”
He nodded. “Good - go help that kid get the people back.” He turned and headed towards the Alley. One dead body, gunshot wound to the head? In a dark alley in the middle of nowhere - poor sap. Dying by himself in an alley was not the most pleasant way to, not that he got to see too many of those in this line of work.
He paused at the edge of the alley and blinked. What was Captain Midget doing here? He was pretty sure that captains didn’t do the grunt work, they did the paperwork. He sighed and moved forward. The shorter man pinched his nose and Ichigo blinked at him before blinking at the body and shrugged. Maybe he forgot what blood and death smelled like? God knew that one was hard to do, but maybe he had managed it somehow. Strange things happened to you when you became a pencil pusher.
He flipped open his notepad and scribbled his notes for a second, otherwise writing his report later would be half of a bitch. Writing it down now while it was fresh in his head would keep Rukia from kicking him under their desks for ‘not using his head’.
“Gun shot wound to the head,” he said. “Haven’t heard that we have much of an ID on the body though. Is there a wallet lying around or anything?”
If the captain was going to kneel on the ground next to the body to examine it, he wasn't going to tell him how to do his job. Just... make sure he didn't forget anything important.
Like ID'ing the body.
Toushirou looked up sharply at Kurosaki's comment. Yes, he knew it was a gunshot wound to the head. The damned hole was staring him in the face; never mind he'd been somewhat fixated on it, growling under his breath about stool pigeons who didn't know when to fly.
And, honestly, he wasn't a button new to the beat. He fixed the kid with a look. Look for a wallet and all that; he knew. He also knew who the man was and looking for that wallet would just be an afterthought.
Toushirou stood, facing Kurosaki, and raising an eyebrow. He knew what these detectives thought of his desk job; thought he didn't remember what it was like on the streets or couldn't remember how to process a scene. Let them think it. The minute they treated him like he didn't know anything, though, and he'd have them cleaning the precinct's toilets so fast they're head would spin.
"Larry Bynes," he announced. He gave the body another perusal, affirming his original estimate. "Twelve to fifteen since the shot, I'd say." Rigor gave it that, and the alley wouldn't see much action in early morning hours. Toushirou had talked to Bynes near midnight the night before, so that narrowed things down quite a bit.
He snorted at the eyebrow. Right, the intimidation factor - whatever. Captain Midget wasn’t going to be getting him crawling on the ground because of an eyebrow.
“You knew him then?” he questioned, glancing around. He didn’t see any ID which meant the captain was going off visual ID, maybe. He could speculate a little bit, black wallets were a bitch to find in the dark. He shrugged and knelt down a little bit, eyeing the body.
Twelve to fifteen hours made sense. Would have to get a liver reading at the morgue to confirm that but… he had been here for a while, enough so that they didn’t have to wonder if any of the people around the area were witnesses.
“AJ,” he barked, turning a bit, “why are those people still there?” They weren’t witnesses and that meant they weren’t useful. He turned his attention back to the body when the little man jumped.
“Have you looked for casings yet?” If they got lucky there would be one, if they didn’t - well worse things had happened. He glanced at the body. That guy should know.
Knew him? Toushirou snorted. As much contact as he'd had with the man, he might be able to claim he'd known him. However, Toushirou wasn't all that keen on knowing him. Bynes was no man he'd want to spend any time with, really. "He had information," he said, glancing down at Bynes again. Information now that couldn't be used unless he found evidence to support it. Bynes had been his evidence, but a dead man didn't carry any weight in court.
Damn it.
He shook his head and looked back to Kurosaki. Damn kid was annoying, making it sound like he didn't know a damn thing about processing a scene. "Just got here myself." So, no, no casings. Nothing yet.
Probably wouldn't find a damn thing anyway.
Ichigo nodded. That was good, not that he didn’t trust the Captain, just that he would have much rather done the looking himself. He turned and glanced at Bynes and the splatter behind his head. If he was a bullet… well that was where he would be. He grimaced a bit. He hated looking for bullets in brain matter. He settled his notepad back into his pocket and kneeled carefully beside the worst of the brain matter. He fumbled for a moment but managed to fish his flashlight out of his belt without dropping it into the stuff and flipped it on. The back of Bynes head was a mess so he doubted that the bullet had made it as far as the wall.
“I will see if I can find the bullet,” he told Toushirou, just in case he hadn’t guessed what he was doing. If they were going to build any sort of a case they were going to need whatever they had. Right now that didn’t look like much. “The coroner should be here to take pictures and examine the body soon,” he glanced over at him. Most captains had this thing about appearing like they were in complete control at all times, even when it wasn’t their case. He wasn’t sure if this one was like that or not. He might have the whole ‘tiny man complex’ and that would just… be fucking annoying. Especially if it was on top of the captain complex. Fuck.
“Do you want to take notes or should I?” If he wanted to keep his hands clean out of this it would be obnoxious, but he could probably swing both.
Toushirou briefly considered telling Kurosaki that he wasn't an idiot, had done this before, and wasn't completely blind. He knew good and well what the kid was doing - at least he'd hope that's what the kid was doing and not digging around in brain matter for no reason whatsoever.
Toushirou gave him a narrowed-eyed look, pulling out a pencil and his notepad. "I can take notes, if you can find anything worth noting."
He may have been a captain - and damn it that should get respect all on its own - but he wasn't so far removed from the scene he forgot how to process one.
Idiot child.
Midget captain was touchy. He ignored that. Most short men were touchy. Used their little beady eye-brows to stare at you. Good thing beady eyes didn’t bother him. He turned his attention away from the grumpy midget and back to the mess in front of him. Blood was ridiculously messy when you got right down to it.
Bullet… probably not too much of it left. Judging by that hole in his… well what was left of his head it was probably a hollow point. He hated hollow points. They did… nasty things to your head when shot through your skull. Through being a very pointed term here.
He caught a glint of something and glanced down, eyes narrowing. He fished in his pocket for a second, pulled out a handkerchief and carefully picked up what was left of the bullet.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Only if you think the bullet is, Captain.”
Toushirou glanced over, glare already in place; the kid was being damned condescending and he wasn't in the mood. His informant - the damned bird - was laying in a pool of his own blood, half his head splattered across the wall behind him.
Couldn't tell him much that way. That was most likely the idea. Goddamn it. He moved to crouch beside Kurosaki, not knowing whether to be pleased at his find or not.
He gave Kurosaki a quick glare and then looked at the bullet he was holding. Mushroomed and obviously spent, it most likely belonged to the murder weapon. Fairly large caliber. A .45 maybe, by the looks of it. He could be wrong; had been before. That's why they had a lab.
"You gonna bag and tag it or just sit there and hold it?"
What a pissy little bird. He pulled the bag out of the pocket he had hastily shoved it into upon arriving at the scene and dropped the bullet into it. He really had no idea what prissy had a problem with. He wasn’t some palooka to screw up basic crime scene protocol.
Someone needed to teach him to relax.
He glanced at the blood and winced just a bit. He was just glad cleaning up the brain matter on the walls wasn’t his job. He glanced up at a very familiar set of squealing breaks and glanced back over at prissy.
“The coroner is here.”
Toushirou raised an eyebrow when the kid shoved the bullet into a bag with quick, jerky movements. Mad, was he? Over what? Being forced to do his job right? Damn kid. What was he doing on the streets?
He nodded. "Easy enough job for him," he muttered. "COD isn't really in question." There was the possibility that something else had killed him and the bullet was just icing on the cake, but hell if any shooter he knew of wanted to spend that much time killing anyone or throwing red herrings. This wasn't about throwing him off; this was about killing Bynes.
"Anything else?"
Ichigo looked up? Down? Evenly? At… the short caption. Then he stood because this up and down was confusing him.
“How did you know the boob?” He questioned. If he was going to be investigating this movie he might as well figure out who the dead guy was. Then he had a place to start at the little man knew.
Only normal to ask questions about the dead guys identity. He just got lucky this time and didn’t have to go looking for someone who could identify someone with half the back of his skull blown out.
Who was he to ignore that sort of good luck?
Toushirou stood, not happy in the least to have Kurosaki looking down that far at him. He stepped and crossed his arms, pen tapping against his elbow.
"Bynes came to me, said he had information about the Fitzgerald murder." Toushirou glanced at the body, brow furrowing. Should have known it was too good to be true.
“Well… fuck.” That seemed to sum it all up nicely. Damnit it all. The Fitzgerald murder? Like that one wasn’t sitting on his desk like some gaping hole of nothing.
He motioned to Bynes’s dead body. “Then it wasn’t a suicide.” Not that he had ever thought it was.
Toushirou gave him The Look. Of course it wasn't suicide; that would be too... Well, easy wasn't the right word but it would have been marginally better than murder. At any rate, Toushirou had been assured that the Fitzgerald incident was most definitely murder. Even if he had no other evidence to back it up, Bynes' death nearly screamed it aloud.
Too bad that wouldn't hold up in court.
"No," he said, shooting the body a disgusted glance, "that wouldn't be suicide."
Characters: Ichigo Kurosaki (davyn), Toushirou Hitsugaya (kellenanne)
Timeline: April 18, 1950
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Toushirou and Hitsugaya discover Bynes body in an alley.
As the division's captain, In fact, it was rather expected that he'd be the one at the desk, compiling reports and making things just right for the District Attorney's office. It wasn't really in Toushirou's job description to walk a beat or respond to calls (unless, of course, it could be a case with some powerful movers and shakers behind it; then he was basically ordered to make an appearance). That didn't mean, however, that Toushirou had ever been able to wash his hands entirely of some of the grunt work. He could still process a scene, still had a sharp eye for evidence left behind, and, above all, a desire to be right in the middle of it all.
He had never sat on the sidelines well at all, and his desk was about as far removed from the streets as possible. He hated to be bogged down in paperwork and, despite the inherent malevolence present in such scenes; it was refreshing to be on-site.
In this case, though, he'd only been trying to go home and when it came right down to it, the scene was on his route between the precinct and his apartment. He had taken all of two seconds to decide to stop on his way: when it came down to having to detour to get home past a dead body, he might as well stop. Toushirou settled his gun in its holster and pulled the jacket from the car: the chill twilight had a bit of a bite. He was straightening the jacket as he walked into the scene.
Such a typical crime scene: cops milling about, bystanders gawking where they shouldn't be, and just a general sense of organized chaos. He supposed that, given the situation, the sense of normalcy it gave was the best he could hope for. He didn't see anyone there from his department yet, but that could simple be because there were so many people around. Once one of his people showed up, he'd foist off the case to them and head off for some dinner. Until then, he might as well get to work.
The alley that was taped off was narrow, one of the ones that remained dark even in mid-day. Toushirou made his way through the gawkers, rolling his eyes as he shoved at elbows and shoulders. Damned people were nothing but nuisances; he never understood their fascination with the morbid. Understanding was beyond him, how they flocked to a scene and speculated and pointed and got in the way. These scenes were only proof of the ugly side of humanity and they wanted to gawk? It made no sense.
He ducked under the crime scene tape, stalwartly ignoring the sundry eyes on him. They weren't worth his time, not unless one of them actually saw something and he was willing to bet not one of them actually had anything to sing about. Real witnesses would have fled by now, in his experience. He could see the tell-tale heap of clothing already - for some reason, in his eyes, once dead a person seemed to lose all that made them human; they became nothing more than some sort of strange lump of flesh - and he approached slowly, taking in everything he could see.
Not that this alley was any different than any other: messy there by the small dumpster, a couple doors into the buildings, a faraway exit, a fire escape that looked like it had rusted into place long ago. Nothing especially dirty, nothing especially clean. Toushirou hated that, hated walking into a scene that didn't stand out to him.
He turned his attention to the body, ignoring the uniforms near it for the moment. Carefully avoiding the congealing blood on the ground, he crossed to the other side of the body. No matter how inhuman it seemed to him, they had a face, and it was his job to identify them. He held no illusions about giving them justice; they were dead, but their killers deserved it.
He crouched, wrists resting on his knees, and saw the man's face clearly. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Larry Bynes.
Goddamn it.
Ichigo had no idea how he kept getting assigned to these side cases by himself. He had a partner, damnit. Where the fuck was she? If he was going to get called into overtime then by god so was she. Except there was no little princess running around the crime scene yelling orders in her typical fashion which meant they hadn’t bothered to call her out here.
Fuck that. He was going to yell about that tomorrow, as it was it was all he could do to keep hold of his cup of coffee and make it under the giant ‘do not cross’ yellow band of doom. He swallowed the last of it hurriedly and dropped the cup off in some rookie’s hands with orders to throw it away. He wasn’t exactly late, he had been eating dinner - but it had taken him a bit longer than he had anticipated getting himself down to this particular scene.
Damn there were too many people trying to peer over the sides and see what was going on. That was not going to work; they were probably treading on evidence. He flagged down some panicked looking individual and grabbed their arm when they barely noticed him.
“You,” he motioned to the people, “get them moving out of here unless they say something helpful got it? If they saw something, take their statement.” He paused to let that sink into his brain. “Otherwise they don’t need to be here.” All these people were practically screaming ‘incident waiting to happen’ and that was the last thing he wanted to deal with. Get them cleared out, get the area secure, and then go see what physical evidence he had to deal with on this one.
A familiar smallish man appeared at his elbow and Ichigo glanced down at him, letting the kid he had grabbed go, watching him out of the corner of his eye to make sure he was going in the right direction. He blinked down at the guy next to him and frowned. Damnit what was this guy’s name? Andrew? Alex?
“Kurosaki sir,” he squeaked and Ichigo blinked. Aiden? No… AJ maybe it was AJ. Where was Rukia? Keeping track of names was her job not his.
“What?” He was going to have to request official name tags for the new guys.
“We have one dead body; though I have not been able to examine it closely, it appears to be one gun shot wound to the head.” Ichigo nodded absently, gun shot wound to the head? He glanced towards the alley that had the most guards and sighed. Right, okay, the chances of it being the same sort of gunshot were very slim, but he would go look in a second.
“All right. Coroner's office?”
“They're on their way, sir.”
He nodded. “Good - go help that kid get the people back.” He turned and headed towards the Alley. One dead body, gunshot wound to the head? In a dark alley in the middle of nowhere - poor sap. Dying by himself in an alley was not the most pleasant way to, not that he got to see too many of those in this line of work.
He paused at the edge of the alley and blinked. What was Captain Midget doing here? He was pretty sure that captains didn’t do the grunt work, they did the paperwork. He sighed and moved forward. The shorter man pinched his nose and Ichigo blinked at him before blinking at the body and shrugged. Maybe he forgot what blood and death smelled like? God knew that one was hard to do, but maybe he had managed it somehow. Strange things happened to you when you became a pencil pusher.
He flipped open his notepad and scribbled his notes for a second, otherwise writing his report later would be half of a bitch. Writing it down now while it was fresh in his head would keep Rukia from kicking him under their desks for ‘not using his head’.
“Gun shot wound to the head,” he said. “Haven’t heard that we have much of an ID on the body though. Is there a wallet lying around or anything?”
If the captain was going to kneel on the ground next to the body to examine it, he wasn't going to tell him how to do his job. Just... make sure he didn't forget anything important.
Like ID'ing the body.
Toushirou looked up sharply at Kurosaki's comment. Yes, he knew it was a gunshot wound to the head. The damned hole was staring him in the face; never mind he'd been somewhat fixated on it, growling under his breath about stool pigeons who didn't know when to fly.
And, honestly, he wasn't a button new to the beat. He fixed the kid with a look. Look for a wallet and all that; he knew. He also knew who the man was and looking for that wallet would just be an afterthought.
Toushirou stood, facing Kurosaki, and raising an eyebrow. He knew what these detectives thought of his desk job; thought he didn't remember what it was like on the streets or couldn't remember how to process a scene. Let them think it. The minute they treated him like he didn't know anything, though, and he'd have them cleaning the precinct's toilets so fast they're head would spin.
"Larry Bynes," he announced. He gave the body another perusal, affirming his original estimate. "Twelve to fifteen since the shot, I'd say." Rigor gave it that, and the alley wouldn't see much action in early morning hours. Toushirou had talked to Bynes near midnight the night before, so that narrowed things down quite a bit.
He snorted at the eyebrow. Right, the intimidation factor - whatever. Captain Midget wasn’t going to be getting him crawling on the ground because of an eyebrow.
“You knew him then?” he questioned, glancing around. He didn’t see any ID which meant the captain was going off visual ID, maybe. He could speculate a little bit, black wallets were a bitch to find in the dark. He shrugged and knelt down a little bit, eyeing the body.
Twelve to fifteen hours made sense. Would have to get a liver reading at the morgue to confirm that but… he had been here for a while, enough so that they didn’t have to wonder if any of the people around the area were witnesses.
“AJ,” he barked, turning a bit, “why are those people still there?” They weren’t witnesses and that meant they weren’t useful. He turned his attention back to the body when the little man jumped.
“Have you looked for casings yet?” If they got lucky there would be one, if they didn’t - well worse things had happened. He glanced at the body. That guy should know.
Knew him? Toushirou snorted. As much contact as he'd had with the man, he might be able to claim he'd known him. However, Toushirou wasn't all that keen on knowing him. Bynes was no man he'd want to spend any time with, really. "He had information," he said, glancing down at Bynes again. Information now that couldn't be used unless he found evidence to support it. Bynes had been his evidence, but a dead man didn't carry any weight in court.
Damn it.
He shook his head and looked back to Kurosaki. Damn kid was annoying, making it sound like he didn't know a damn thing about processing a scene. "Just got here myself." So, no, no casings. Nothing yet.
Probably wouldn't find a damn thing anyway.
Ichigo nodded. That was good, not that he didn’t trust the Captain, just that he would have much rather done the looking himself. He turned and glanced at Bynes and the splatter behind his head. If he was a bullet… well that was where he would be. He grimaced a bit. He hated looking for bullets in brain matter. He settled his notepad back into his pocket and kneeled carefully beside the worst of the brain matter. He fumbled for a moment but managed to fish his flashlight out of his belt without dropping it into the stuff and flipped it on. The back of Bynes head was a mess so he doubted that the bullet had made it as far as the wall.
“I will see if I can find the bullet,” he told Toushirou, just in case he hadn’t guessed what he was doing. If they were going to build any sort of a case they were going to need whatever they had. Right now that didn’t look like much. “The coroner should be here to take pictures and examine the body soon,” he glanced over at him. Most captains had this thing about appearing like they were in complete control at all times, even when it wasn’t their case. He wasn’t sure if this one was like that or not. He might have the whole ‘tiny man complex’ and that would just… be fucking annoying. Especially if it was on top of the captain complex. Fuck.
“Do you want to take notes or should I?” If he wanted to keep his hands clean out of this it would be obnoxious, but he could probably swing both.
Toushirou briefly considered telling Kurosaki that he wasn't an idiot, had done this before, and wasn't completely blind. He knew good and well what the kid was doing - at least he'd hope that's what the kid was doing and not digging around in brain matter for no reason whatsoever.
Toushirou gave him a narrowed-eyed look, pulling out a pencil and his notepad. "I can take notes, if you can find anything worth noting."
He may have been a captain - and damn it that should get respect all on its own - but he wasn't so far removed from the scene he forgot how to process one.
Idiot child.
Midget captain was touchy. He ignored that. Most short men were touchy. Used their little beady eye-brows to stare at you. Good thing beady eyes didn’t bother him. He turned his attention away from the grumpy midget and back to the mess in front of him. Blood was ridiculously messy when you got right down to it.
Bullet… probably not too much of it left. Judging by that hole in his… well what was left of his head it was probably a hollow point. He hated hollow points. They did… nasty things to your head when shot through your skull. Through being a very pointed term here.
He caught a glint of something and glanced down, eyes narrowing. He fished in his pocket for a second, pulled out a handkerchief and carefully picked up what was left of the bullet.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Only if you think the bullet is, Captain.”
Toushirou glanced over, glare already in place; the kid was being damned condescending and he wasn't in the mood. His informant - the damned bird - was laying in a pool of his own blood, half his head splattered across the wall behind him.
Couldn't tell him much that way. That was most likely the idea. Goddamn it. He moved to crouch beside Kurosaki, not knowing whether to be pleased at his find or not.
He gave Kurosaki a quick glare and then looked at the bullet he was holding. Mushroomed and obviously spent, it most likely belonged to the murder weapon. Fairly large caliber. A .45 maybe, by the looks of it. He could be wrong; had been before. That's why they had a lab.
"You gonna bag and tag it or just sit there and hold it?"
What a pissy little bird. He pulled the bag out of the pocket he had hastily shoved it into upon arriving at the scene and dropped the bullet into it. He really had no idea what prissy had a problem with. He wasn’t some palooka to screw up basic crime scene protocol.
Someone needed to teach him to relax.
He glanced at the blood and winced just a bit. He was just glad cleaning up the brain matter on the walls wasn’t his job. He glanced up at a very familiar set of squealing breaks and glanced back over at prissy.
“The coroner is here.”
Toushirou raised an eyebrow when the kid shoved the bullet into a bag with quick, jerky movements. Mad, was he? Over what? Being forced to do his job right? Damn kid. What was he doing on the streets?
He nodded. "Easy enough job for him," he muttered. "COD isn't really in question." There was the possibility that something else had killed him and the bullet was just icing on the cake, but hell if any shooter he knew of wanted to spend that much time killing anyone or throwing red herrings. This wasn't about throwing him off; this was about killing Bynes.
"Anything else?"
Ichigo looked up? Down? Evenly? At… the short caption. Then he stood because this up and down was confusing him.
“How did you know the boob?” He questioned. If he was going to be investigating this movie he might as well figure out who the dead guy was. Then he had a place to start at the little man knew.
Only normal to ask questions about the dead guys identity. He just got lucky this time and didn’t have to go looking for someone who could identify someone with half the back of his skull blown out.
Who was he to ignore that sort of good luck?
Toushirou stood, not happy in the least to have Kurosaki looking down that far at him. He stepped and crossed his arms, pen tapping against his elbow.
"Bynes came to me, said he had information about the Fitzgerald murder." Toushirou glanced at the body, brow furrowing. Should have known it was too good to be true.
“Well… fuck.” That seemed to sum it all up nicely. Damnit it all. The Fitzgerald murder? Like that one wasn’t sitting on his desk like some gaping hole of nothing.
He motioned to Bynes’s dead body. “Then it wasn’t a suicide.” Not that he had ever thought it was.
Toushirou gave him The Look. Of course it wasn't suicide; that would be too... Well, easy wasn't the right word but it would have been marginally better than murder. At any rate, Toushirou had been assured that the Fitzgerald incident was most definitely murder. Even if he had no other evidence to back it up, Bynes' death nearly screamed it aloud.
Too bad that wouldn't hold up in court.
"No," he said, shooting the body a disgusted glance, "that wouldn't be suicide."