"What do you think?" Tommy said to me.
"It think he's lying," I replied.
"Why?" He asked, leaning back in the chair of the police station and flicking his lighter.
"Something just doesn't add up about his story. The guy walks to the bus, gives a bum a light and then wakes up in a tub of ice? There's so little detail."
"What about the blow? Like the doc said, no junkie knife did that."
"You've heard the stories of those illegal organ labs. People go, pay the money and get a kidney stone from a revolutionary halfway across the world. I figure this guy goes to one, gets a new whatever, walks home and gets mugged. The rest is lies."
"Are you saying then that there is an organ clinic on 42nd and Exton?" Tommy asks me with a smile on his face. He leans forward and pockets his empty lighter
"No, he walks home, gets mugged."
"Listen to yourself, who with enough money to go to one of these places doesn't drive home? Who doesn't keep enough money to pay off fifteen muggers in their wallet?"
"Maybe he's smart, he knows everyone expects him to drive-" Here I am cut off by Tommy's derisive "Pfah, come on, you and I both know that's bullshit."
"Yeah, but it's the best we've got."
"You wanna turn this in as a COI?" Every three months, due to the amount of crimes for inspectors, us 'street sweepers' have to pick a Crime Of Inspection so that the pissants one floor up don't go mad with the overflow of Rapes, Murders, Thievery and Arson that dot this city more and more frequently.
"I don't know," I replied. Tommy leans back again and once again starts flicking his lighter.
We stared at each other in silence. Each working through our own thoughts. We didn't even have a case, or a crime. Just as I sat up to get some RoCeLi the phone rang. Tommy picked it up and talked to the person on the end. Through out the two minute conversation his face changed from it's normal impassive to worried to horrified.
"Come on," he says to me, "sawbones says he's got something to show us."
He explained on the drive down, how they had done x-rays, and they had shown that there was almost nothing inside him. No heart, no liver, almost no internal organs except for the digestive system, which looked fiddled with, they had said. He told me how Brendan's bones had been replaced with metal constructs. They weren't yet sure about the blood, or how he was still alive, or anything at all, but t
"It think he's lying," I replied.
"Why?" He asked, leaning back in the chair of the police station and flicking his lighter.
"Something just doesn't add up about his story. The guy walks to the bus, gives a bum a light and then wakes up in a tub of ice? There's so little detail."
"What about the blow? Like the doc said, no junkie knife did that."
"You've heard the stories of those illegal organ labs. People go, pay the money and get a kidney stone from a revolutionary halfway across the world. I figure this guy goes to one, gets a new whatever, walks home and gets mugged. The rest is lies."
"Are you saying then that there is an organ clinic on 42nd and Exton?" Tommy asks me with a smile on his face. He leans forward and pockets his empty lighter
"No, he walks home, gets mugged."
"Listen to yourself, who with enough money to go to one of these places doesn't drive home? Who doesn't keep enough money to pay off fifteen muggers in their wallet?"
"Maybe he's smart, he knows everyone expects him to drive-" Here I am cut off by Tommy's derisive "Pfah, come on, you and I both know that's bullshit."
"Yeah, but it's the best we've got."
"You wanna turn this in as a COI?" Every three months, due to the amount of crimes for inspectors, us 'street sweepers' have to pick a Crime Of Inspection so that the pissants one floor up don't go mad with the overflow of Rapes, Murders, Thievery and Arson that dot this city more and more frequently.
"I don't know," I replied. Tommy leans back again and once again starts flicking his lighter.
We stared at each other in silence. Each working through our own thoughts. We didn't even have a case, or a crime. Just as I sat up to get some RoCeLi the phone rang. Tommy picked it up and talked to the person on the end. Through out the two minute conversation his face changed from it's normal impassive to worried to horrified.
"Come on," he says to me, "sawbones says he's got something to show us."
He explained on the drive down, how they had done x-rays, and they had shown that there was almost nothing inside him. No heart, no liver, almost no internal organs except for the digestive system, which looked fiddled with, they had said. He told me how Brendan's bones had been replaced with metal constructs. They weren't yet sure about the blood, or how he was still alive, or anything at all, but t
