I hardly remember falling asleep that night, let alone the hazy car ride to the BPD district office the next day. My head ached with the siren’s call of cheap whiskey, muted only by the poignant taste of nicotine gum, which helped cover two problems in one.
The ride along the way was just a slideshow reminder of why I hated this city. It was grime and death colored over by bright neon and the advertised promises of wealth through consumption. I had grown bitter to it all, far too cynical for even my liking.
At my desk, the coroner’s report was waiting for me. It verified what I already knew. Cause of death: strangulation. Whoever did this, it was personal. It all felt wrong. Someone like Elizabeth Sidow was never alone.. and to be killed in such a way, with no witness? My jaw clenched as the puzzle that was this case began to worm its way deeper into my brain, there something here that I just couldn’t shake. I had to keep digging. It was time to go see Henrick Sidow himself.