The city tonight was peaceful, which had become an abnormality in the recent years. The pale moon was obscured by grey clouds and dirty factory smoke, both blurred together in a swirling, whirling dance. Occasionally her yellow blush would break through the black haze, looking like just another of the plain lights that lined our good city's streets. Little could be heard on these kinds of quiet nights. Instead of the thunder of gunshots or the distant sound of tires screeching on the black asphalt, there were only the sounds of the wind and the rustling week-old newspapers it carried, tabloid articles lost and without a home, without a purpose.
Despite the current calm of the city, today had been a long day. Piles and piles of paperwork still littered my desk, and I was in no mood to pay them any mind, much less actually fill them out. Rather, I simply closed my eyes and listened to the silence of the sleeping city. The stillness wrapped around me like a woolen blanket, and despite my better judgment, I quickly drifted off to sleep. I'm not sure how long I was out, but I was eventually rudely awoken by the sound of my office door slamming open.
Still partially in a daze after being so forcefully jolted back into consciousness, I scrambled for the revolver at my hip and pointed it blindly forward. When my vision regained its focus a few seconds later, I saw who was standing at the other end of the iron barrel.
Dear Lord, I was half sure I was still dreaming. The kid standing in my doorway looked like a damn beanpole with a mop of jet black hair sticking to his forehead. Either he had run all the way to my office, or I had missed a sudden downpour. The look on his face told me I had scared a few good years off of his life. Not my best introduction, but I have had worse.
"Can I help you?" I asked as I lowered the gun. I was still rather miffed about having been woken up so suddenly, and the stress remaining from the day's earlier work wasn't helping either. I watched as the raven-hosted man slowly returned his hands to his sides, a rush of relief flashing through his eyes as he relaxed. A dorky grin immediately swept across his face to grace his features. Already I could tell that this guy was trouble. Not that I can't deal with trouble. After all, trouble is what gets me paid. But the glint in this kid's eyes spelled a kind of trouble that reminded me of my youthful escapades in Cuba. My musings were interrupted when the kid opened his mouth to answer my question.
"Are you William Strife?"
"That's what it says on the door. So yes. What about it?"
"Well, according to the Chief, I work here now."
"What."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and a part of me began to wonder if I actually was still asleep at my desk, dead to the rest of the world. I vaguely remembered being told by local Police Chief "Kirin" David that I was being assigned to keep tabs on some idiot who managed to get his police badge suspended, but never would I have guessed that this walking skeleton was said idiot. Then again, he did look like the type of idiot to get his badge suspended. Frankly, he looked like he got jibbed for being unable to hold a gun for extended periods of time. The kid was so lanky. There didn't appear to be a single muscle on him! I wondered how he even managed to survive the police academy without breaking every single bone in his body. Still, I could tell he wasn't joking. Unless I wanted to lose my good graces with the Chief (and possibly my P.I. License) for defying direct orders, I was stuck with him. Joy.
"Yep! My name's Parvis by the way. Alex Parvis. But you can call me Parv. Everyone else does!"
"Noted."
"So you're a private detective, huh? What's it like? Do you do all the cool things that Sherlock Holmes does? Wait, does this mean I'm your Watson now? Do you have one of those weird detective hats? Can I have one? I really want one. Do you think it would look good me?"
Jesus Christ, I'd known this kid for less than two minutes, and I already wished I'd never met him. This Parvis guy would not shut up. I sighed internally and decided to interrupt him before he could continue his pointless rant about deerstalkers.
"What are you doing here so late? Couldn't you have waited until morning?" I asked.
"I would have, but the Chief sent me over here straight away. Plus I don't really have anywhere else to go for a while. Do you have a place I could room in?"
"I guess I do. How long are you assigned here again?"
"Oh just five, six months maybe."
I groaned. Audibly this time. These next few months were going to be unbearable if this Parvis guy kept talking as much as he did. At the very least, I had my stache of Cuban cigars. They would help me relax and tune this guy out. They always did.
"Listen, uh, Parvis, I'm going to head upstairs and get some sleep. I've had a rough day. In the meantime, why don't you do this paperwork or something?"
"Sure thing, Boss! Ace Assistant Detective Parv is on the case!" He followed up his hammy decree with a mock salute before practically butting me out of the way to sit and get started. My eyes began to grow heavy again as I turned and made my way towards the stairs that led to my bedroom to hopefully get some restful sleep. Unfortunately, my thoughts regarding pleasant dreams were cut short by a loud clattering and the rustling of papers back downstairs.
"Uh, ignore that! Everything's fine!" I heard Parvis shout up to me. I groaned again and began to massage my aching temples as I continued down the hall to my bedroom. This was going to be one long six months.
