Roy is a difficult character to pin down, but the fact that there is not much known about him gives me at least a little room to work with.
Prompt: Mystery (can be used as theme or wording)
Length: 479 words
It was like candy, no one could resist.
A little girl, sucking on a peppermint stick, stared at Roy as he drove by. The quintessential candy snatcher, Roy made the big kids cry.
The orange glow of the sunset poured into his vehicle, drawing giggles from the girls on the sidewalk. A jealous boyfriend tugged one of them away, her bare legs bending as she tried to stand her ground.
He'd seen legs like those during a brothel raid back in '41. The under aged girl had clutched a shabby blanket to herself, and shuddered in fear.
Not even the "virtuous" police force could keep from sampling the candy. Leary boasted a clean Traffic department, but who gave a flying fuck about cars when people were gunned down over drugs?
Phelps was cracking; Homicide just wasn't agreeing with him.
Putting up his arm, Roy shielded himself as the sun's rays hit the rear view mirror.
"Let go of me!" Elsa snapped, attempting to jerk from his grasp.
Roy's punch cracked into the side of her face, sending her back a few steps. Elsa caught herself by splaying out her hands. A bruise cut roughly into her cheek. She glared defiantly at him, a lock of hair falling into her face.
The girl in the brothel, by contrast, had shrunk back, whimpering. He'd been softer then, holding out his hand and asking her name. She'd shaken her head, her arm turning to reveal syringe marks. "I-I don't have a name."
The kids had been all junkies, six girls and three boys. Leading this confused shade by the arm, the bed sheet whispering after her, Roy had found he didn't care whether they had actually been junkies of their own accord; they were all nothing now, their young lives drained out of them.
It was a mystery why he didn't arrest Elsa, despite her mouthing off to him (which seemed to be more frequent after she had met Phelps). Perhaps it was some remnant of bright-eyed nature left over, before men like Vernon Mapes showed him how the world truly worked, that stayed his hand. That was doubtful, however, as the broad wasn't worth saving.
Cole was a different story. Roy saw so much of the former knight in shining armor he once was in Phelps. He hated who Roy Earle used to be, but that could rest for now. Cole would be useful to him in the future.
So he left Elsa with a bruise that he knew Cole would see.
The last rays of the sun faded as Roy grinned at his reflection in his apartment bathroom. Fastening his hand about his false teeth, he pulled them out to place in the container. His smile fell as he stared at his pale gums, and realized that he saw Elsa staring back at him.
Even the candy snatcher couldn't resist.