Hi there, Caroline here. With, finally, a multi-chapter story. I haven't done this in a very long time, so don't mind my babbling.

Anyways, the mystery writer in me has found its way back, and look! A new story about the London Police Department. Yes, I have more of these babies. If you want to know more about those, I suggest you message me on my Tumblr: realityisnotmylife. I just have to inform you that they are not Glee related. And if you need anything else from me, don't be scared. I will not send psycho murderers after you.

About the warnings for this story: There's many talk about murder (obviously). Expect strong language, death and more.

Now, without further do, I'll present you: LPD: Innocent Toxic.

I hope you'll enjoy it.

Chapter 1: Morning Ghosts

"Ouch! Shit." The spoon met the floor. The connection created a loud, screeching sound. "Everything ok in there, mate?" someone yelled from another room. Nick turned to pick up the spoon with a towel.

"I'm fine." The man called out over his shoulder. He dropped the spoon in the sink and flung the towel over his right shoulder. "Just someone who left the spoon in his forgotten tea."

"It's not my fault." Was the reply giving. Nick shook his head. As he did, he pulled the towel off his shoulder and used it to protect his hands from the hot cup of tea. Nick reached for a new cup in the cabinet before he poured the boiled water - left over in the kettle - into his cup. He grabbed his plate with toast covered in jelly and sat down at the dinning table.

He was last to eat this morning. His housemate had already enjoyed his breakfast. It made Nick think. Did his housemate ever sleep? He would still be up when Nick went to bed, even after a long day of paperwork, and he would be awake before Nick even had the chance to open his eyes.

With a shrug, Nick blew softly into his cup before sipping it. The hot liquid felt nice as it ran down the insides of Nick's body. It gave him a sign of life. A sign that he had yet made it to another day. A new day to survive.

With a smile Nick placed the cup back on the glass top of the wooden dinning table. He had just taken a bite of his toast when his phone started buzzing on the counter top, where he left it. Nick quickly jumped out of his seat and snatched his phone off of the counter. Another day of work. He answered the call with a mouth full of half-chewed toast.

"Uufal." Nick frowned as he realized how strange that must have sounded. While he quickly chewed down his toast, a voice sounded on the other end of the line.

"Do I want to know what you're doing?"

Nick swallowed before answering this time. "I was enjoying my breakfast but then you called. So, who's dead?"

"You. If you don't get your ass here in ten minutes."

With a sigh, Nick rolled his eyes. He ended the call with an under-breath mutter about how much it was to ask for one morning with proper breakfast. Another day of work, meant another person taken from their life without legitimate reason.

Nick grabbed his plate, took the one slice of toast he had just begun to eat and dropped the rest into the sink. Leaving it for the housemate to clean.

With the toast clenched between his teeth, Nick pulled on his brown leather boots and matching leather jacket. When finished, Nick took another bite - he had to at least eat something right? – of his toast and disappeared into his room.

The drawer of his bedside table was his goal. Nick pulled it open and grabbed his gun and badge out. The gun went into the inside pocket of Nick's jacket and he clipped the badge on his belt before he darted out of the room again and left the house with a quick goodbye to his housemate.

Within less than ten minutes, Nick arrived at Hummel's Studio of Fashion – the crime scene. He nodded to Puckerman who led him to where his colleagues stood. The first person, of his team, he saw that morning was the man who held his strings: Chief Anderson.

Nick swallowed as he saw the tall man positioned with his arms crossed. While the smirk on the older man's face should have betrayed him, Nick should've known that he had not to fear for Cooper Anderson. As long as you did what you were told to do, and didn't went behind his back, it was just Anderson.

If you did decided to play 'bad cop' and ignore Cooper request, he would become either Chief of Mr. Anderson. Nobody would even try to get on Cooper's bad side, because, while they haven't seen it happening more than once – David thought it was a good idea to keep evidence from him. Wesley, his partner, could have sworn he heard David crying for the rest of the week when he went for his "coffee-break" – it was an unpleasant thought.

"Nice of you to show, Duval."Anderson shrugged, leaving Nick to stand on his own. Nick rolled his eyes, muttering something that sounded like, "I don't live at a crime scene." But before he could get his ass in trouble for saying something Cooper could actually hear the man was stopped by his partner: Sebastian Smythe.

Sebastian Smythe was the kind of you guy you needed to keep on your good side. A man with a tough shell, very hard to break, but with a heart of gold – if you were lucky enough to ever find it. He was often to find gorgeous by just anyone you'd ask. He was tall, had a sunburned glow over his skin, and shiny brown hair that fell over his green eyes - Even Nick had to agree that his partner was handsome, but because of various reasons that had nothing to do with Sebastian's incredible, flawless charm.

"Are you trying to break the record for fastest getting-kicked-off-case-incident, or what?" Was the greeting Nick received – and a large Latte Macchiato.

"Or what. Also, thank you," Nick replied, holding up the cup of coffee. "So, what do we've got today?" Nick took a sip of his coffee as Sebastian filled in the details:

"The victim is Kurt Hummel, 26, owner of the studio." The two man stopped in front of the lifeless body of the young man. The man was like an exact replica of an angel. Apart from the troubled look on his face - Then again, who wouldn't be after you just got murdered – the man was flawless. His whole appearance screamed fashion designer. It was a shame he had to leave so soon. Nick's mind spoke. It's a shame they all leave so soon.

Bowed over the body was Dr. Evans. He nodded at the pair while he plucked a fiber off the victim's scarf. "Cause of death: suffocation by a tremendous amount of clothes…" Nick raised an eyebrow at that, but not surprising Sebastian. The older man had already served himself with a bundle of copies of crime scene photos, and handed them to Nick. "He choked after he was trapped under his new collection – Don't ask, I thought it was weird too." Sebastian held his hands up in a defensive gesture, as Nick glared at him as if saying "You have lost your mind".

"Literally, his passion became his death."

"Too soon, Evans." Sebastian shook his head at the doctor's joke, arms crossed. Dr. Evans repeated Sebastian's earlier gesture. In his defense, he commented: "It wasn't a joke! Anyway, I'll know more once I get him to the lab, until then, I've got nothing more than suffocation."

"Evans puts the murder between four and seven this morning." Dr. Evans nodded at that. He signaled a group of three workers to get the body in the ambulance.

"Short timeframe. That's good."Nick mumbled. Still focused on the photos, the man asked "Do we have any suspects? Witnesses? Who reported him? We need his agenda, interview his employees – he does have employees, right? -, get our hands on anyone he has ever worked with—" Sebastian stopped Nick before he could put out more orders, with a hand over Nick's mouth and a rather offended look on his face.

"I am not stupid. Thompson is running down a list of Hummel's cooperators. Montgomery is waking his employees. I've got Evans taking the body back to the lab, and Anderson is handling the press. Now shut up and follow me to interview his assistant, who has his agenda." With the most fake smile Sebastian could pull, he took the lead and went ahead.

Nick couldn't help but smile a little. Sebastian was one step ahead, as usual. His ability to get into other peoples mind, thinking like the enemy, was worth more than gold. It's one of the main reasons Smythe and Duval are such a good team.

Nick followed his partner, sipping on his coffee. "Trent, this is detective Duval. We have a few questions to ask you."

Nick stepped in place next to Sebastian who had his little black notebook and a pen in his hands, ready to scribble down notes if necessary. "How did you find Mr. Hummel?"

The boy named Trent wasn't much older than 25. He was a little chubby and had short cropped brown hair, styled upwards, much like Sebastian's hairstyle – if he didn't wore it down. He looked fully cooperative as he answered, "I came down to the studio when Kurt didn't answered his phone. He had a Skype meeting scheduled at eight but he never logged on. I called home but no one answered there either. So, I figured the best I could do was go to the studio and hope I would find him here."

"Did you notice anything strange about Mr. Hummel in the past few days? Strange behavior, paranoia or closed-off impressions?" Trent shook his head, deep in thoughts. When he was sure he had relived every moment of the last week where Kurt was present, he answered with a sure nod. "No, he seemed fine. Busy, happy and pushy as always."

From the corner of his eye, Nick saw his partner noting Trent's statement. "You said you called home. Did he live with anyone?"

Trent nodded immediately. "Yes, with his boyfriend. Blaine. Blaine Anderson." Nick and Sebastian immediately shot each other the same look after hearing the boy's surname.

"Alright. I just have one more question for you." Nick looked at Sebastian, still a little wary, who had taken over the interview with the typical alibi-question. "Where were you this morning between four and seven?"

"At home. I slept 'till six. Edited Kurt's agenda, got ready and left the house at 8:15. You can check with my roommate, if you want?" Sebastian scribbled down Trent's statement, and while Nick nodded, he gave him a final reply.

"We'll check it. Thank you for your cooperation. We'll keep contact." Sebastian finally looked up from his black book and gave the younger boy a quick nod. He followed his partner to a somewhat more private space.

"Smythe, can you run down his alibi? I'll check with Hummel's boyfriend. See what he's been up to. See if he's actually related." Sebastian nodded, extending his arm. Not seconds later, David Thompson walked by, with a list in his hands. Sebastian's hand linked with his arm and pulled him to the duo. "Thompson, spill!"

David wasn't a guy you'd like to meet in a dark alley in the middle of the night. He was strong build, had dark skin, and less than enough hair on his head – trimmed down to millimeters. He was the perfect image of a cop, but it said nothing about his personality. David was probably the most polite, caring guy you'd ever meet.

David casted a smile at Nick, as a 'hello', and immediately fired off about the list. "Ok, so we have a big list of suspects, no joke." To add more dramatics to the statement, David let the paper he held in his hand unfold. Both Nick's and Sebastian's face fell as they stared at the now four-pages-long list of suspects.

"You're kidding me?" Nick breathed out in disbelieve before shaking his head. "Well, I'll get Anderson. We need everyone for this one. It may take days before we get all those statements checked." Nick pointed at the list, as his partner agreed. "Let's just hope our killer's on there too."