Special Detective Edward Cullen stood at the edge of the hump and peered down to the deep waters of the Harlem River below. The 'C' Rock had always been a favorite thrill for those seeking adventure within the confines of the city. Legends always had a way of taunting new generations. Especially when it came to feats. It was a fifty foot drop to the river below. Many a boy or girl for that matter had backed away from nerves. Like anything else in this life it was simply a test.

Edward sniffed at the autumn air. Stale and dying. Scent of the deciduous trees. The sun was setting across the river against the backdrop of a darkening city. He stared into the wan shafts of light. He stared until the light finally blinded him. But it was too late. Too late, he thought. Images burned his mind and paled away. Broken images of memories long past. Another life was how he liked to think of it. A spark of life short-lived. Like a piece of aerolite swiftly burning through the atmosphere. Now he simply functioned out of the curiosity that the dead muscle in his chest was still able to beat.

The Harbor Patrol glided under the Henry Hudson Bridge and drifted toward the wall of rock with the giant 'C' painted on it. The police boat slowed and spun the bow around to face the oncoming tide. A short Spaniard with yellowed curls of hair stepped in beside Edward and shook his head. He wasn't as young as Edward but his paled complexion did a decent job of concealing his experience.

'A couple of boys from Riverdale found it. Said it was just floating there. Lodged against the wall.' Sgt. Alonzo Clemente took out a brown cigarillo and placed it in his mouth. 'Looks like it's been there awhile,' he said, lighting the small cigar.

The boat below drifted in the flow of the tidal wake, slowly moving closer to the edge of jagged wall. Three officers scrambled around the side of the boat and worked off the rock as the other two pulled the body from the river. Clemente's radio crackled with static.

'It's a boy Sergeant. Probably around ten years of age. Has some bruising around his neck and shoulders and ribcage.'

Clemente looked at Edward. He sighed and shook his head. 'These things happen. His friends probably dared him to jump and he landed wrong. If he hit that water face first it could've knocked him unconscious… drowned. That also might explain the bruising.'

'This river moves at about four knots with tides flowing from the north and the south. Wouldn't he drift away?' Edward said.

'Not necessarily. There's a tidal surge down there. Once the boy was pulled toward the wall, the current moved around him and just held him there. You know why they call this place Spuyten Duyvil?'

'Spinning Devil,' Edward said, still peering down the face of the rock into the stream of black water.

'That's right. They call it the Devil's Whirlpool. In1666 the British Navy was going to invade the island. The city. A man named Anthony Van Corlaer was ordered to summon the people of the island. When he reached the Harlem River it was storming and he couldn't cross. He decided to swim. They say the Devil drowned him. Pulled him under. It wouldn't be the first time a boy has drowned down there.'

Clemente's radio popped and beeped.

'Sergeant, we got something… unusual.' There was a break between the static and charge of wind stirring across the river, '… the boy's tongue is gone.'

'What do you mean it's gone?'

'The boy doesn't have a tongue, Sir… it's gone.'

'Por Dios,' Clemente winced and then quickly made the sign of the cross. He held the radio to the left of his mouth and spoke. 'Okay. Let's get him down to the medical examiner and see if we can identify him.' He looked down at his watch and cursed with a hiss. 'Damn. I'm going to be late again…'

Edward removed his long lambskin coat and folded it into quarters and handed it over to Clemente. He watched the boat drift with the changing current as he moved closer to the edge. Clemente reached out and grabbed Edward by the fold of his arm and pulled him back.

'What the hell are you doing, man?'

Edward smirked. He observed the oily shine of Clemente's hair and paper skin against the fading light. Vitamin E, lots of it because of his condition.

'Going for a swim.'

'Look detective. My men and I will do a full investigation. If this turns out to be your missing boy, we'll notify you immediately. Then we'll hit the streets. I'll have my best men on this. Okay? No messing around…' Clemente dropped his cigarillo and held out Edward 's coat for the taking.

Edward drew close and looked the paper Sergeant in his pink albino eyes. He had a feeling Clemente was a veteran that didn't quite make the grade. Always jockeying. 'I need to get a closer look.'

'Tonto de remate!' Clemente hissed and tightened his grip. 'You crazy?'

Edward shook his head and blinked. 'Yeah.' The dark waters invited him. He pulled his arm away from Clemente's hold and looked toward the setting sun and stepped off the edge of the hump.