Welcome, Greymane
Rainfall: 1.326 inches
What's taking the bastard so long? I waited outside Captain Perry's office so he can tell me where my office is. Perry's the head of the homicide division, so hopefully he's more professional than that jerk Blake. Right as I was about to wander off, the door swung open. "Perry, glad to meet you. I'm Norman Greymane from the-" I was cut off as he started walking past me. "Well Norman, can you walk as well as talk? I've got a press conference today, same as every day since that Origami Killer hit the streets." "Captain, do you know where my office might be?" I inquired, getting down to the real reason I wanted to talk. "I think my secretary, Cherilee, does."
I noticed a gold watch on Cherilee's desk, beside a glass jar of bits. "What's that for?" I asked. "Eh, it's a gift we buy the lieutenant every year." The last thing I wanted to do is help buy that jerk Blake a watch. "I don't have any change with me at the moment." I lied. "Well, Norman, your office is over there. Follow me." Cherilee arose and started to trot over to the back of the station. I instinctively did as told, eager to finally do some detective work. "Here it is." Cherilee said as she pointed inside a storage closet-sized room. "You're joking, right?" I told her. "Enjoy" she said before walking away. What the fuck kind of office is this? Nearly windowless and filled with dust, this was the worst excuse for a workspace I've ever witnessed. In front of me was the barest of basics. On my left were extremely small windows as high up as possible, which shed little light in the small room. All it accomplished was highlighting the dust particles hovering over the carpet.. Ahead was an old tower of musky, olive-shaded, and most-likely rusted metal cabinets. There was also a cheap wooden desk, which was empty except for a few chewed-up pens and half of a pink eraser.. Right was a beige bulletin board, obviously heavily used as evidenced by the amount of holes from the constant use of tacks. The least I could do was renovate it. I shoved the desk towards the bulletin board and sat down. I switched on the ARIA and decided to change the scenery. A combination of swift hoof motions turned this horrible closet into a virtual Cloudsdale. A much more serene working environment, indeed. As for evidence, nothing really caught my eye. I needed way more evidence to even begin to piece together the murders. I could still work with what I had though.
First of all, I needed to triangulate the locations of where the last bodies were found. Most criminals commit their first crime in a ten-mile radius of their home so if things suddenly went awry, they'd have a chance to get back to their house. Also, I needed to map out a path of where the train heads around town to possibly mark where he could live. Since every murder was done near train tracks, this narrowed down the possibilities considerably. But first, I needed to find the locations of the other victims. Perhaps Perry knew. I'll ask him.
I started to return the glasses to my pocket when my vision became blurry. Fuck. I needed Triptomane. Instead, I walked towards the door. All I needed to do was wash my face. Withdrawal symptoms would disappear surely. I raced towards the men's room and hastily opened the faucet. Water splashed my face and when I looked at the mirror, the horse that stared back at me looked exhausted. Tired of everything I've been through recently.
