The Devil In the Details: "Staircase to Heaven," 05x10
Pay attention to the small details.
George was all about the details. As a writer, the smallest of details could be important in immersing the reader in his fictional world. It was the details that could make or break a story. Things such as what a character looked like, and how they acted. Should the author forget, or change something, it could completely change the story. Your character couldn't have brown eyes at the beginning of the story and green ones at the end. Or be a left-handed shooter in one gun battle and a right-handed shooter at the climax. And continuity? Your main character couldn't be standing behind someone in one paragraph and seated at a table in the next, at least, not without the author having used words to move them. No, the details were important, both in writing and crime solving. George couldn't count the number of times that it had been the smallest, silliest, most easily overlooked thing that led to them solving a crime.
(It was why he hated looking through fingermarks, but he did it anyway.)
George kept a thesaurus and a dictionary in his desk drawers, because with words, the proverbial devil was in the details. For example, George considered himself a good constable. "Good": an adjective meaning suitable. He was a suitable constable. He had the appropriate qualities to be a constable-a keen eye, a belief that all men were virtuous (until they proved otherwise), and the skills that came with solving cases under Detective Murdoch.
But Murdoch…the detective was a great detective. "Great" was completely different than "good": great meant impressive and extreme, and important, and Detective Murdoch was all of those things. The way he could find the smallest detail and turn the tide of a stalled investigation-the lengths that he would go to solve a case, and his position in the station house and in the eyes of every man in Station House 4. George admired Detective Murdoch simply because of his keen observational skills and his grasp of the science behind a crime, and the way he treated any theory or suggestion as if it was worth looking into.
George would never consider himself a 'great' constable-at least, not yet. Perhaps someday he might get to that level.
As he sat in the Inspector's office the following morning after the storm, however, he was indeed feeling more "great" than "good."
"How did you spot him?" Detective Murdoch sounded genuinely curious, and George was more than happy to pass on what he'd learned from his mentor: the small details.
"The shoes, sir," George said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile. "Hardly police issue." The Inspector was nodding approvingly. He thought about the evening before-how the man in the constable's uniform was not wearing the boots that every constable so meticulously shined and polished and took care of. Even George, after being out in the rain that night, as soon as he'd locked up the Razor in the Station House 4 cells, had sat down at his desk and took a rag to his boots to get the muck from the laneway off of them.
The detective looked impressed, and George puffed out his chest just a bit. "Very good, George," Detective Murdoch told him. And George didn't mind the Detective calling him 'good,' because "good" also meant of a high quality or standard.
And if George did say so himself, between discovering the shoes and knocking the Razor on his arse in the laneway, he'd done a damned good job.
Author's Note: Okay, okay, so this one's a bit tongue-in-cheek as I talk about writing and details ;) We're having a conversation about the "A" plot to this episode in a Facebook group I'm in, and this oneshot off the "B" plot came from that discussion. But also, when George slides behind the police wagon door and cracks The Razor in the back? Be still my bespectacled heart! LOL.