Garret Macy looked at the man working next to him. The usually relaxed young man looked tense. He had noticed it when they had run into the man in the hall, the two of them, his coworker and the stranger had glared at each other, a look of pure unrestrained hate. The atmosphere felt so thick that Garret could cut it with a knife.
He shook his head and focused on the case at hand. He'd talk to Nigel about it later, right now he had a dead body to focus on. The case looked fairly cut and dried, at least so far as the ME's office was concerned. A bullet to the head, and from the look of it the body had been dead a good hour or so.
Woody had already ID'd the man as Bartolo D'Antoniati, and he'd pass that on to Lilly so that she could go about locating a next of kin for the man. Garret finished and stood up. "Garret, I'll just wait for Mr. Blaine to call and get back to you with what he knew when he showed up." Woody caught the ME on his way towards the door.
"Blaine?" Garret questioned, pausing where he was.
"Yeah, Rick Blaine, the man who found the body." the other man froze.
"six-two, black hair, blue eyes, sickeningly charming Irish accent?" The Brit asked the detective.
"Yeah, Nigel, that's him. You saw him in the hall? He's a buisness associate of Mr. D'Antoniati" Before Nigel could answer another of the officers on the scene held up a book.
"Hey, dectective Hoyt, looks like our guy here was a bookie, and a failure at it as well, this guy was paying out more on a regular basis than he ever took in."
"Rick Blaine." Garret mused for a minute. "Casablanca." He said, realizing where he knew the name from. Woody's eyes lit up.
"Get an APB for him, I can do a full description of him later, but at the moment he's going by Rick Blaine." Woody was out the door in an instant.
Garret and Nigel followed him, albeit rather more slowly, they had nowhere to be, it was up to Woody and the Boston PD to track down this mysterious Mr. Blaine, not them. They reached Garret's SUV and after chucking his bag in the back, Garret got into the car and glared at Nigel.
"What the hell went on back there?" He asked the younger man as he put the car into gear.
"There's something about that man Garret, that I know I recognize, and there's something about him that I utterly dislike"
"I think you're letting a first impression get too under your skin." Nigel shrugged as they drove off back to the familiar halls of the mourge.