"You won't believe this, Mike."
He recognized the look in his partner's eyes from afar, that foreboding sense whenever he walked into a crime scene. Still wearing the light blue vest and checkered tie from the previous night, the two partners met again in a setting that felt like a strange and ironic sort of déjà-vu.
"Worse than you sneaking out in the morning without waking me up to tell me it's time to get ready for work?"
By now, a squadron of black-and-whites had descended upon 16th and Kansas, blocking off most of the four lanes in an effort to preserve any potential clues left behind. A few shop owners had gathered outside their respective store fronts, too busy watching them wrap up a murder scene to take care of their customers.
"In this case, I'd have to say so.", Steve countered and pointed at the still body below the white sheet, before lowering his voice to prevent passerby's from hearing him, "Roy Sullenger himself has decided to grace our department with his presence."
Glancing back and forth between the body and his partner, it took Mike the fraction of a second to make the connection.
"Back there? The body? That's Roy Sullenger? You gotta be kidding me."
Shaking his head slightly, Steve retrieved the plastic bag from his dark gray suitcoat, containing their victim's wallet, then handed it over to Mike.
"Sure wish I was. There was a receipt in his wallet from the "Bottom Of The Hill", down the road. Already sent one of Steward's guys down there to ask questions, and Sullenger was there until four this morning. Apparently, they were open all of Thanksgiving and into the wee hours today."
"What does the body look like?", Mike asked, his mind already several steps ahead, dreading the death of one of the best-known local actors and talk show hosts, "Hit and run maybe?"
"That's what I thought at first too, but no. I found his leather coat on the crosswalk, but his skull was caved in by a brick after he arrived on the other side of the road. Brick was still there. I didn't see too many defensive wounds, besides scraped knuckled and broken finger nails. No money was missing from his wallet. I got a call into Bernie but he's an hour out yet, same with the lab crew."
"The last time I listened to his show while I was making dinner, he was talking about the holidays and how some of us spend them alone. Word has it he went through a pretty nasty divorce, no kids. Seems like a good starting point, if you ask me."
"Could be he was drowning his sorrows at the bar. The owner said that Sullenger had put on shows there in the past, but as his fame grew, he moved from small venues to larger ones only. Something about the entertainer's creed, and how you don't come back to perform where you came from."
Sighing as he glanced back over at the body beneath the sheet, Mike's eyes narrowed to tight slats, his decades of experience causing his mind to work overtime early that morning, an undeniable sense of determination radiating through every pore of his body.
"Well, this hits me like a deliberate murder. Somebody didn't like what Roy Sullenger said or stood for."