New York City
There are empty cobbleston streets. Crooked buildings and a rapidly clanging bell breaks the silence from afar.
Two constables clamor round a corner, their lanterns held high listening. They rush into an alleyway. Elsewhere, piers border the Hudson River. The bell is louder. The two constables arrive searching. They see no one. One of them hefts his pistol, scared. "Where are you?"
"Here! Over here!" They hear a man at the end of the river's edge.
Down a hill, the man is waist deep in water and tosses away his alarm bell. "I need you help with this."
The second constable crosses on the pier above. The first constable moves forward wary of what he will find. The man grunts, lifting something.
"Constable Reid? Spencer reid…is that you?"
The man turns. Spencer Reid, handsome, awkward and his hazel eyes piercing.
"Yes, it is me, But not only me…" He lifts something and is struggling. "…I found someone here…" He drags a bloated male corpse up from the murky water. "Someone quite dead."
Watchhouse/Jail
The elderly High Constable lifts a blanket off the corpse on a wheelbarrow manned by one of the two constables and a snobby magistrate looks disgusted. The other constable and Spencer wait.
"Burn it." The High Constable ordered.
"Yes, sir."
The other constable wheels the corpse inside and Spencer is annoyed.
"Just a moment…if I may. It is possible this man was murdered." Spencer tries to explain the other two men in the room.
"He drowned. Anyone could see." The High Constable argued.
"There are surgical ways of telling how he died…by the water in his lungs…" Spencer follows the High Constable and the Magistrate inside of the watchhouse.
The second constable wheels the body ahead past many tables and a jailer moves to unlock a massive door.
"He will be burned pursuant to statutes of health."
"I could determine if he were dead before he went into the Hudson."
"Must we again hear these heretical rantings?"
"Yes, must we?" The magistrate asks equally annoyed.
"There is nothing heretical about science, sir. The Chinese have written on it for hundreds of years…procedural study used to solve seemingly unsolvable crimes."
The door opens and the corpse again leads the way.
The door leads to a two-tiered prison, alive with moans of agony and cries of insanity. Cells are full of wretched men in chains and iron gags. Spencer notices that many are against the bars watching.
"Our first night watch is adequate against fire and some violence, but if we were more often able to ensure justice, after the fact, then criminals would truly have something to fear from law enforcement."
"Have they nothing to fear presently, Constable Reid?"
"Without disrespect, look around you." He motions to the cells. "We overflow. As do our courts."
"And, with disrespect, Constable, if jails and courts overflow, it is testimony to success, not failure."
"But, how many victims are buried without reprisal while guilty men roam our streets?"
The High Constable reaches his desk and takes a seat. The guards wait to process beaten, bloody prisoners. "Very few, if any."
"Even though I have seen confessions pried from the lips of the lips of the accused, often quite literally?"
"For one who calls himself a Federalist, your mouth reeks of Republican liberalism.
"Not Liberalism. Equanimity." Spencer corrects him.
"Um, sir…might I suggest…" The magistrate whispers in the High Constable's ear. Spencer notices with worry that both of the constables wheel corpse onwards into another room.
The magistate finishes and the High constable smiles faintly. "There is a farming community upstate, Constable…ten days journey north in the Hudson Highlands. It is named Sleepy Hollow. Within a fortnight, three persons have been murdered there. Each with their head lopped cleanly off."
"Lopped off?" Spencer asks nervously.
"The elders of the Hollow have sent dispatches to me, requesting assistance, and now, just this very moment, I have chosen you."
"Chosen me?"
"These methods of yours…there has been no practical application."
"Not for lack of trying."
"Just so. Granted. And so you take your experimentations to Sleepy Hollow and catch the murderer who has tainted the place. Bring him here to face our good justice. Will you do this for me?"
"I shall, gladly." Spencer swallows nervously.
"Excellent. Then, you are excused till morning."
Spencer moves away, heading to where the corpse was taken.
"Oh, and, Constable…do make certain that you meet with success. Otherwise…perhaps you should not come back at all."
The High Constable smiles a sadistic smile.
Spencer frowns as he enters the other room. What he sees makes him grimaces as he sees the corpse burn in a raging furnace and he hears the flesh sizzle. One of the constables pumps bellows which fan the flames. Spencer steps from darkness nearby. He watches with bitter regret as the corpe is consumed.
Seriously how sadistic is the department that Spencer works in? Tell me your thoughts?