Realistic or Modern Smoking Guns and Dirty Hands

[FloatingAroundSpace]

Man is the true monster
Private between FloatingAroundSpace and The Corrupted Valkyrie ​

 

[FloatingAroundSpace]

Arthur R. Davidson​

Arthur stared out the window the taxi cab he sat in as the world spun by, the bright lights of the city he would need to call home for however long the case he had been assigned would require him to. His hands were folded in his lap, relaxed despite the pit of unease in his stomach. The case had fallen into the national spotlight when two wealthy children, murdered weeks apart, had striking similarities that the two different precincts in which they had occurred in had realized, comparing notes. The outcry from the community of where they came from was entirely expected and the uproar that followed had forced the FBI to keep an eye on the case as it progressed, though it did not offer its agents quite yet, other more pressing matters being placed before the murders.

And while the entire world seemed to think this meant they didn't care, they did. Arthur felt uncomfortable going to sleep each night knowing that there were children out there that may be targets of a gruesome death. The constant ringing of phones when he went to work and when he left did little to settle the unease around everyone in the office who glanced at their television screens often, wondering where things were headed, wondering when the next body may turn up.

Of course, it did not take long for the next body to turn up, followed by the next and then suddenly there were four dead children instead of two and the public had basically turned against them.

And so, Arthur had gathered up his things and gone upstate to New York City to aid in the investigation, the only one currently available from the office to do so and the only one that could relocate for an indefinite amount of time so easily. His cousin, always a kindly man himself, had offered him the spare bedroom in his apartment and Arthur had graciously taken it, alongside the lunch that he had apparently been experimenting on for his catering business.

"It's healthy, you'll like it," Craig had said airily, waving a hand at him.

"If you say so," had been Arthur's amused response, watching the blonde man flounce out of the apartment, prattling on about some sort of event he had to prepare for.

While he did love his cousin dearly and the two had gone to their first pride together, he was a bit much at times and was always overly enthusiastic. Perhaps it was, as Craig often said, the fact that Arthur's work was darker in nature and tended to harden its workers that he did not really share in his cousin's endless joy for life or want to try out as many new things as he insisted on trying out, dragging him to bars and clubs whenever he got the chance. Perhaps it was that the harsh realities that Arthur was faced with every day made him feel more grounded and more frightened, unwilling to have the flings that Craig had and unwilling to move through life with the reckless abandon that he did.

Arthur glanced down at the laptop bag next to him that contained the case notes that he had been given. He was tempted to take them out, to rifle through them again and again and again, to memorize every letter, every dot, every stain on the page until it was imprinted in the back of his mind, but he thought better of it. The public had given the terrible monster of a man a moniker and that alone had made his stomach churn.

The Tooth Fairy, as if bastardizing a childhood fairy tale was any less dreadful than what the man was doing.

"We're here," the cab driver shouted at him and he sighed, slapping the money into the open palm of the man and swinging his bag over his shoulder, marching into the building and finding the desk up front.

"Officer Arthur Davidson," he said, pulling out his FBI badge and credentials to show the woman. "I'm here to aid with the serial killings that have been going on. May I be directed to the man in charge of the investigation?"

 

[The Corrupted Valkyrie]

Daniel L. Livingston
​

This case had been going on far longer than anyone could have hoped for. It was a nightmare for anyone who had children on their own and parents were keeping tighter leashes on their children. Four so far. Four innocent minds of the world that all had been ripped away from their loved ones before the age of seven; it seemed their killer had a type. At least until the last one showed up at a ten year old girl found hidden in plain sight. Someone was doing all of this right before the eyes of the public and no one was able to provide any details about it.

Each day was longer than the last it seemed. It started first thing in the morning if it had no gone through the night. Collecting evidence, questioning families, neighbors, owners that lived near the area. Analyzing the data, waiting for the reports from the autopsies and DNA samplings. He was beginning to find himself living uncomfortably in his office, there long after the others had left for the night and there before they could show up to work. If it wasn't for his lovely assistant who was making sure Daniel was at least staying fed, he probably would have lost weight during his time of obsession. In his defense though, it was a fair thing to be obsessed about. What they didn't want to confess to the public - none of them - was that everything returned a negative so far. The lone strand of hair found near the first child belonged to a woman who had a rock solid alibi of being out of town, visiting family several states away. The finger print that belonged near the scene of the second child, in their room? Nothing more than family prints. Whoever was doing this was doing a sloppy job with the children but their clean up was meticulous. It was infuriating.

He'd been sitting in his office, the brewed pot of coffee behind him down to the last 1/4th serving. The cup sitting in front of him was cold by now but he was still drinking it. Just much more slowly at this point. His eyes were lined in sleep lines and dark circles, a touch blood shot on the edges from the strain of keeping them open for so long. His stubble a bit more unruly than how he usually kept it; darker now and rather thick over his jaw and neck, almost a beard at this point. He was scribbling away on some paper, a phone pressed against his ear when the line beeped. Putting the caller on hold, he switched over to his secretary, who was informing him that someone up front was there to see him.

"Send him in," Daniel agreed, rubbing his face. By the time Arthur made it in, Daniel was just in the process of finishing up his call. Leaning back, hazel eyes offered the man something of a welcoming expression and he motioned towards the seat in front of him. "Welcome," he said. Even his voice was strained from not getting a break by this point. "Mr. Davidson, the chief told me you were coming. I just got all the results back from the last case. Nothing." He slide the file over towards the other, not bothering to warn him of the pictures inside. If he was here for this case, he'd already seen plenty. Didn't seem like Daniel was in the mood for meet and greet right now; his mind was focused and on the task at hand.

 

[FloatingAroundSpace]

Arthur R. Davidson​

Arthur glanced around at the room he had been taken into, drinking in the sights of what clearly was an over-stressed man. With good reason, too; the case had made national headlines and the ever-mounting public pressure was surely eating away at the man's health, both mental and physical. The pot of coffee was clearly another result of that.

Arthur offered a quick smile, sitting in the chair he was offered, unbuttoning his jacket to reveal the neat collared shirt underneath, clean and a faded blue. He had hoped to make a good impression on the man he was to meet and no doubt work long hours with for god knows how long and a well put together appearance often helped matters.

"It's not to meet you Officer Livingston," Arthur said, hopefully with the appropriate amount of levity for the situation. He did not want to seem over enthusiastic given the dark subject matter, but the man clearly needed some sort of energy to strike him back up from the pit he had sank into, no doubt due to the darkness of the case. "I've reviewed the previous victims and understand that you have struggled to find a way to pin anything on any suspects, if I am to understand the test results correctly."

He pulled the offer file closer to him and opened it, grimacing slightly at the graphic images. "Poor girl," he said, moving the images so they were all spread out before him, blood splattered across the scene. He found the autopsy file and scanned it, revealing the same brutality all others had faced and the missing teeth.

"So I assume we're going off the assumption that these killings are not well-premeditated," he said, leaning back and staring at the man across from him. "From what it seems, these individuals have very little to do with one another, especially the vast difference between the first two and the next two. There's no clear link, which seems to suggest that someone simply finds a child and..." He let himself trail off, knowing where the sentence was going.

"You've spoken extensively with the families, I presume?"