Masquerade

I arrived at the Masquerade at seven, the traffic wasn't that bad though when you have a detachable police siren it'll make driving in San Francisco easier. I parked my black Thunderbird near the police yellow taped line, I had my identification for the STF squad around my neck as I went to the trunk of my car. I grabbed my black jumpsuit and slipped it on, you never could tell how crime scenes were. It was always a good plan to plan for the worse, Mr Positive.

I grabbed my forensic kit from the back as well before I closed the trunk, I headed towards the yellow tape as one of the uniforms lifted it up for me. I nodded my thanks as I walked the dank alleyway, the neon sign of the Masquerade lay dormant as I walked past. There was a crowd of uniforms and others around a dumpster, I guessed that who ever had died lay beyond me sight.

Bruce sed med me as he began to walk over, we met half way. His surgical gloves covered in blood, never a good sign.

"It's on the otherside of the dumpster, tell me what you think."

I nodded, I knew the drill. He couldn't say anything to distinct for I had to look at the body with a clean slate, another nice choice of words on my part.

I placed my tackle box full of forensic gear at my feet as I grabbed a pair of surgical gloves, I placed them on my hands in a fluid moment. They always felt chalky against my fingers. I took a deep breath as I grabbed my forensic kit. I prepared myself for what lay on the opposite side of the grey dumpster, God knew otherwise.