Sedimentary, My Dear Watson
These events follow directly after Moonlighting Hero Work.
Though the siren itself was silent, the continued flashing of the patrol car's lights sent odd red and blue shadows chasing along the walls of the alley. A plume of steam that leaked half-heartedly from a vent a few feet up was turned into a feeble, stuttering glow by the dim light cast from a flickering street lamp. Breath rose up to meet it, frozen into clouds by the chill in the autumn night air.
Fighting hard against the urge to shiver, Detective John Jackson dug a hand deep into the inside pocket of his overcoat, fishing around for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He held the box to his ear and shook it gently, only a dull rattle eminating from within. Flipping it open and digging out the last cigarette, he stuffed the container back into his coat. A metal click and a barely audible breath of flame later, Jackson sucked warmth deep into his lungs and held it there for a moment, a few whispers of smoke escaping from his nostrils before he blew the remainder out through his lips, sending it drifting upwards to join the tangle of clouds.
Everything about him seemed ruffled, from the tireness that tugged at his eyes, the hair he hadn't bothered to fix after being dragged out of bed, and the clothes from yesterday hurridly thrown on as he made for the door. A tired headache had already begun to congregate at his forehead, although the nicotine infusion helped to unravel that a little. It'd do for now, until he managed to get his hands on some coffee.
The uniforms had been busy: tape already advertised to passers by that the alley was now a crime scene, although truth be told no one had yet been able to identify what crime had been committed. A path of destruction carved its way along the walls, the outer layer of brickwork torn free, exposing the concrete blocks beneath. In some places, holes had been torn through into the rooms behind; from the look of the neighbourhood though, it was unlikely that anyone - or anything of value - was inside. The bricks liberated from the wall hadn't travelled far: they littered the alley for fifty yards or so, and from the sound of things another similar site of slightly lesser destruction had been found at the far end.
Shaking his head, Jackson took another long drag on his cigarette, and set his sights on a cluster of uniforms, his partner standing in their midst. He offered a silent nod of greeting as he approached. "Why you gotta wake me up so damn early, man?" came back as a reply.
Though understandable, and indeed echoed by himself, Jackson ignored his partner's negative sentiments at having been rudely awoken at three am, and plucked the cigarette from his mouth. "What have we got?" he asked instead.