The Detective and His Assistant

[NotAllThatCreative]

(@Gabriel Levesque )


There was a loud noise in the back of her mind and she wanted so desperately to ignore it. She knew she couldn't though. It was her first day at a new facility and she had all day yesterday to sleep which she spent it cleaning up her new home. She let out a small groan and reached out from under her blanket, feeling around on her nightstand for the source of the loud beeping. Once she felt her phone in her hands, she pulled it under the blanket and unlocked it, turning the alarm off.


Lacey pushed the blankets to the side and sat up, glancing around. It was six in the morning and she was expected at work at seven thirty. She rubbed one of her eyes and swung her legs over to the side, getting out of the bed. Sighing quietly, she walked over to her dresser and opened up one of the drawers, digging through it. She pulled out a simple pair of dress pants, not in the mood to wear a skirt today, and a nice shirt before slipping out of her room. She walked down the hall and into the bathroom.


She emerged from the little bathroom after a few minutes, her wild curls somewhat tamed and she didn't look nearly as sleepy as before. Fixing her shirt, her feet led her down the hall and into the little kitchen. She made herself a small breakfast, toast and coffee only, and finished it quickly before making her way into the main room. Gathering up her bag, she slipped on her coat and stepped out of the house, locking the door behind her after she closed it. Looking around, she noticed that it was snowing out and frowned lightly. She hated walking in the snow but since her work was close, she always walked to work and that's exactly what she started to do.

 

[Gabriel Levesque]

As the morning light streamed in through the slight part in the room's curtains, it struck the wide-open eyes of Henri Maxwell du Pont. It wasn't insomnia that had woken him; rather, he didn't see the need for superfluous sleep when more productive things could be don. So, at precisely 6:15 AM, Henri stirred from his motionless state, swung his legs over the side of his bed, and purposefully strode out of his bedroom. His bare feet slapped the hardwood of the large Kensington townhouse owned by the Du Pont family. Entering his lavish bathroom, he shed his sleepwear as he walked directly into his walk-in shower, the lights and shower turning on automatically by sensing his movement.


Henri compartmentalized the day's tasks as the hot water rushed over his body. He'd just closed several cold cases that had turned out to be perpetrated by the same man: a serial killer that went by the name "The Surgeon". Needless to say, his crime scenes were not for the faint of heart. Targeting what seemed to be random victims, the killer had escaped being pinned to all the murders by avoiding a predictable MO. However, he'd never met the likes of Henri. Classifying the killer as an opportunistic killer driven by the most horrid of psychopathic impulses, Henri was able to track the man to an abandoned marina, where the killer was finally arrested. In fact, it had been one of Henri's easier cases, all things considered, after Henri had found the key similarity in the victim's lives. Too easy, in fact. Something about the case still struck him as odd, but he resolved to worry about that later. Presently, he'd received a new case just last night, and he focused all his attention on that.


Stepping out of his shower, which turned itself off once he left, Henri dried himself quickly. In a few short minutes, he'd shaved, brushed, and was back in his bedroom. Henri cared about appearance, one of the only material things he took pride in. As usual, he decided upon a crisp white shirt, an impeccably tailored suit, and a silk, navy blue tie. Once dressed, Henri made his way downstairs, eating a quick breakfast of oatmeal that Diana, his resident housekeeper, had made before she went off to the morning farmer's market for fresh ingredients. Putting on his usual overcoat, Henri exited his residence at exactly 7:00 AM. Technically, he was supposed to be in at 6:30 AM, but punctuality was not one of his fortes, and he didn't really give a damn about it either. The driver, George, greeted his employer, opened the door to the black Mercedes, and handed Henri a cup of hot black coffee, just the way Henri preferred it.


Opening the files he grabbed on his way out the door, Henri began to read the details of his newest case. A high street cartel specializing in selling and smuggling high-value, black market merchandise to anonymous buyers had just recently been busted by Scotland Yard. They'd arrested quite a few members, including Alexander Birchman, the leader of the gang. However, recently, an influx of uncut, precious gems became known to the Yard, and the method and purported buyers all match Birchman's crew. As such, Henri decided it would be prudent to pay Alexander a visit in his prison cell. Unfortunately for Henri, who prefers to work solo, the chief commissioner stipulated that he'd have to work with the psychology department. What's worse is that he'd heard he'd be dealing with a young psychologist who would no doubt be looking to prove him or herself. If Henri had anything to say about it, he'd overstep them completely. With that resolve, he relaxed his mind and sipped his coffee as George finished the drive to the prison.

 

[NotAllThatCreative]

Lacey opened up one of the main entrance doors to the prison and stepped inside. She was greet by a sudden blast of warm air and her eyes drifted around. Glancing around, she noticed that the place was buzzing about and it was just barely an hour into the morning work shift. She shook her head and walked over to the main desk, looking towards the woman that was working there. "Excuse me," Her voice came forth after a few seconds of standing there and she glanced around before back at the blonde woman in front of her.


"Second floor." The woman informed before Lacey could even begin to ask her question and that made the small woman frown lightly. "Thank you." Lacey grumbled and stepped away from the desk. She shook her head and let out a long sigh. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she started to make her way down the hall and towards the stairs. She wasn't one for elevators, they frightened her to a degree. Her eyes drifted around and she seen that everyone was chipper and ready to start the day. She wished she had that kind of energy in the morning.


"This is going to be a long day..." Lacey muttered to herself as she spotted the stairs and started to make her way up them. She stuffed her hands into her pockets and kept her eyes to the ground. Last thing she wanted to do was look at someone the wrong way and have them get angry at her. That very situation has happened to her so many times since she first graduated college. She really didn't want to irritate the prisoners this time because that makes for very violent and unsettling situations. It was one of the reasons why she transferred to a different facility and took on a different approach with her career.

 

[NotAllThatCreative]

(Are we going to continue this?)

 

[Gabriel Levesque]

(My apologies. I am currently in an area of very weak internet connection. I'll most likely be able to continue this weekend or the next.)

 

[NotAllThatCreative]

(Alright. That's fine.)