[Danny]

This one's shorter than the last two, closer to my usual chapter length...

Chapter 3

The Police Station was an imposing sight. One of the older buildings in Kryellos, it was built in the same faux-Gothic style as many of the buildings of that period. The matt wrought-iron fence ran all the way round the yard, its only concession to the modern age being its recent electrification. The building itself looked more like a Fortress than a building supposedly intended to house a Public Service. There were only two floors, but the upper floor had battlements running around the roof, with bright, incongruously modern floodlights bearing down on the imposing gates to the complex. It was at these gates that Visk now stood, shivering, clutching at his kit bag. I’m sure they keep you waiting deliberately, he thought, maybe to make sure you know your place…

He’d arrived nearly half an hour earlier, but had discovered that Frack had signed him out as sick, so he had to wait for a messenger to come and verify who he was, and then the messenger had told him that the Boss had to be consulted before any (supposedly) off-duty officers were allowed in. ****ing formalities… It was getting late now (Visk had spent most of the day collecting evidence at the crime scene) and since winter was now closing in, the nights were getting longer, so it was almost dark already. And it was cold. And it was raining. And he had to use his coat to keep his bag of evidence dry, so he was soaked already.

Finally, the messenger returned and told Visk to report to his desk and await an assignment. Once the gates were opened, Visk and the messenger scuttled to the doors as fast as their pants would carry them, united in their eagerness to not become any wetter.

Once inside, Visk made his weary way to his desk, roughly towelling himself off with the inside of his coat. He reached his desk just as Frack returned from a cigarette break. Seeing his colleague, Visk changed direction to meet Frack by his own desk. Leaning over it, his voice low, he said: “It was the same Glukks!”

Visk had thought he’d been speaking quite quietly, and so was a little surprised when Frack clamped his hand over his mouth, hissing: “Not so loud! We got our jobs to think about here!”

Visk tightened his tentacles into a grimace. “Sorry about that, but I’ve got evidence!”

Frack looked over his shoulder nervously, then nodded. “Okay, what’ve yer got?”

Visk took notice of his colleague’s caution, and to care to hide the photographs he’d taken from anyone else in the room as he drew them from his kitbag to show to Frack. “Look at these footprints. Look familiar?”

Frack stared. “They’re the same as…”

“…as the ones we saw outside the hut, exactly! And I spoke to one of the other squatters, who says there were some Glukks around yesterday. It’d be a bit of a coincidence for two different pairs of Glukkons to come to Mudokon habitations shortly before someone dies there, all within a week, wouldn’t it?”

The Sergeant frowned. “We’re taking a huge risk here…”

Visk raised his voice a little, involuntarily. “You promised!”

Frack stuffed the photographs back into Visk’s kitbag and looked round, anxiously. None of the others seemed to have heard them. Visk hung his head a little sheepishly as Frack turned back to him. “I said to keep yer voice down! Okay, look, I’ll help yer investigate, but yer have to keep this quiet; we can’t have the Boss-”

“I see you’re having quite an animated discussion over here…” Visk jumped as the voice boomed out from behind them, then turned to look up at the Boss.

Flakit, the CEO of the Kryellos Constabulary, was an imposing figure. He towered over even the tallest Bigbros in the Riot Squad, and his muscles bulged against the fashionable uniforms he tended to wear, and yet he had a habit of moving almost silently, allowing him to appear behind his officers at the most inopportune moments…