There were police all over, taking samples, talking to each other, talking to Chandler, talking to me. The death of someone in a policeman's apartment apparently drags out an entire army of people all with a specific job. I didn't all know what those jobs were, but I was of course still kind of drunk while they were asking all these questions that implied I did something bad (Chandler was the guy who shot him!) apparently he was some low level bad guy from some lower crime family (organized crime why do you keep coming up in my life? Its like it goes in cycles sometimes you eat a lot of one type of food, sometimes you keep running into organized crime). If he hadn't specifically wanted to kill Chandler I would have suspected someone followed me home (I didn't exactly slink my way back, just hitch hiked). It was a rough couple hours as I sat there and answered questions and demonstrated where everyone was and what they said, by the time it was all said and done I wasn't even drunk anymore which sucked because I liked the drunk feeling, but the tired put upon thing that replaced it was no fun substitute. Eventually everyone found their way out of Chandler's apartment so it was just me and him and the outline of a body with dried blood.
"I thought you were in the magic division of your department?" It was the first thing I had to ask, because I was confused how someone working with magical people could run into the mob.
"Well I haven't always worked for the magic division, and crazily enough magic is involved in a lot of organized crime, a fact which you obviously are probably well aware of." I wasn't actually, but that's more I hadn't dealt in illicit magical stuff for a long time, a fact that shamed me how out of touch I'd become with it.
"Well I have been out of town for a while." Chandler who has also sobered up (killing a man tends to do that to you) gave me a sour look, and then he started smiling in a way that was disconcerting.
"You know you could just be what I need to deal with these assholes."
"Someone who doesn't know them at all? I fail to see," And then it dawned on me, "Nope not going to happen Chandler."
"You'd be perfect, your name is probably already known to these clowns and they'd never suspect someone as arrested as you are with working for us."
"Or they'd suspect it right away based on how often I'm arrested! But I'm not a snitch unless it benefits me, and this would not at all benefit me." Chandler just kept on smiling and I knew I was screwed and sure enough three days later I was standing in front of a cellar door with my hat in my hand and I knew I'd been screwed by some policeman juju. Stupid liking people it makes you do things you totally hate to do!
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