When the sun began to set on a quiet afternoon in Los Angeles, the District 27 West Side Station was buzzing with activity. Officers were scurrying about, radios crackling with updates and urgent requests for backup. Amidst this organized chaos, the heavy wooden door creaked open and a tall figure strode in, his eyes scanning the room.
The receptionist at the desk looked up from her work, momentarily stunned by the sudden intrusion. Papers were scattered haphazardly across her desk, evidence of the long and arduous day she had endured. Yet, despite her fatigue, she couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation as the imposing stranger advanced toward her.
As the man strode up to the receptionist's desk, she couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between his disarming smile and his intimidating scars. His short black hair framed his face, drawing attention to his piercing light blue eyes. But it was the two distinctive scars that stood out - a vertical mark cutting through his left eye, and a small horizontal blemish etched onto his right cheekbone.
Despite his striking appearance, the man's friendly demeanor put the receptionist at ease. With a charming smile, he placed his badge on the desk and spoke with a smooth, confident voice. "Hi there, I'm Val Griffith," he said. "I just got transferred here and it's my first day. Could you please point me in the direction of the chief's office?"
Val Griffith's easy smile had an immediate effect on the receptionist. She found herself relaxing in his presence, her initial trepidation melting away as they chatted. "Oh, yes!" she exclaimed. "You're Val Griffith! There had been some whispers around here about a detective being transferred from NYPD."
As they spoke, Val's charm and professionalism quickly won her over. The receptionist found herself enjoying the conversation, the tension of the day fading into the background. After giving him directions to the chief's office, Val thanked her politely and made his way down the hall.
While walking down the hall, the people in it couldn't help but stare at his scarred face. Murmurs of curiosity and speculation rippled through the crowd as they glanced nervously at one another. Some avoided his gaze altogether, intimidated by the rough and rugged appearance that seemed to precede him.
Val arrived at the chief's office and knocked respectfully on the door. "Enter," came the chief's gruff voice.
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Val entered the room and was greeted by the enthusiastic chief. "Ah, Val! Great to see you!" the chief said, offering him a seat.
"Thank you, but I'll stand," Val replied politely.
The chief shrugged, then got straight to the point. "I don't know why my superiors transferred you from the NYPD to the LAPD, but that doesn't matter now. What does matter is this case." He handed Val a thick case file. "We've got a frozen body in the lake, and I need you to solve this case with the SSR."
Val took the file and nodded gravely. "Understood, Chief. I'll do my best."
"Good luck," the chief said as Val turned to leave. "And don't hesitate to come to me if you need anything."
Exiting the chief's office, Val scanned the room, taking in the various detectives and officers who were working diligently at their desks. His gaze eventually settled on Andrew Henry, who appeared to be wiping his nose with a handkerchief, his eyes slightly red.
Approaching Andrew Henry with a friendly smile, Val extended his hand in greeting. Andrew, who was seated at his desk, looked up, taken aback by Val's sudden appearance.
"Good morning, Detective Henry," Val said, his voice warm and welcoming. "I'm Detective Griffith, transferred here from NYPD. I've been assigned to investigate the case of the frozen body in the lake, and I understand that you were the first on the scene."
Andrew's expression tightened ever so slightly, but he forced a smile and engaged in small talk with Val for a few minutes. However, as their conversation progressed, Andrew began to feel increasingly uncomfortable.
Feeling the tension in the air, Val couldn't help but smirk as Andrew excused himself and walked away.
While watching Andrew walk away, Val couldn't help but smirk to himself. 'I already know that you were hired to take care of the body,' he thought, watching Henry retreat. 'It doesn't matter how much you try to hide it.'
Meanwhile,
In the bustling office of the Los Angeles Branch of the SSR, Peggy was seated on a chair opposite Sousa's large desk. Sousa, who was busy with paperwork, looked up and asked, "What did you want to talk about, Peggy?"
Peggy took a deep breath and said, "I know that Thompson gave my name to you when you asked for help regarding this case."
"Tch! What a useless and petty man!" Peggy exclaimed, her frustration with Thompson palpable.
Sousa smiled wryly and asked, "So, what are your conditions for helping us, Peggy?"
Peggy's expression turned serious as she replied, "If you want my help, you have to accept my requests."
Sousa sighed, knowing that Peggy could be quite demanding at times, and said, "As long as it's not too much, I am fine with it."
Peggy leaned forward and placed a photo of Val on Sousa's desk. "I want this guy to help me on the case," she said with conviction.
Sousa picked up the photo and studied it. "Why him?" he asked.
"He has been recommended by high-ranking U.S. officials and he is reputed to be very good at his job," Peggy replied.
Sousa considered the photo again and then nodded. "Alright, I'm willing to give him a chance," he said.
"Great. That's all for now," Peggy said, rising from her chair and grabbing her purse. "Thanks, Sousa." She said her goodbyes and exited the office, leaving Sousa to mull over the addition of a new detective to their team.