Jon sighed as he chugged his cappuccino latte. It had been, a not so long day, and yet he had already been rapid-fired with case questions, and scandalous, long standing court cases with new celebrities to be brought in.
He had thought that his detective firm would honestly have something more juicy to work on. As it used to have when it had just been founded. Like say, a murder or an attempted one, which might have required a slight amount of brain work instead of the thoughtless routine that was requested of them.
He idly stared out of his office, looking at the dew encrusted leaves as if they would give him a good case to work on.
Jon belonged to a detective firm, probably one of the best in the state. Though he had been a fairly new recruit, he had still proved to be invaluable to the previous cases that they had been employed for.
The firm itself was headquartered at a gorgeous locale, with high rise buildings on either side and a patch of wild trees on all side.
They had been called one of the most secretive organisations affiliated with the government. Even more so than the myriad secret services, though they were only brought in when there was a particularly baffling case, they were still called on quite often. Most of the time though, they worked as an autonomous private detective organisations.
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They comprised of only a few members, though all of them excelled at their own field. Their boss Padma usually dealt with all the tedious processes but evidently she had required a break.
She had been the one who had brought each of them in, she had given them a job, and had trained them as any competent company head would do. So he guessed, she probably deserved a break.
He filed through the available cases, his fingers moving expertly through the pile of papers, consciously ignoring the more tedious, boring, and potential exhausting cases.
His cup, already forgotten lay on his table, as he adjusted his shirt. He had decided on a case, though it was a particularly boring case, atleast he could use it to calm his girlfriend, he thought.
His boss, Bernard, Padma's husband, walked down the isle. His hands thrummed against each other as his grey black eyes scanned through the room.
He wore a faded scarlet tie, over his striped white shirt. His faded jeans seemed too loose for him, and his graying hair gave others the image of a kindly grandpa when they looked at him. His clean shaven face glimmered under the stinging light of the bulb.
He was the head of external affairs of the company, as he had always been. Padma had bailed him out of prison for attempted murder, or so the police said. But of course, as it always is, politics was involved. He had offended a politician's son, by scratching his brand new car, and making away with the brat's wife.
As you could expect, he was imprisoned. The thing about him was that, no one really knew how he got his information, but it was always the most legit out there.
He smiled brightly as he approached me, his amiable expression turning to that of a professional problem-solver.
"There has been a new one, an exciting one, you probably will like it. A journalist was murdered, and it looks pretty bad. You'll probably like it!" He said with his exuberant expression.