Serial Experiment

Wilson completed the day’s work late in the afternoon and made his way to the local Peace station. It was a daunting building over on Berry Court, festooned with granite columns and dark brickwork. He had never had the need to go inside before, and found it to be fairly pleasant, with a wide open area inside, not unlike a warehouse, or one of the larger indoor bazaars that populated the Wharf District. He very rarely made it over to that side of town, but he had always found the hustle and bustle of so much commerce strangely thrilling. It always reminded him of the great battles he read about in his books, only with fewer swords and more fish.

The station was more subdued, of course, the officers were not in a constant bidding war to sell their wares. People were milling around, moving from desk to desk, delivering messages, conferring with the other officers. This was the work of justice being done. With this much activity, he thought, surely they can work out any problem. He hoped that they were making progress on finding Tooth’s killer. It didn’t seem right that someone that would do something like that, especially to someone like Tooth, would be allowed to roam free. But the sight gave him hope, justice would no doubt be served any time now, the Peace would be kept. He wondered if maybe they had caught the culprit already.

Two things suddenly dawned on him. The first was that he had now been standing at the entrance of the station, staring out over the proceedings apparently engrossed for a few minutes now without moving or making any attempt to actually accomplish anything, which he thought would no doubt seem a bit strange, and possibly suspicious. The second was that he had absolutely no idea how to go about finding Officer Davies, assuming he was even here. He hadn’t considered the possibility that the man would actually be out doing real Peace keeping. He assumed he would need to ask someone about it, but he realized he really had no idea where to even begin.

He shook himself out of his self imposed stupor and began to more closely inspect his immediate surroundings. He spotted a reception desk area off to his right, supposedly used to file complaints. He wondered if that was where he was supposed to go, and sincerely hoped not, the line was terribly long, wrapping back upon itself like a snake curled up for a nap. It looked like it would be at least an hour before he could actually ask if he was even in the right place, much less where he could locate Officer Davies, or if he could get any updates on the case, or if he could get the keys to the Read it and Weep.

Fortunately Officer Davies solved the problem for him by returning to the precinct. “Mr. Pool!” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m glad I found you. I was actually just calling on you at your apartment, and was sorry I had missed you.”

“Officer.” Wilson replied, shaking the man’s hand. “I’m sorry for the confusion. I decided to come straight here after work to find you. Do you have any update on the case?”

Davies sighed and shook his head. “Unfortunately yes,” he replied slowly, “I’m sorry to tell you this Mr. Pool, but we are going to have to close down the case unsolved.”