The car sputtered and in that moment he mentally kicked himself for not remembering to stop for gas before schlepping out to the docks in the middle of the night. As his unfueled vehicle rolled to a leisurely stop he considered his options. It seemed like a midnight stroll was in order and there are certainly worse things. He'd always enjoyed the damp after all, reminded him of home. The fog was beginning to clear somewhat and he noticed an odd, solitary heap on the side of the road about a hundred feet ahead. Dixon Hill stepped out onto the pavement and moved towards it, always the investigator.
As he drew nearer he realized with a world weary sinking in his gut that there was a shoe attached to the heap. He'd seen enough murders to last anyone 10 lifetimes but at least for now he wasn't a target which was a nice change of pace. Dix sighed and leaned over the body, assessing it's characteristics. Well dressed, good quality suit, nice leather shoes, looked like they hadn't been worn much, clean hands and fingernails, recent shave and haircut, nothing in the pockets. And so another mystery had begun. Standing up he wondered if he'd end up getting paid for this...
to be continued when i've had more sleep :)
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