First damn day on the job and our Cap goes missin' like a fart in a tornado. I didn't figure the Dead End P.D. would exactly be getting cats outta trees but now I can see just how bad things really are. Place has a few, good, honest hard-workin' souls out here that just can't seem to catch a break while others are drownin' themselves in whatever they can get their hands on.
 
Talkin' to people in that state is bound to turn up nothin' anyway and a big fat lot of it. In my travellin', I'd seen some places that look nice on the surface and have this Texas Chainsaw thing goin' for it underneath but at least people didn't live in fear of degenerates. This place sorta looks like everyone that ever lost hope just kinda gathered in one spot and waited for the other shoe to drop.
 
I'd found a nice little P.I. that needed some work and pulled her in. Chief wasn't happy. Yeah, whatever. No amount of talkin' did any good there. One of our own missin' and she's worried about a P.I. or whether I'm any damn good at this. Truth be told, I ain't. Way I got it figured, if this police force were "up to snuff" as she put it, Cap Morrissey would still be hangin' around handin' out orders and crime wouldn't be a problem.
 
Yeah, I assured her I would pull the P.I. from the case and do it all on my own unless someone decided they wanted to join in the search but, seein' as how she's only worried about a damn P.I., I thought I'd just leave her on the case. Then I went back to where I'd left her to find her gone...looks like someone decided to pull her from the case permanently.
 
I'm at the point where I'm making a safe bet that I'm gonna wind up in a bodybag or floatin' in a sewer somewhere. So if I'm now on borrowed time, I'm gonna do things my way. No more runnin' things by the Chief unless she wants to become partners with a rookie. Yeah, yer welcome, darlin'.
 
While I was pokin' around lookin' for my former partner, that's when two of 'em showed up. One of 'em claimed to be a reporter and I swore I could recognize the other one but my damn swiss-cheese memory was playin' hell on me. We'd gone into the sublevel of Dead Lock to take a look and, sure enough, ran into damn trouble. Seems that one of the guards, an administrator and someone from Dead End City Council were there touring the place and the Councilwoman did not look happy with what she saw. Then I showed up with these two in costumes (I'm still wonderin' what the hell that was all about) and I can only imagine that things went downhill from there.
 
The reporter lady bolted, asking the other one to gather some samples. I started askin' the other one (dressed as a cop, no less) what she was lookin' for before checkin' myself. If there hadn't been blood on the floor of that interrogation room, I'd have taken her in for more questioning myself. I ain't much for blood.
 
I still remember Sister Margaret back at the monastery. Stigmata case, she was and she'd begin just bleedin' all over the place. I didn't stay in her company long enough to know what the hell was goin' on there. She scared the daylights outta me. You can only imagine what was happenin' in my brain when I saw that. The really weird part is that, while she's gatherin' up samples, I'm hearin' that councilwoman screamin'. I'd had enough on my plate for the time bein' and didn't wanna get myself wrapped up in any entanglments, I just asked the "cop lady" to get a move on. It might have only taken her two minutes but it seemed like a damn eternity. Then, we hauled ass. Let those guys deal with whatever the councilwoman wanted, I have three missing persons cases to solve; Cap Morrissey, my damn partner and another girl name Trixie. Let's hope that whatever she wanted with that blood, it didn't belong to any of the above.