By the time the police had arrived at the Alibi Room a good ninety percent of its patrons had mysteriously disappeared into the night, as well the several small tabbies and a white Persian cat from the poker game, leaving lonesome skinny black kitten which Willy was at a loss of how he was going to explain the cat. Willy was stood behind the bar anxiously wringing his hands, murder was always bad for business; it had taken Willy years to create a feeling of sanctuary from the human world in his bar. No doubt his profits would drop and knowing Willy’s luck this would become a hotspot for human tourists and that would mean the kitten poker trade would move elsewhere. For some reason humans tended to freak out of the idea of kittens being used for monetary value, it didn’t bother Willy, he was allergic to cats anyway, all that matter to him was the big fat pay off he got for hosting the games.
The English guy, Spike he said was his name, was on his tenth cigarette and currently being watched by a cop the size of a small mountain. Cops never trusted vamps, even though most were quite happy to abide by human laws and rules, but like in every section of society there are a few bad apples. Only last year two cops were mauled by a feral vampire, for two weeks while they hunted the vamp down, the media screamed for vampires to be outlawed and a mob practically lynched an innocent vampire and nearly burnt it alive, the police hadn’t even tried to arrest any of the mob. Since then most smart vampires had kept a low profile, keeping to known demon areas. The divide between the normal and the paranormal seem more obvious than ever before.
The CSI guys weren’t working nearly as fast as the ones on TV, finger print dust hung thick in the air as everywhere was searched, dusted and bagged. Willy reckoned they would be here another hour if the didn’t find the secret door on the bar's floor, the witch he hired to do the cloaking spell over it said only a pro would spot it. A commotion was going on at the entrance and that could only mean the detectives had arrived. Willy peered from behind his position behind, whoever had arrived had caught Spike’s eye as well Willy noted to himself.
***
Buffy had called Willow to meet her at the crime scene as soon as Xander had informed her of the second victim, Alistair Campbell, had been found. The body had been discovered in a beer cellar at a demon bar on one of the rough sides of town, call Willy’s Place. Not the most original name for a bar Buffy had thought to herself, according to the first officers there they had a suspect in custody. The bar was pretty run down from the outside and Buffy suspected it wasn't going to be much better on the inside, by the looks of it humans weren’t welcome, even had a little sign on the door saying that the management was not responsible for any damages to property or person while you were on the premises. Why couldn't demons hang out in nice airy, well light, trendy wine bars? Buffy thought to herself then at least she won’t have to worry what she stood in.
A cop stood at the door waiting for her, Buffy didn’t recognise him he was probably new, and he was looking kinda green. Which explained why he got stuck on door duty, Xander had probably wanted to prevent him from throwing up and contaminating the crime scene. She flashed her badge and his eyes widen, this was his first meeting with the paranormal division, his eyes flipped upwards towards Buffy’s face and looked surprised as if she didn’t fit his mental picture of a paranormal detective. He pushed the door open and Buffy step in with a brief nod of thanks before heading into the crime scene.
There were on four people in the main area of the bar, a nervous guy who looked uncannily like rat was stood behind the stained bar, a lean pale guy with bleached blonde hair and a long black leather duster was sat at the counter smoking a cigarette with a weary look on his face. Xander was stood near a broken jukebox having a quiet but very angry conversation with a cop the size of a small mountain. Buffy caught they eyes of the man with the long black coat, they were peculiarly bright shade of light blue, cerulean blue Buffy thought. The rat guy said something to the bleached blonde and he raised a scarred eyebrow before returning to his half smoked cigarette.
Xander cleared his throat from behind her, he looked tired and worn. Buffy gave him a bright friendly smile.
“So, you got another one.” Buffy asked tilting her head to the side. She caught a glimpse at the other cop that Xander had chewed out he was sending death glares at the bleached blonde guy.
“Yup, this one is little older.” Xander ran his fingers through his hair.
“And you have a suspect?” Buffy enquired, Xander signed heavily. “You didn’t lose him?” She asked lightly.
“No, to both of those questions and what makes you think I would lose a suspect.” Xander snapped testily.
“I was joking Xander, you okay?”
“Not really” He said with a shaky laugh. “The suspect, was actually only a witness apparently vampires are still automatic suspects with this bunch of keystone cops, not only that one of them hurled on my crime scene.” Xander shock his head. “It’s because they still think all vampires are feral. And now the vampire isn’t being cooperative and claiming he didn’t see anything”
“You want me to talk to him?”
“I would buy you an entire box of Krispy Kremes if you did that. He’s the one with bleached blonde hair” Buffy laughed and walked over to the bar.
***
Spike leaned against the bar, taking a long hard drag of the cigarette, feeling the burn of tobacco in the back of his throat, before idly blowing of smoke rings. He had only gone out for a quick quiet drink and now he was in the middle of a murder investigation. According to Willy the blonde woman who had just walked in was a paranormal detective, humans certainly weren’t as stupid as they use to be. There had been a time when vampire attacks were put down as attacks by gangs on PCP. He’d managed to catch most of her conversation with the other detective; vampire hearing was a blessing and a curse.
Bodies always worried Spike, especially this one, there was something he couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was some wrong with it. Well aside from being dead and having its throat slit, it was as if the air around the body tasted wrong kinda like tainted blood. But that wasn’t the most worrying thing about the body, which was the fact this seemed so familiar, he had seen the symbol of the body’s cheek before but like smell he couldn’t place it.
He went for another drag of his cigarette only to find to Spike’s great irritation that it had burnt down to the filter, he stubbed it out in the ashtray burning his finger tips in the process. Dejectedly Spike pulled out his crumpled packet of cigarettes out of the inside pocket of his duster; he tugged out the last cigarette in there. He rolled it idly between his fingers before tapping the unlit end on the bar surface to loosen the tobacco before lighting it up with his old Zippo. He watched the exhaled smoke, blue in the light of the bar; disappear into the atmosphere as the blonde detective walked over to him, no doubt for questioning.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay I know it's been awhile, but my life has turned into a poorily written slap-stick movie, leaving me on crutches 'cause a tripped over the bloody cat! Anyways enough self pity from me, enjoy! Oh if the police stuff is wrong is 'cause I'm English and I'm confusing the Bill (British cop soap opera) with Law and Order. If this chapter seems short its cause the next ones gonna be a big one. Okay this is new (added this comment later) I have decided my story title sucks... Any ideas?