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puts this case entirely within my jurisdiction.”
    “But don't you think you're a little young for this? Wouldn't a detective with more experience do a better job?”
    Jack's eyes narrowed as he stared at the man. He held a microphone out in front of him, a look of pleasure in his bespectacled eyes as he goaded Jack, looking for a scoop.
    “We all have to start somewhere,” Jack said, keeping his composure and smiling. “I assure you that I am fully capable of doing the job, and will not rest until it is done. The longer you keep asking me such inane questions, the longer it's going to take me to find the killer. So, if you don't mind.”
    With the chatter of more questions being thrown at him Jack then stepped into his car, shutting the door with a heavily thud.
    “Fucking press,” he said to himself. “They'd hinder this entire fucking investigation just to get a story.”
    He gunned the engine and shot off down the road towards his old police department . He was basing himself there for the time being, under the watchful eyes of his old chief, who was also offering him support as part of the case.
    He parked in the lot and stepped into the building, moving straight up to the third floor where he held his temporary desk. When he got there, one of the local officers came straight towards him.
    “Detective Slade, Chief Johnson wants to see you. He says it's urgent.”
    “Right now?”
    “Yes sir.”
    The officer walked away as Jack lifted his eyes to the corner office at the end of the floor. He could see Johnson inside, speaking on a headset and pacing from side to side.
    Jack walked forward, straight towards the office, getting a few looks from the other detectives and officers as he went. He'd been getting used to that over the last few days.
    He reached the door and knocked, seeing Johnson's eyes dart towards him through the glass. Johnson held up his palm before speaking for a few moments, ripping the headset off, and waving Jack into the room.
    Jack opened the door and walked in as Chief Johnson sat down into his chair, breathing slightly heavily.
    “What was that out there just now Jack. Don't bother talking to the press, there's no point.” He was shaking his head and leaning forward on his desk, his eyes deep and weary.
    Jack walked in and stood at the end of the desk. “Sorry sir, I didn't think I said anything wrong.”
    Johnson's eyes fell to Jack's, who stood firm. “Well you wouldn't think that, because you don't know what the press are like. You're new to the game, and it's all just a game to them. We're in here trying to fix lives and get justice and they're just out there, looking for an angle.”
    Jack was nodding lightly. “Sorry sir, I'll try to keep my mouth shut in future.”
    “Just treat them like mushrooms, OK. Feed them shit and keep them in the dark. The less they know, the better.”
    Jack laughed lightly, despite the seriousness of Johnson's voice.
    “Look, you were always like your father Jack. Impetuous at times, but unyielding. I've got no doubt you'll make a great detective as he did, but you've got to know how to handle all aspects of the job. It's not all hunting for clues and interviewing people. Just keep that in mind.”
    “I will sir. I suppose it was calling their questions 'inane' that sold it?”
    Chief Johnson cracked a smile. “And the rest,” he said lightly. “It'll be easier when you're back in Burgess. Here it's all fucking Hollywood. The press love this sort of stuff, they pounce on it every damn time.”
    Jack's eyes narrowed slightly. “Back in Burgess sir? Are you kicking me off the job?”
    Chief Johnson sat back in his chair. “No Jack, the job's yours.”
    Jack exhaled, puffing air.
    “But you are going back to Burgess.”
    Jack's eyes shot back to Chief Johnson, whose voice had suddenly grown more grave.
    “There's been another murder.”

Chapter 6
    A man stood in the darkness of an alleyway, his eyes brooding and half covered by a thatch of