A Difference of Opinion

[Eclecticon]

It takes a moment for the pair's eyes to adapt to the dimness outside the too-bright crime scene, pupils expanding like desperate hopes at a blackjack table.  Then they're off on their separate hunts - Elly moving confidently, following the signs: a chip taken out of the graffiti here, a fresh print further on, all leading around the gaping emptiness of the central well.  Then, much as she expects, to the place where the railing cuts off leaving an opening, wide open like the maw of some pagan underworld.  Signs of a lot of comings and goings by heavy equipment over the faint remains of hazard stripes.  Lights that flash into action when the big button's pressed.  Freight elevator.  She hops in, rides it down. 

Down's on Crowe's mind too.  Down where the pathetic remnants of light from the overhead skylights give way entirely to old fluorescents and deep shadow that could hide anything.  He finds staircases that sway and creak underneath his feet.  Keeps thinking he sees movement a level or two below.  Leaves tokens for every vendable vice he can think of behind him like a trail of rust belt breadcrumbs.  Sometimes even stops to loudly say 'Oops' in case there's any doubt how they're getting there.  Nothing. 

Then several voices raised in mocking laughter five or so levels up that trails off into bronchial coughs and a cry of "Szép chesta, polisi!"  Crowe feels his face burn and hopes that the uniforms didn't hear, and especially not Varela.  Doesn't bother turning back to collect any tokens that haven't already been snatched up.  The only thing worse than being taunted by someone clutching a chit for a quick buzz is acting like you needed it more than they did.  He too finishes his search at the freight elevator.  Rides it down to ground level in shame and degradation. 

Finds that Elly's been busy since she got there.  The flashes from her KIA as she documents the scene make the slick blood shine.  Some of it's spattered, some pooled here and there.  All still tacky.  Warm enough to smell. 

"There was a fight here," Elly doesn't need to say as Crowe arrives but does anyway.  "At least one gunshot wound," looking at the finely-sprayed floor nearby.  "The perps split up after that.  Some went that way," pointing to where footprints show the way to the vast loading bay like the world's worst wayfinding stripe.  "Others went there."  Waves a hand at a flickering light over a steel door set down a short flight of stairs.  Nothing at all inviting about it.  "There's less blood that way, and those perps were moving faster." 

[Telcontar]

"The locals were no help. This fight seems a little unexpected."