Someone entered the office. Lawrence and Harry would then introduce Dean to each newcomer. These people were all good at sizing others up.
Nine o’clock sharp. Besides the captain who hadn’t shown up yet, Dean had already met everyone in the Fourth Squad. It might have been because he brought breakfast that everyone’s first impression of Dean was pretty good. Regardless of whether they ate it or not, at least the newbie showed he was willing to try and fit in. Next, it would be up to his capabilities.
Nine twenty. Everyone was skillfully slacking off at their desks.
Dean was a new recruit. He needed the captain to arrange an interview and walk him through the procedures before he could go with logistics to collect his detective badge, firearm, and so on. But the captain hadn’t arrived yet.
With nothing to do, Dean sat next to Harry. "Harry, don’t we need to have a meeting?"
Harry expertly launched a computer game. Without turning his head, he said, "Buddy, meetings are just a formality. You’ll get used to it. Besides, we generally only have meetings when there’s an unsolved case, and we haven’t had a new case in half a month."
"They’re all solved?"
"They all flopped..." Harry sighed and tossed a file folder to Dean. "I came here three months before you and went through three cases. One was a wife-murder case. By the time we arrived, we just helped collect the body of the murderer, who’d killed himself. Another was a headless male corpse in a motel. The body was specially sealed and hidden under the mattress. So much time had passed that we couldn’t even figure out the man’s identity, let alone solve the case. Then there was a break-in rape-murder case. We investigated the whole scene and didn’t find a single useful trace. We looked into the victim’s relationships and couldn’t find anyone with an alibi. In my experience, this case is very likely to end up gathering dust in the archives."
"Is solving cases that difficult?" Dean was somewhat surprised.
"It’s all about luck," Harry said, offering Dean a cigarette. "If there are clues, the chances of solving the case are decent. But many are crimes of passion between strangers. If there’s surveillance, that helps. Without surveillance or witnesses, it’s hard for us to find the culprit in the vast sea of people. Even if we do find them, there’s a high probability we won’t have enough evidence to convict them."
"Yeah, many murder cases actually end up as cold cases," Lawrence chimed in from the side, also scrounging a cigarette. "They just wait for some idiot to get caught for something else and confess to their past crimes."
This doesn’t sound good, Dean murmured. I came here to solve cases and get stronger, not to slack off... although slacking off is quite comfortable. But if I stay in the Robbery-Homicide Division’s Fourth Squad and every day is , I’d rather be a beat cop. At least beat cops deal with many minor issues daily and can gain some experience. Every little bit helps, I guess. Better than nothing.
Lawrence blew out a smoke ring, looking content. "Dean, you seem eager to solve cases?"
Hearing this, Harry was the first to show his discontent. "Hey, Lawrence, who doesn’t want to solve cases and get promoted with a raise? It’s only you old-timers who like to laze around all day. I’m really worried that if we keep on , our entire Fourth Squad will get fired."
Their salaries were paid by the Los Angeles city government. If they continued to underperform, getting axed wasn’t out of the question.
"Being a detective is just a job. Why worry about these things? With any job, there’s a chance of being fired," Lawrence said, not at all worried.
"That’s true," Harry shrugged. "If it comes to that, I’ll just go drive a truck. The pay’s much better than this..."
Dean was silent. He no longer had the desire to speak, just taking a deep drag from his cigarette. This isn’t good.
All morning, the three of them huddled in the corner, puffing away and slacking off.
Deputy Captain Hunter, representing the Robbery-Homicide Division’s Fourth Squad, invited Dean to lunch at a restaurant to formally welcome him. This was a fifty-three-year-old African American man who spoke unhurriedly, exuding an air of composure and serenity.
"Thank you for the hospitality, Deputy." Dean transformed his sorrow into appetite, devouring three servings of steak in one go, and now felt very satisfied.
"It seems you’re getting used to our pace here."
"Not bad," Dean said meaningfully. "Living a fifty-year-old’s life in my twenties means I’ve skipped about thirty years of detours."
"Hahaha." Old Hunter understood Dean’s implication and laughed heartily. He could sense a hidden drive within Dean. The Fourth Squad needed a young man like that. He stood up and said reassuringly, "Dean, the Fourth Squad was only established six months ago. Many suitable cases simply don’t reach us. We need to wait for an opportunity, understand?"
"Alright," Dean nodded. I’m prepared to wait and see. If it continues here, I’ll have Eve transfer me back.
Old Hunter assigned Dean a desk right behind Harry’s. He also had Daisy from Logistics take Dean to process his detective badge, collect a service pistol, and a set of heavy-duty body armor. If needed, Dean could also purchase his own gun for reimbursement or request additional firepower like tactical shotguns, M4s, or MP5s. Ever since an incident where several dozen police officers were pinned down by a few robbers with heavy weapons, the police force’s firearm regulations had become much more lenient.
Dean tossed the body armor underneath his desk and played with the pistol he had received. He’d received an M1911. It was a .45 caliber, used 11.43mm bullets. While its effective range wasn’t great, its reliability and power suited Dean perfectly.
Harry turned around. "Buddy, I thought you’d go for a revolver, one." He showed his own revolver tucked at his waist. "Like a cowboy, drawing and shooting in an instant... just the thought of it is cool."
"Perhaps, but revolvers have too few bullets." As he spoke, Dean gave his wrist a light flick. The pistol in his hand seemed to dissolve like falling sand, its parts landing gently on the desk as if they’d been separate entities all along.
"Wow, cool~," Harry said, utterly amazed by the sight.
Dean smiled but said nothing more, instead focusing on meticulously maintaining the firearm. Besides the pistol, he also received a shoulder holster, gun oil, a cleaning cloth, and four standard-issue magazines. There was supposed to be a uniform too, but they didn’t have his size, so Dean would have to wait for notification. However, as detectives, apart from some important occasions, they didn’t need to wear uniforms and were free to dress as they pleased, essentially as plainclothes officers.
Harry greatly envied Dean’s gun-dismantling skills. "Dean, my dear buddy, I think we should go to the shooting range after work. Our detective bureau has an affiliated range. It’s cheap, and we can shoot to our heart’s content."
Hearing this, Dean was intrigued. That’s a good idea. He hadn’t yet tested his Pistol Proficiency since acquiring it. Dean agreed.
Just when everyone thought they were about to leave work happily for the day, right at quitting time, the captain of the Fourth Squad finally arrived at the office. He also brought some unfortunate news: overtime!