Shadows in the Glass

They say the city never sleeps. I don’t think it dreams, either. It just lies there, sprawled under the bruised night sky, breathing smoke and sirens.

I stood in the alley behind the Lorrington Hotel, rain sliding down my collar and into my shirt like cold fingers. A body lay at my feet — male, mid-thirties, eyes wide open as if the last thing he saw had surprised him. People always look surprised.

“Marcus,” Captain Mercer said behind me, his voice muffled by the downpour. “Another one.”

I crouched beside the corpse, the damp asphalt seeping into my knees. My gloved hands brushed the man’s coat, finding the bulge of his wallet. I didn’t take it — I’m not that kind of thief. I only steal answers.

A smear of ash streaked the victim’s cuff, fine and gray, like something from a burnt match. I made a note in my head. Ash in the rain.

“Looks like a mugging gone wrong,” Mercer muttered.

I didn’t answer. My eyes lingered on the man’s jawline, the faint bruise just under the chin, the kind you don’t get from falling. The kind you get from someone holding you still.

“I’ll handle it,” I said, standing.

Mercer nodded and left me alone with the body.

The thing about death is it’s only messy if you don’t know what you’re doing. This one had been clean. Efficient. Almost… considerate. I knew that kind of work.

I pulled a cigarette from my coat pocket, rolling it between my fingers but not lighting it. No sense adding more smoke to the air tonight. The rain was heavier now, hammering the city into silence.

I leaned down, just close enough so the dead man could hear me if souls stuck around for a minute.

“You should’ve walked faster,” I whispered.

From the corner of the alley, a figure watched me — a woman, maybe mid-twenties, trench coat buttoned to her throat. Her eyes didn’t flinch when I met them. She turned and disappeared before I could say a word.

I knew that look. The quiet type. The ones who saw too much.

The rain washed the alley clean, but some stains don’t lift easy. I straightened my coat, glanced once more at the man on the pavement, and started walking.

Another case for Marcus Vail, the city’s favorite detective. Another puzzle for me to solve.

And maybe — just maybe — another little secret to keep.