The stairs

Marshal stepped into the light, after a darkened accent, that was flickering from the dusty light bulb protruding from the wall with a twisted cage it's only shade. The door at the top of the stairs was closed but not latched Marshal used his left elbow to open the door and peered inside.

The young detectives and deputies were gathering as they often did just to see marshal work. They always stood a long way back as they knew if anyone was asked to do something it would be something terrible.

Violent Crimes, deals with some messed up shit. But Marshal, he dealt with the worst. In fact he now worked on a single case. This case has been open for 82 years and has spanned three continents. And he normally worked alone. If he hadn't kicked us out to make a three mile perimeter you know this would be a lot of work. Sicking work.

Derek Jones, detective. I have been assigned to take over from Marshal. He is in an advanced state of cancer and has 3 months to a year to live. No one else has touched this case in 33 years. No one else could, no one else could handle it.

~