[Recording Mode - Self-Analysis. - Prototype: Detective... Active.]

I had one hand up, holding the bridge of my fedora in place as my jogging steps brought me closer to my destination.

Even here in the middle of Vale the sea breeze reached out. There was salt in the air, and the unwary risked losing their hats to a passing gale.

Head tilted forwards, I let the waning sun cast long shadows over eyes that saw more than any mere humans could. This was a nice place. Warmer than back home, though with that same tang of Burn Dust in the air from passing cabs. Smoke from the industrial sector a few streets over choked the air like the tang of cigarette smoke from the listless teens loitering at every street corner.

A nice place, if you didn’t have a sense of smell.

The police officers on the steps of the VPD headquarters moved out of my path, wise enough to sense that I was dangerous, that I was not to be trifled with. I caught one man’s curious gaze, and gave him a firm nod when he was able to hold mine without blinking.

Maybe the coppers in Vale weren’t so bad after all. They certainly didn’t measure up to those back home, not if they needed to bring me in for one case.

A big case, sure, probably, no, definitely the biggest in my career as a detective, but still. Didn’t Vale have any pride in their own boys in blue?

Gloved hands slid out of the pockets of my long canvas trench-coat and pushed the double doors of the old building aside. I stood there, coat pooling around my legs, hat tilting back as I raised my head and scanned the lobby with narrowed eyes

A pretty dame behind a waist-high counter caught my attention, just a gal doing her job, but cute for all that. Still, I wasn’t here on any sort of vacation, this was work. “I’m here for Chief Blue,” I told her as I came close, my raspy voice twisted by the stem of the pipe hanging by the edge of my mouth.

The gal blinked dumbly, taking in the stranger in the station’s entrance for a few long seconds before turning towards her computer screen. “Did you have an appointment, ma’am?” she asked me.

I snorted. “I’m not paid enough for this,” I muttered just loud enough to be heard. “Yeah, I’ve got an appointment,” I said.

“Um, alright. Chief Blue’s office is on floor three, near the back,” the gal said, gesturing with a nod to the row of lifts to our side. The lobby area was only just big enough to allow a line to form next to the elevators.

“Thank, love,” I said before moving on, coat flapping out behind me like the ruined cape of the worst sort of hero.

Waiting in line wasn’t my forte, but at least it let me observe without standing out. I needed to see how things were done here in Vale, especially if they expected me to do things their way.

When I finally stepped off on the third floor it was to be assaulted by orderly chaos. The main room of the VPD headquarters was a bustling hive of activity, the boys and girls in blue rushing about, answering calls and only occasionally gathering by the water cooler off to one side to jaw with their peers.

I had to admit that I liked it. Chaotic it might have been, but there was something fresh about it, like a clear sky after the snow. Nodding to myself, I moved in, side stepping a couple of bearded men who were arguing over some sheets and waiting for a trolley full of papers to roll by.

The chief of police’s office was easy to find. A plaque hung by the door, bronze words held in a brass frame. The windows looking into the office were masked by blinds but I could see motion within.

I knocked, and the low hum of chatter from within the office ceased. The door creaked open and I found myself staring at a half dozen men crammed into what might have been a spacious office if there weren’t so many souls in it.

But what was one more?

I stepped in, nodding to the man that had opened the door for me even as he blinked back dumbly. Chief Blue had to be the older man behind the desk. Balding, past his prime, and with a gut that showed a serious need to lay off the pastries. “Who in the hells are you?” he asked.

I doffed my hat, red hair tumbling down to just above the nape of my neck. I knew I probably looked young to all the veterans in the room. If only they know. “I’m the envoy from Atlas,” I said even as my free hand reached into my coat and pulled out a crisp letter.

The police chief took it with a snap, opening the edge of the envelope with a swipe of a thumb. He read while the room warmed up and sweat started to pool on the foreheads of the men around me. I knew he had reached the end with his lips turned up and he scoffed. “Well, I won’t, and can't say no to more help. But this so called Grimm Girl is the last of our problems right now,” he said.

“Oh?” I asked.

He nodded, then eyed the others in the room as if deciding how much to spill. “Couple of gangs have been hit. Most of the sellers on the streets are nervous or missing. I’d usually be more than happy about that, but something’s fishy,” he said.

“Maybe it’s linked to my case,” I ventured. Maybe it was a clue!

“Doubt it,” he said. “Are you ready to start just like that, Detective, uh,” he started to lift the page again, but I stopped him with a dismissive gesture, replacing my hat as I did so. The fedora sat at a jaunty angle, the brim shading my eyes just like all the characters in the movies I studied.

“I’m P. Polendina. And I’m Detective ready!”