The bus was packed and loud, as it always is in the morning, with students and white-collar workers' conversations filling up the small container-shaped bus. On better days, Alasdair welcomed the numbing effect the overwhelming atmosphere and the trivial background noise had on his worries and stresses. The daily migraines that only grew more painful and persistent were always quelled, ironically, by the noisy, claustrophobic bus that always smelled of gasoline and sweat. Today, however, he couldn't allow himself that moment of peace and comfort: in this time of need, he couldn't afford to lower his guard- neither for this case nor his current family bullshit. Don't lose your head, idiot. We'll deal with everything else after this case. For now, Alasdair decided, he'll get some much-needed sleep before meeting up with Ethan at the school.
.
.
.
His restless nap was interrupted by a sharp rapping sound on his window. Startled awake, Alasdair frowned and made a sour face at the source of the noise: his team captain and irreplaceable friend, Ethan Graham. Despite it only being a day since he last saw Ethan, his team captain looked to have aged several years in the short time they had been apart: his normally bright hazel eyes were dull and sunken in, accentuated by the heavy dark circles that took up half his face; his hair was messy and disheveled, revealing the hidden grey hairs that peppered his black hair; and the wrinkled sand-brown shirt Alasdair saw him wear the day before all pointed to an overnight stay at the station.
Quickly getting off the bus, Alasdair marched towards his awaiting captain with a nasty glare, "What a dirty hypocrite you are, Graham, snitching to a nagging Dylan while you worked overtime instead of running home to your darling wife and kids."
Ethan smirked and started walking towards the elementary school, "Serves you right for worrying your poor brother with your poor life decisions. Plus, Dylan promised me a box of his peanut butter cookies if I get you back home on time for the next week, so expect this to become a regular thing."
"Corruption doesn't look good on you old man."
"Go cry about it after the case is closed. We're almost there."
Recognizing Ethan and Alasdair, the officers on the scene nodded in acknowledgment and guided them toward the 3rd-floor bathroom. They were soon joined by DC Evans, a fellow homicide detective, and coworker, "Hello Captain, took you long enough to join us with your lazy ass, Kirkland. To report, the victim has been identified as Samuel Clark by the janitor who first reported the body. He's an eleven-year-old boy who attended St. Peter's Primary School. Forensics is currently working on narrowing down the time and exact cause of death, but they believe he took his own life by drinking some cleaning supplies he stole from the janitorial closet last night after 8 pm."
"Thank you, Evans. Where's Ross? I thought I told you guys to stick together before I come back with Grumpy Cat over here." Ethan jokes, ignoring Alasdair's pointed glare.
"Ross is with Officer Avery; she's probably waiting for us at the scene. They're finishing up initial investigations right now so you should be able to join them soon. I’ll let the forensic officers know that we’re coming up right now."
The atmosphere was oppressive and somber, weighing down heavily on everyone unfortunate enough to witness the gruesome scene. Samuel's lifeless body, as far as Alasdair could see, was propped up against the 3rd stall toilet, surrounded by several forensic officers taking samples and pictures for analysis. Several containers of cleaning supplies, which Alasdair immediately recognized as Arthur's favored cleaning supplies back at home, were strewn about in the stall, with unidentifiable clear liquid pooled beneath the unmoving corpse.
Among the several forensic officers, Alasdair spotted his favorite: Avery Park, who was currently delegating responsibilities among her juniors.
"Park."
"Kirkland. Go cover yourself up with the captain and join me near the body, will you? And make sure to wear a hair cap before you shed all over the place."
"Fuck you."
"You wish. Now go to Daddy and get your protective equipment before you contaminate the scene."
Throwing Avery a disgusted look, Alasdair acknowledged his humiliating defeat and gingerly took the personal protective equipment from Ethan's waiting hands. Ignoring the snickering crowd, Alasdair begrudgingly walked toward Avery, who was busy trying not to laugh.
"We're currently working with the idea that Samuel committed suicide via self-poisoning. Ross confirmed with the custodial staff that the empty bottles lying around the body were taken from the custodial closet. While we can't know for sure if these cleaning fluids are the exact cause of death before we go ahead with the autopsy, the circumstantial evidence that supports the claim certainly adds up."
Avery stops to take out her laser pointer to highlight the points of interest.
"The victim's mouth is filled with blood and vomit; you can tell that he repeatedly threw up before his death due to the irritation in his throat. The irritation resulting from the consumption of cleaning supplies must have been extremely painful since there are open wounds along the throat that look to be self-inflicted with his own nails. His eyes are also swollen shut, presumably due to excessive crying since you can see tear tracks streaming along his face."
Ethan's face scrunches in disgust and immense sadness, visibly affected.
He must be thinking of Daniel. Alasdair thought as he took a moment to gather his thoughts.
"We also found some piece of paper crumpled up in his right hand just before you guys entered. I figured we might as well open it together. I'll give you the honors, Kirkie."
Carefully avoiding the empty containers of bleach and Windex splayed about the stall, Alasdair gingerly readjusts his nitrile-gloved hands and opens Samuel's tightly clenched hands to retrieve the note. Gathering around Alasdair, who was busy straightening out the paper, Ethan and Avery waited in anticipation, both making sure to give Alasdair his much-appreciated space.
My name is Samuel Clark. I am a bully who threatened my classmates to keep quiet while I terrorized my classmate Evan. I deserve to die a dog's death. I'm sorry Evan. I hope you can forgive me for everything I did to you. I hope my death can atone for my sins.
Ethan's face hardens, "Avery, I want forensics immediately on this. Let us know if Samuel is the one who wrote this as soon as you complete the analysis. Alasdair, follow me." With that, he stormed off with renewed vigor, yelling for Ross and Evans to follow suit.
Exchanging glances with Avery, Alasdair handed the note over, bracing himself for a long and grueling shift and followed Graham out the bathroom door.
