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Pocketbook of Tyrone Roderick
SW Durem, 12:50pm, On Foot
...I don't think that I am a lucky man.

Just now, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pickles darting down an alleyway while on my lunch break. A cold, dreary alleyway.

There's nothing to be afraid of, been doing this line of work for years, but something was wrong with this picture. From what the reports have said, Pickles appears lifeless regardless if he's walking or sprinting and doesn't carry any sort of weapon in his hands (the only one reported on his person was his coat belt), but he had a pistol in his hand and appeared to be as energetic as can be.

And that twinkle in his eye was like no other.

I should contact Robin and Arneson, but they're across town and most likely engrossed in files from the evidence room. And if I do do that, there's a likely chance that I'll give Pickles enough time to do something dangerous.

I must act now.

...Something tells me that I'm not going to like this at all, though.





 
 
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