Peter arrived fifteen minutes later, victim to the tragedy of traffic congestion. According to Jones, Peter's ho was nearby, just a 15-minute drive away in the relatively congested conditions of Manhattan. As for Jones's apartnt, it was a 15-minute walk to work, which roughly illustrates the comparative distances.
Peter parked the car outside the police cordon, then took his FBI credentials and walked inside the cordon to join Jimmy.
By that ti, Jimmy had already brought over the two bags of items he had purchased from the corner. Now he was leaning against the trunk of a car on the side of the road, watching the NYPD clean up the scene. They were ticulous in their work; they checked for bullet holes in parked cars and on the walls beside the road; back in Small Stone City, they didn't bother with such thorough checks—in fact, Jimmy had never done this kind of scene investigation.
Usually, others would clean up after Jimmy finished his work. Then either Jimmy was resting to recuperate from the fatigue brought on by the adrenaline, or he was already driving back to the county police station.
Thinking about it, it seed that in the past two years, Jimmy had never played the role of a scene cleaner.
Peter walked up to Jimmy, looked him over, and though Jimmy showed no signs of injury, Peter still had to ask, "Jimmy, are you hurt?"
Jimmy shook his head: "No, just two gunn. It was a sneak attack. I wasn't under much pressure; no injuries, and no bystanders were hurt."
Peter said, "Tell what happened."
Jimmy explained, "Jones knew I hadn't found an apartnt yet, so he offered a couch. After work, I dropped off my luggage, Jones went out for an errand, and I went to the supermarket for so daily necessities. On the way back, a gunfight broke out at this intersection. I warned them, then shot and wounded one and killed another.
Right after I killed that man, the NYPD showed up. Then I called you and haven't communicated with anyone from the NYPD since, just waiting for you to co."
Peter asked, "Good shooting. Did you use your service weapon?"
Jimmy reached under his arm, pulled out a revolver, and handed it to Peter, "My personal service weapon, registered in Arkansas when I was with the county police."
Peter said, "Register it as your backup weapon at the office tomorrow with Tim. I'll go have a chat with them."
Jimmy took the gun back, and Peter left Jimmy's side to communicate with a sergeant of the NYPD on the scene.
After talking for a while, Peter ca back to Jimmy, "You'll need to go to the precinct and give a statent; just follow the procedure and have them register the serial number of your gun."
Jimmy asked, "Ah, do I have to go?"
Peter replied, "It's better if you do, given that soone died."
Jimmy conceded, "OK, then I'll wait a bit and go with the NYPD guys. What about you?"
Peter answered, "Of course I'm going. You'll ride with . Let's go."
Jimmy, holding the two bags, followed Peter to his car and left the scene of the gunfight.
The NYPD precinct was very close to the FBI office, just a short distance away. It was clear that Peter was quite familiar with the NYPD environnt; he led Jimmy straight in and found soone he knew to take Jimmy's statent. Jimmy's gun, along with six spent shell casings, was sent off for registration—the casings would be filed, and the gun returned after being registered.
After Jimmy finished with giving his statent and took back his weapon, he and Peter left the NYPD precinct, and Peter drove to drop Jimmy back at Jones's apartnt.
Peter cautioned, "Rember to co to the office early tomorrow. Goodbye."
After reminding him, Peter drove off, lanting being the boss—it ant an otherwise quiet evening was occupied by Jimmy for almost two hours.
Jimmy entered the apartnt; Jones hadn't returned yet. Not bothering to wait, Jimmy tossed the food from the supermarket into the microwave for a quick heat, and that served as dinner.
Having idly watched a bit of television, Jimmy promptly lay down on the couch. It was June, and a light blanket was all that was needed. He was just staying temporarily for a night or two before he would need to hunt for an apartnt.
After using his mind all day, Jimmy was genuinely a bit headachy and quickly fell asleep on the sofa, not even aware of the ti Jones returned. When he woke up naturally the next morning, it was 7 am, matching his old biological clock.
Jimmy went to the restroom to freshen up, making so noise that woke Jones.
Jones mumbled sleepily, "Jimmy? Why are you up so early?"
Jimmy replied, "I'm used to it, had to get up early when I was a cop. You go back to sleep; I'm going out for a run."
Jones simply responded, "OK."
After freshening up, Jimmy changed into his running shorts and T-shirt, strapped on a waist pouch, and went out for a run. Jones's apartnt was not too far from the Hudson River. In fact, the entire breadth of Manhattan is not too wide, less than four kiloters across, which for a runner like Jimmy, going from the apartnt to the river and back was no trouble at all. Especially since he had just co from the FBI Academy, where the physical training was a lot more intense than running.
In a little more than half an hour, Jimmy returned, Jones was already up and was making sandwiches, which was their breakfast. After a brief rest to cool down and a shower, Jimmy joined Jones on their way to Federal Square.
Truth be told, sandwiches may not guarantee to keep one full all morning, but paired with coffee, they definitely et the energy needs. The only downside is the feeling of fullness isn't great, but when soone else makes breakfast, you have to complint it as delicious! Then passing by Starbucks, Jimmy bought two coffees, one for Jones.
Once at the office, Jimmy tidied his desk a little. Now wasn't the ti to be cleaning others' desks to make a good impression. With an organization like the FBI, tampering with soone else's desk was certainly asking for trouble.
Jimmy sipped his coffee while leafing through a pile of case files in front of him, all cases he'd glanced through the previous day, and realized he had no leads on any of them.
When everyone else had arrived, Jimmy followed the others into the eting room for the morning case briefing.
Everyone took their seats, and Diana ca forward with a stack of folders, distributing one to each person, while the projector began displaying photos.
Peter began, "The case we're dealing with today is an art theft. A small gallery in the Chelsea District hosted a solo exhibition, and the artist was a sowhat famous female painter, Rachel Homan. She graduated from Rhode Island School of Design, then went to Paris for further studies, and returned to the United States last year and ca to New York. This is her first solo exhibition in the country."
The photos on the projector changed accordingly.
Peter continued, "Dengli Gallery, owned by Parker Denley, is only 300 square ters. It used to be a small warehouse before being converted into a gallery, and there are many small galleries like this in the Chelsea District.
These are surveillance photos from inside the gallery. Two masked n entered the gallery the night before last and stole all ten of Rachel Homan's paintings displayed in this exhibition."
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