The Case Against Randolph Dixon-Hertz - Entry 2

Rummaging through the detritus of what Randy had left of his cubicle at the office was thirsty work...and though old habits die hard, usually, I was sipping an experimental, electrolyte-heavy, purple-glowing energy-drink instead of my customary coffee. I felt the pressure from the coffee-maker, staring into me with the doe-eyes of a rejected pound-puppy, but my coffee-maker abandonment-issues were the stuff of background, of bass-lines - the melody had me discerning the consequential from the insignificant, and Randy's desk was littered, presumably, with both:

One Inhumans graphic-novel, beautifully illustrated by Bret Blevins;

One die sawed in half, rough-edges preemptively sanded;

One BBQ-lighter bathed in silver-sparkle dust;

One bright green, multi-veined contact lens;

Two semi-circular contact lens-ish pieces, opaque and flash-toned;

One three-quarters-eaten bagel.

There was cream-cheese in the bagel, that was for sure, but I couldn't ascertain said flavour of cheese, as the Holy Hell odour of the garlic bagel overwhelmed my olfactory senses...it was akin to looking for feculent-matter in a bog next to a paper-mill: a hard deal.

Surprisingly, these were the only items of interest in and around Randy's cubicle, immediately leading me to believe that the whole Lawson Detective Agency had been tidied - Randy typically left clues as to his doings in the same way a wrecking ball leaves a "mark", so I knew there to be more to this story than just the meager evidence collected from his desk. No, there was nothing at all right with the general disinfectant-feel of the office, the hard-line professional ambience that pervaded the air and, surprisingly, enervated me into knocking over one of the too-clean office chairs, nudging it into a desk until it left a scuff-mark like a rubber-soled-shoe on a glazed basketball-court, just to regain some sense of ownership.

Randy was in lock-up, and I aimed to be there when he awoke from his head-bruising, however slight the head-trauma...I needed answers, and my apprehension was limitless.

But first, perhaps, some coffee?

Indeed coffee...indeed.

Entry 3