"I know that! That's why I said... why is named The Dark Man, you idiot!"
"Fuck you!"
The men sat in a room of dark wood. The day shone bright outside. The windows large. Yet it didn't feel so bright inside. Not dim though. It gave you a sense of shelter. Shelter from what though? They didn't know. They were drinking after lunch. Something people seeking
shelter
from the day often did. Neither were looking to return to the office. Neither were willing to order another drink.
Whiskey. The shorter man had half a sip left. Had had half a sip left for the past twenty minutes. He caught the taller ma eyeing it. Thought he was going to be scolded. But none came. They sat. Waiting. Staring out into the bright afternoon. The lunch crowd had died. Now there were fewer people roaming the streets. Now that the rest of the city had returned to work, it felt harder for the two men to finally get on with it. Maybe they ought to order another drink and stay here. Call it a day?
The tall man with the empty glass thought this. A moment later a glass came down on the table and a breath of the final drink.
"Okay let's go back."
Back at the office the shorter man squeezed his stress ball. The taller man suddenly said, "has anyone seen him before?"
"Sure."
"Anyone we know."
"No."
"Okay that's what I meant, nimrod."
"Easy," he squeezed harder.
"So the man's a ghost. A ghost apparently 32 murders are pinned on."
"Soon enough they'll be calling him Baskin Robbins."
"What?"
"Nevermind."
"32 murders. All the evidence point to the same guy. Don't they call that a serial killer?"
"This one doesn't kill in the same way. The murders aren't connected."
The tall man looked at him. Waiting for him to continue his explanation.
"All the killings. They were in the moment. Justified the streets might call it. Never premeditated. Or at least we don't got the evidence to prove it."
"But we got the evidence to pin it on this man. The Dark Man."