The carnage left by the explosion that had ripped through the purpose-built governmental refugee center was quite appalling. Many who had been killed and injured, were employees of the facility, the administrators and office staff responsible for the day-to-day completion and ongoing levying of the muciferous decisions taken and sanctified by the ministerial department represented therein.
Chief Inspector Alois Fennel was way outside of his usual jurisdiction, but as often transpired as the nearest active officer to the scene of the incident he was immediately given responsibility. Alois cursed quite colorfully at such a misfortune, explosions involved in a crime meant an extraordinary degree of interest from the Home Office, and he had no desire to be under such constant scrutiny.
His regular assistant Annette Gruber was already as the scene as he drove his rather flashy rented BMW into the still smoking site. Her presence relieved his qualms considerably, Annette was efficient, and officious, a combination that would no doubt prove useful is the ongoing investigation.
“Still parading around in that overpriced eye sore, I see!”
As unusual Annette was dressed far too fashionably for such a confused and disheveled scene. Her tweed pencil skirt was a good three inches too short, and the lacy white blouse extruding from the cuffs and neck of her matching jacket was crying out for a covering of grime and ash momentarily.
“You got all the local cops begging for your cell phone number already, Annette?”
“It’s a dirty job, but someone’s got to do it.”
Her glinting perfect smile always made Alois’s toes curl in his black dress shoes.
“‘Who’s the local in charge?”
“Local CID’s governor name of Pete Grogan, and the centers security head is also here poking around quite annoyingly.“
“So let’s do this thing, shall we?”
Alois followed Annettes nicely heeled boots into the confusion.