Absolutely nothing

Save for a bit on a "serial vandal", based on similarity in style. Makes it sound like grand larceny or something equal to it. I've taken down the addresses of the few that are near my beat, I plan on checking them out later tonight. Kinda funny, I'm doing a detective's work, and I'm a beat cop, one of the guys the detective's sic on someone they track down. It's not like I'm tracking down a serial killer, just the one that got away.

It hit me

It hit me this afternoon when I woke up and looked the mask over again. The large SW, the silk moth graffiti. Her alias is "Silk Worm". Now all I've got to do is put out some feelers, look through the database for anyone known by that alias, etc, etc. Typical police work.

I slipped up

I lost a perp last night. It was the perfect set up for me, I was walking back to my cruiser and caught her, right in the middle of tagging a building, a halfway finished man in a business suit. I didn't catch much of the details, I must've snapped a twig or stepped on something. Her head whipped to where I was, and she bolted, right for an alley. She was fast, probably used to ditching the heftier cops on the beat. But I'm a far ways from hefty,  and in peak physical condition at that. I risked it all and tackled her, we both skidded to a stop halfway down that alley. That's when I first noticed she was, well, a she, and beautiful at that. A mask tumbled down the alley, and I felt the unmistakable softness of a woman as we both fell.

I rolled off her and had my taser at the ready. Less paper work than my side arm, and this was hardly the situation where it could be justified.  That's when I noticed the mural. It was an incredibly intricate work made with spray paint, at a glance, it looked like a butterfly, but looking at it, it had more of the shape of a silk moth. I must've lost myself in it, when I looked back, she was halfway across the street, a fence with barbed wire between myself and her. No way I could catch her now. So I screwed up, but hell if I'm going to put that in the report. She did forget her mask, it had a large, white "SW" painted on it. Maybe I can get something useful out of it.

Another night, another beat

Last few nights have been pretty uneventful. Got to respond to a shoplift in progress, when I got there, the perp just gave up. Turns out the "gun" he was threatening the cashier with was one of those airsoft guns with the orange tip painted matte black. I found out the clerk actually had an automatic stashed under the counter and was waiting for him to get distracted emptying the till. Smart guy, that's very risky to confront an armed, jumpy assailant, but some of those gas station clerks get so fed up with being easy pickings that, well, you know.

Harry is on his way back, and  a good thing, too. Even though Hurricane Irene wouldn't hit where he was that hard travel would've been nigh impossible. His plane is supposed to be here pretty soon, dad's going to pick him up from the airport. If my beat takes me close to home, I'll swing by for maybe five, ten minutes. Just to make sure he's alright.

Harry's safe

Thank goodness. His car got totaled, though, some asshole freaked out and made him swerve off the road into a tree. Harry and his daughter were a bit shaken up, but they're perfectly fine, unlike the tree.

But a bit more on me. Some people might wonder why I'm posting in the middle of the day instead of late at night. Well, I'm a rookie cop, and in the cop world, that means I get the graveyard work shift. "Dusk to dawn" is what everyone calls it here, couldn't be truer on summer nights. At least my beat isn't in too bad of an area, worst I've had so far is running off a bunch of kids tagging, not some of the amazing, almost mural style graffiti I've seen around , just crude scribbles declaring their virility.

So, I'm off for graveyard. More on that later.

A personal post

My brother Harry and his daughter were in Pennsylvania visiting some small town on vacation when that earthquake hit. I hope he's alright.

Harry was shot in the line of duty when I was 19, four years ago. Left him with a permanent limp and a position off the beat, stuck behind a desk. I'd never seen dad so worried, he's a man of iron, never betraying any sense of emotion. But when Harry was shot...he was by his bedside every day until he was able to walk, stayed with him when he did his physical therapy courses. Makes me wonder if dad would do the same for me.

Most people would've tried to leave the force. Not Harry, he had too much pride, stubborn as a rock like dad. Even when he got stuck behind a desk, we never heard him complain, even though we could all see how much it hurt him, plain as day. They finally gave him a months vacation, recommended for years by his therapist.

I think I'll try calling him again.

A new blogger, a first post.

Hey all, my names Mason Goodwyn. There's not really much to tell about me, I'm a rookie cop, fresh out of the academy and ready for anything. The next in a long line of cops, stretching all the way to the constables of Medieval England. Every single male in the family is pressured to near the breaking point into joining the force, I never wanted this, but I'd never hear the end of it from dad and gramps if I went into the field that I wanted. It's a sad fate, and one that doesn't pay very well. Budget cuts and blah blah blah blah, enough politics to send the President running for the toilet.

But even with being forced to ride alone after a week, and a mountain of paper work for everything I do, this city needs people like me. Regardless of whether I like the job or not. I guess I'll either learn to love the job, or swallow my dislike for it.