In an ideal universe, a better man than I would wake up to heavenly surroundings and Angelic faces. What I saw was a cluttered ICU ward and Detective Visconti's ugly mug.

"How are you doing Mr. Farley?".

"I've clearly died and gone to hell; so, I'm going to go with not well.".

"Do you know what happened?".

"The last thing I remember is you trying to knock the gun out of the uniform's hand. I'm guessing you saved my life?"

"Not really, you should thank officer Jones for that. I wanted to shoot you again to finish you off and plant a burner piece on you to make it look like a justified shooting. Officer Jones called the ambulance instead. They took you straight into surgery. They told me the bullet didn't hit anything important. I told them I already knew that, but would you live?"

"You know, Detective Visconti, you are not nearly as funny as you think you are."

"That is too bad. I've been told it only hurts when you laugh. So, I've been giving you my best material.".

Detective Visconti and I don't have the friendliest of relationships. Perhaps because he only encounters me in places where he thinks I don't belong. In his line of work, he deals with the ugliest elements of our society. It requires him to view the world with a harsher, more cynical eye than I normally do. For him fighting crime is a serious occupation. For me it is an interesting hobby. I suspect he is right that I really don't belong in his world. I guess I should be thankful he tolerates me in it. If only he knew how drastically my own view of the world was about to change.

"Dare I ask what you were doing at yet another murder scene?".

"I can't really tell you.".

"Of course, you can't. Let me guess. I have to call your FBI friend before you can tell me anything?".

"No. I cannot tell you because I do not know. Honestly, I don't even know what day it is. All I know is I hurt."

"It is Tuesday morning. You went straight into surgery last night and were there for several hours as they worked to stop the bleeding. They have had you pretty heavily sedated for the pain since then. They didn't have an emergency contact number for you, so I called Agent Lee this morning and he gave me a number for your partner, Miss Warner, I called her and told her what had happened. By the way, you really should put an I C E number in your phone. You know, in case of an emergency.

"Now, how about you tell me what you do know."

I then proceeded to tell him about the anonymous phone call I'd received that led me to the murder scene.

"So, what you know is either anonymous in origin or going by comic book codenames. Nothing weird about that," he said sarcastically. "What a surprise." 

Comments please, any thoughts on Detective Visconti?