Fred scanned the flood of people who walked the streets of New York, brushing past him without a second thought. His disguise was working, no doubt of that. Fred was an undercover detective, dressed as a street sweeper. Why? Well, Fred couldn't let the police find out about him, or they would most likely arrest him. You see, what he did was, to say it nicely, not liked among the law enforcement type. Or as they called it- illegal. Fred had started up the U.C.D.U around three years ago, and so far he and his partner, Angela Johnson, had solved over ten murder cases quicker than the police could solve three. Fred thought the police were overrated, they just beat around the bush. The U.C.D.U could beat them any day, no questions asked. Fred watched as two officers passed by, he couldn't help but listen in on their surely boring conversation.

 Fred flicked his broom across the ground every few minutes, he couldn't let some passerby become suspicious of him, considering who he was eavesdropping on. "Jacob Adcock, seventeen. He was found in the forest near his home; coroner says he was choked to death." The taller of the two officers stated, her partner nodded before asking "were there fingerprints?" The taller one, who Fred had dubbed 'Twiggy' shook her head. The shorter one, who had been dubbed 'Chunky', sighed. Twiggy perked up and said "The coroner did say he found traces of the DNA of Nancy Harrison, a girl who'd been reported missing, in the object that was found in Jacob's throat. The coroner says that it looks like a clump of hair and seaweed, kind of a strange thing to choke someone with, right?" Chunky nodded with a chuckle, she looked older and probably more used to these kinds of things, Fred noted. 

He decided to stop at the payphone, one of the last ones left in New York, to call Angela and inform her of what he had heard. Angela worked as a day nurse, as she and Fred worked the late hours. Fred dialled Angela's number and waited for her to pick up, eyeing up some women who stood across from him to pass the time. 

The phone clicked and Angela's voice came through, chirping "Hello?" and surprising Fred, who barked "Aye! Angela, you fuckin' scared me." causing the women he was checking out before to titter and whisper to one another. "Of course I did, people answering the phone terrifies me too. What do you want?" Fred scoffed at her in response, watching with disappointment as his pastimes sashayed away, leaving him slightly less avid than before. "We got another case. Some punk was found throttled up near Bridge'ampton, 'pparently he had a wad of seaweed and 'air shoved down 'is throat from a-missin' girl." Angela went quiet for a moment, before slowly asking, "Bridgehampton?" "Yup." She became quiet once again, prompting Fred to ask "you got a problem with Bridge'ampton?" Angela quickly spoke up with a reassuring "no, of course not. It's just normally such a quiet place. So, what's his name? I'll check the records." Angela asked, her heels clicking as she walked down the bland, off-white hallway, towards the basement. 

Once she reached the door, she realized just how empty the corridor was, compared to the usual bustling hallway she was used to. She unlocked the door and stepped down the creaky wooden stairs, she never expected the ancient wood to hold up as long as it had. "Alright Alfredo sauce, I've made it down the behemoth of a staircase. What's the kid's name again?" Angela asked with a smirk, she couldn't wait to see what Fred thought of his new nickname. "'Is name's Jacob Adcock- aye, what'd you call me?" Angela snickered as she rifled through the filing cabinet of coroner reports, she loved teasing him. Fred scoffed as her nickname registered, he couldn't believe she was turning thirty-six next month. "Angela, you're a real-" Fred was cut off when Angela dropped her phone, electing a sharp gasp from her. "Shit!" she cried, scrambling over to the shelf it slid under. 

"C'mon, you little monster..." she grumbled as she felt around underneath the shelf, feeling dust collecting on her fingertips. a spark of hope rose in her when she felt her hand collide with what felt like her phone, just slightly out of her reach. She pressed herself to the ground and tried again, stretching her arm to its fullest length, internally cheering herself on when she managed to grab hold of her phone. Angela scanned over her phone; it seemed to be unharmed, but when she dropped it, it must have hung up on Fred. 

 With Fred and his now even more annoying habit of only using payphones, she didn't even have a way to call him back, and she wasn't sure if he'd have any more dimes on him either. Angela decided to just find the report and get out, she hated being down in the dingy hospital basement, it smelled like dirty gym socks and mould. She continued her search, quickly sifting through the files, deciding that alphabetically would be best. "Adcock...Adcock... c'mon, you stupid filing cabinet, I know you have it." Her attention was caught by a box beside the cabinet, 'files for sorting' scrawled messily on the side in faded black marker. "Gotcha!" she pulled the box towards her and tore the flaps open, rifling through the files like a madwoman. She let out a cry of victory when she pulled the file labelled 'Adcock, J' from the box. "I've got you, you little pain-in-the-ass!" She closed the flaps on the box and quickly pushed it back into its original corner before jumping to her feet and hastily making her way towards the stairs, file in hand. 

She began her cautious ascent of the stairs, barely having time to look up before the door swung open and a man stepped into view. Both parties seemed to be equally as startled, as when Angela yelped and stumbled back, the man too took a step back, a rather jumbled "oh, Jesus." Following close behind. Angela managed to stabilize herself before she had fallen down the stairs, which relieved her and her co-worker, who still seemed startled from the whole encounter. 

 "Oh, Ms. Johnson- you scared me. Are you alright?" the man asked, stretching his hand out to her, motioning for her to take it. "yeah, I'm okay, thanks, Juarez." Antoine Juarez, an intern at the hospital, pulled her up and through the door, making sure to shut it behind them. "What were you doing down there, anyway? None of the current patient files are in the storage, at least I don't think any are." Angela shook her head, contemplating whether or not to tell him why she was down there. She decided against it, now wasn't the time to blow her cover, though she doubted he would do anything harmful to the UCDU with the information. "I was told by Dr. Anderson to retrieve some of the old medical records from the basement, he said he had wanted to go through them himself." Juarez nodded, his eyes landing on the file she was holding. "Is that the only one he asked for?" Angela felt her stomach drop, she had completely messed up. "Oh, um-" she racked her brain desperately, searching for a reasonable answer. "This one is from a deceased patient, I was just setting it aside to bring to administration, that is until you came galumphing in." She grinned when he gave her a look of 'you didn't look so good yourself' and gently elbowed her in the ribs, getting an amused snort.

 "Juarez?" 

"Mm?"

 Angela thought for a moment, asking "Why were you going to the basement?" A silence fell upon them as they walked, Juarez was unresponsive, like he didn't even hear her at all. "Juarez-" Angela began again, surprised when he suddenly cut her off with a quick 

"Sorry, Johnson. Gotta get back to Dr. Stricker." 

Angela watched as Juarez swiftly headed down the hallway, made a sharp left turn, and disappeared out of sight. She furrowed her brow, something was definitely wrong, it wasn't at all like Juarez to act so jumpy. She decided that it was for the best to just leave him, clearly, he wanted to avoid the question, even if he had to run away from it. She smirked a bit, the kid was probably on his way to look at some 'private' videos and she ruined it for him, all in the name of solving a murder case, what a shame. 

Angela stopped at the front office, leaning over the desk in hopes of catching the secretary's attention. "Hey, Barbara." Barbara, the head secretary, looked up from her pile of paperwork and smiled at her, returning "Hello, Angela. Leaving early today?" Angela chuckled softly, it felt wrong to lie to Barbara, but it had to be done. "Yes, I've got a lot of errands to run today. Don't hesitate to call me if anything comes up though, okay?" That part wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly something Angela hoped for either. "Of course, hun. Oh, have you seen that intern, um-" she hung on the last word, seemingly blanking on his name. "Juarez?" Angela piped in, getting an approving nod followed by "Yes, Juarez. I've been trying to get him over here almost all day, he just won't stop running around." Angela gave her a look of confusion, slowly adding "I ran into him in the hallway a minute ago, he said he was helping out Dr. Stricker. Did he not tell you that?" Now it was Barbara's turn to be confused, she paused for a moment and then spoke, her voice carrying a tone of concern.  

"Dr. Stricker never came in today."