[ WP ] `` I do n't sleep . '' He/She said .

`` Detective!'' hailed a uniform in the hotel lobby. I did n't recognize him, just nodded and followed him to the elevator bank. The night clerk peered over the front desk at us, but said nothing as we passed. 
 
 The elevator was old. Clean, but slow and worn at the edges. Touched-up paint and a yellowed lobby button. The neighborhood around the hotel was the same. On the far side of a hospital campus from the main transit corridors, it was a few low office buildings and aging, but still expensive, row houses up to the river front. 
 
 Not at all the usual place for a murder. 
 
 The elevator dinged and as the doors labored open the smell piled in on us. The uniform rapped a gauntleted first against his chest plate, grunting to suppress a cough. I stepped into the hall and waved him off, `` Just head back down. Get the clerk's details if you have n't already.'' 
 
 `` Sir.'' The relief was obvious in his voice. 
 
 Down the hall, another armored beat cop sucked air through a cracked window. He stepped to intercept me with an outstretched hand until I pulled back my coat to uncover the gold shield around my neck. `` Detective. Took your time making it up this way. We've been here since six last night.'' 
 
 I glanced at my watch. 3 AM. `` Yeah, well, you know, traffic's a bitch. Had to drive up from Pollard.'' 
 
 `` Ah, uh, the DOA? Scalped or some shit? Some banger, yeah? You caught that?'' 
 
 `` Yeah.'' I pushed at the window, hoping for a little more air. A built in security bar prevented it from opening more than a hands width. `` Christ. Okay, where is this?'' 
 
 The uniform nodded towards an open door. The hall lights shown into the darkened room. The bed was a few feet inside the door. The mattress had been lifted off the boxspring. Nestled in a cavity in the center was a nude corpse. `` Any word on the coroner?'' 
 
 `` They're backed up... they were going to have a contractor do the pickup, but not until tomorrow morning.'' 
 
 I flipped on the lights. `` We have any neighbors?'' 
 
 `` Floor's clear, as is the next up. Once they found her, I think they had a few complaints.'' 
 
 I started at the edges of the room. The bureau was worn, touched-up, empty. Mirrors and porcelain were spotlessly clean, toiletries set out at precise angles, towels a bit thin, carpet tiles worn unevenly as they were replaced as needed. A drawer of consumables looked fully stocked, everything tucked in sensored and priced pockets. The only thing out of place was the mattress. `` Who found her?'' 
 
 The uniform called from down by his window, `` The new check-ins. Husband went to complain about the smell, the wife got curious. Their info is in my report, but they're just down the road at another hotel if you want us to bring them in for you.'' 
 
 I turned to the body. She'd been pushed down between the rows of springs, and they'd cut through softening skin and flesh, straining against the intruder. Dark fluid stained the cloth backing. Eyes cracked open, mouth fixed in a silent scream. Or gasp. A wide, red welt around her neck said something of both. Pretty girl. Young. Starting to bloat. 
 
 I fished a pair of gloves from my coat pocket and turned her left hand palm-side up, finding what I suspected. `` She's a colonial. Check a code for me?'' The uniform came to the door, handset ready. `` Whiskey-one-one-five. November-three-oh-uniform. Sierra-hotel-hotel-hotel.'' I smiled grimly at the last quartet of the dead girl's ID code. 
 
 `` Carla Dubois, uh, age, seventeen- tomorrow. Nice record. Half a dozen tickets for solicitation, did a year at SpringPines Home for Children. Forwarded to you, sir.'' I let her hand slip back into the coiled springs and pulled my own handset out. 
 
 `` Officer Brown?'' I asked after a moment of searching my overflowing inbox. 
 
 `` That's me, sir.'' 
 
 `` You guys get a lot of street-kids hooking up here, Brown?'' 
 
 `` Absolutely not, sir. A colonial would get a week of labor for being in this quadrant.'' 
 
 `` So, a service. Pick-up and drop-off at the door. Wonder if her pimp came looking. Know any pimps in the quadrant, Brown?'' The uniform frowned at me behind his translucent facemask. I tapped the light switch off and pulled the door closed. `` Seal this door. I'm done here until we know the what and how- gon na go see what I can get from the hotel. Call me when the coroner's man arrives.'' 
 
 The uniform in the lobby jumped up from a wingback when I stepped from the elevator. The same clerk glanced at me from his counter and turned back to a customer, speaking in low tones. Behind him a clock read a quarter to five. I waited for the lone guest to gather his bag and exit before leaning against the high desk. The clerk looked early thirties, tall, and handsome in a navy suit. `` Your name, sir?'' 
 
 `` Ah, I already gave everything to the other officer...'' His voice was polite, solicitous- and calm for a man with a corpse upstairs. 
 
 `` Sure,'' I looked at the gold name tag on the man's chest. `` Agent? Alright, so, do you know who checked in the couple that found the body?'' 
 
 A slight smile, `` I did, sir.'' 
 
 I leaned back, `` That's a long shift for one man. You sleep back there?'' 
 
 The smile widened a hair, `` I do n't sleep.'' 
 
 The uniform finally sidled over at this exchange, `` Uh, detective he- I- skinjob.'' He waved vaguely at the clerk. 
 
 
 
 **More- writing at work, out of time, at the moment. **
