The Homicide department was drowned in the monotonous sound of ringing phones, employee conversations and the sound of buttons on the keyboard. But every single one of them looked up as soon as the lieutenant's loud voice rang through the room.

"DADDY'S HOME!"

The effect that Marshall expected from his statements could not be achieved. Except that in response, he was rewarded with crooked grins and eye rolls. But it seems that he didn't care at all, since the man walked on. Two men in uniform followed him into the department, who were holding the suspect. The suspect's hands were handcuffed, and it seems the man was swearing and cursing everyone under his breath, still trying to escape. Marshall, on the other hand, did not pay attention to the foul language, except that he turned over his shoulder and casually threw.

"Show our new friend his room. I'll drop by for a chat soon."

The suspect was taken away, which caused a cheerful smile on the policeman's face. Of course, the lieutenant was not a fan of violence, but after this guy twisted his arm... Let this guy sit and think while the lieutenant drinks some coffee. But as it turned out, making the very desired drink when you have an injured hand is not so easy. Marshall hardly tried to take the cup, when the hot liquid splashed on his fingers.

"UGHH.. damn it!" he hissed, pulling back his already sore arm, and tried to blow on the burn.