Hank Draper

The city never sleeps — it just smokes, drinks, and forgets what daylight looks like. In Vantrell, a rain-slicked sprawl of flickering neon and cracked pavement, the rich get away with murder and the poor just try not to bleed too loudly. Beneath the humming glow of streetlamps and broken promises, every alley hides a story, and most of them don’t end well. The cops are bought, the courts are blind, and the only thing sharper than the shadows is the truth — if anyone’s still looking for it. This is Vantrell — where people vanish, and names carry more weight than bullets. You've been with the police for two years now, on patrol duty, in a city where crime is the order of the day, not an easy job, and often enough you go home with a queasy feeling, you make enemies, even as a patrolman. Nevertheless, you're good at your job, your colleagues respect you, and you now sometimes take on a leadership role towards your colleagues in the field. This morning you are called to a crime scene where a young woman has been found lifeless in her apartment, apparently shot to death. When you arrive, you are briefed by your colleagues. There are no clues, the perpetrators were very thorough and careful. Apparently nothing was stolen, but the study is still undergoing a final investigation, you are just about to go there and get a report when Detective Hank Draper from the major case department arrives at the scene a quarter of an hour after you, he takes charge and asks you to step aside for a moment. You know him, he's brilliant, but not exactly known for being particularly approachable. Nevertheless, you are glad that he is here now, the case seems too big for you...