A lead! One dead body pulled from the sea matching the description of the suspect/victim of circumstance in Ed’s main case. He’d waited for this young lad to fall into his lap; Harcroft had hardly made progress in finding Gibson. In fact, had he made any progress? Ed doubted. He’d certainly not heard anything and he’d specifically told the senior auror to inform him if he unturned any stones. This case was not one to be lax on. It wasn’t like some kitten had just been lost, two very important people had been killed as well as an innocent bystander.

Ed had however hoped to find Gibson alive. That would make things one hell of a lot better. No one wanted to find a dead body, especially one so young and as Ed truly believed, innocent. When the prophet got hold of this...he could see tomorrow’s headlines; “Ministry morons murder teen”. It was their fault he was dead if this was the lad’s body. The whole case had given Pratt a headache and now? Now it was worse. He’d need to call Raynor and the Magical Examiner to the scene if there was a chance this was their lad. Oh how he hated dealing with the Doctor of the Dead. She gave him the creeps.

Nonetheless, Ed jumped up from his chair and snatched up his muggle suit jacket. The muggle police were already on this scene and the auror office liked to cause as little suspicion and make as little a scene as possible. It didn’t pay to make things too obvious. Wiping memories was tricky enough with the witnesses and muggle law enforcement, wiping the memories of the public onlookers past the tape just made things far too complicated. It meant more man power was needed.

With the smart jacket pulled on, Ed slipped a fake gun in his holster, simply for appearances and his wand in other side. With his badge clipped onto his trouser belt, Ed left the cubicle and began to tuck his shirt in neatly as he quickly crossed the office, taking long powerful strides and arrived at Malone’s little cubby hole.

“Grab yer coat, Frizzy, ye’ve pulled.” Ed said, not bothering with formalities. He was getting used to Malone’s way of working. They were getting less irritated with one another. But Ed still didn’t exactly like her. She gave him a headache. The kind that resulted from too much nagging. Bloody women. “This un’s a muggle crime scene so suit up.”

It had been nearly two months since Charlene had been assigned to Pratt.  She was certain of it, since that was the day that the quality and amount of paperwork in her files significantly changed as she'd been forced to deal with her new partner's notes as well as her own.  In that time, she'd become well familiar with the other Auror's mannerisms, and though having to decipher his handwriting still gave her a headache, she could now muddle her way through without feeling like she had to correct every letter.

She looked up briefly as Pratt stopped by her desk, her eyebrows raising.  Charlene still came in early to the office, but she'd stopped expecting the other Auror to be there to contribute first thing.  The arrangement was actually working fairly well; it gave Charlene an opportunity to go through casework on her own, and let Pratt spend necessary time with his family so that he complained less.  If he was changing the routine, it had to mean that something big had happened.

"I'm overwhelmed by the offer," she replied, her voice dry, ignoring the nickname per usual as she looked him over quickly from head to toe.  Whatever his less-than-professional qualities, Pratt wasn't one to make a song and dance over something unimportant.  If he was taking this serious, done up in Muggle attire, it had to be something important.  More than likely, it had to be Gibson.

Within moments, the papers were returned to their folder and had been neatly stacked back on her desk.  It didn't take her long to find her badge and grab the long Muggle coat that she kept for such occasions.  Dealing with police inspectors was never easy; blending in always made their job much easier, even though it meant leaving their usual scarlet robes behind.

"Where are we apparating to?" she asked matter-of-factly, as she exited the cubicle.  "There's likely not enough time to get a Ministry driver, is there?  What do you know about the crime scene?"

Frizzy stepped out of her cubicle and Ed buried his hands into the deep pockets of his smart black trousers. He began to walk towards the exit for the large mazelike office filled with cubicles. The slightly shorter auror asked Pratt where they were going and he wasted no time in retrieving a small piece of folded up parchment and handing it to her with the details he’d just been owled on.

“We won’t be drivin’ Malone. Scene’s in North Yorkshire, Staithes. Little fishin’ village on the east coast.” Ed shrugged his shoulders, glancing across at his partner. “Unless ye fancy a five or six hour drive when we can be there in mere seconds otherwise?” They would have to apparate just off the crime scene and walk up to it, avoiding some suspicion. Oh how Ed disliked dealing with the muggle law enforcement, it took a lot of negotiating skills and memory charms. Those buggers were just plain difficult to handle.

“We’ll apparate to this address.” Ed leant over, pointing at a road name on the document he’d just given to Malone. “Harbour’s only a couple a’minutes walk from there.”

What did he know? Not very much yet to be honest. He’d received the message with the address telling him they’d found someone matching the description of Gibson and he’d jumped straight on it.

“Muggle fisher out doing his rounds. Makes a catch, no doubt figures he’s caught a winner, pulls it up and it’s a body matching our descriptions of Gibson. We might have found our missing teen.” And Ed damn well hoped they hadn’t. He was hoping to be able to arrive on scene, confirm it wasn’t their lad, come back to the office and continue on with the case.

No one wanted to find someone involved in one’s case dead. Especially when the deceased had been on the run for something he was innocent of and was only young and probably terrified. This was going to make the auror office look very inept when it got out. Malone and Raynor could deal with the Prophet, Ed didn’t have the patience for that lot of vultures.

Taking the parchment from her partner, Charlene skimmed over it, her eyes shifting quickly from word to word as she committed the details to memory.  There was no good way to encounter death, even when it was inevitable in their line of work, but this was clearly one of the worst.  Charlene hadn't been as convinced as Pratt that the teenager was innocent - she was still inherently suspicious of Muggle approaches, no matter what her partner said - but his theory had made sense.  Knowing that Gibson might be dead because they hadn't gotten to him quickly enough was a bitter potion to swallow.

She tapped her wand against the parchment, wiping it clean, and then pocketed both objects.  "No, I think I can manage to suffer through my day without it," she replied, allowing only a hint of dryness.  The thought of six hours in a car with Edward Pratt was enough to tempt her to commit a murder of her own, no matter how businesslike he was acting now that they had a target in their wandsights.

The facts were straightforward and efficient.  There were plenty of missing teenagers across Britain, so it was very possible that this wasn't Gibson after all.  But even before the clandestine meeting that she'd had with Raynor, Radley, and Colburn a few weeks before, Charlene had suspected that the reason that they hadn't managed to find the former Hogwarts student was because he wasn't there to be found.  Living, breathing people were difficult to hide, especially when they had no criminal experience.  Bodies, unfortunately, were much simpler.

She nodded to Pratt, inwardly setting her trepidation aside.  There was time for doubt later.  Right now, they'd do what they had to in order to solve it.

"Well.  Let's go look at him and see then, shall we?"

---

It was only just officially winter, but the north was already bitingly cold.  The rain seemed to have held off this morning, but the air was gently misting, and judging by the slowly looming clouds overhead, if they didn't work quickly, there might soon be other factors beyond mere temperature to contend with.  There were no Muggles in sight when they reappeared at the address.  Charlene kept her coat wrapped tightly around her, matching her partner's pace as he chose the direction towards the harbor. 

This was the part of a case that she normally enjoyed the most.  The hunt brought a sharp focus to it, as if before she'd had to keep all the world in her sights and could only now narrow.  Charlene let out a quick breath, her breathe misting in the air.  Even the sobering fact that the boy for whom they'd been searching was very possibly dead could not detract from the sense of purpose.  At last, they had a focus.  They were no longer hunting shadows and ghosts.

The harbor was only a few minutes' walk from their arrival point.  As they approached, it was easy to tell that the road leading down to it was far too busy for this time in the morning.  The Muggle PCs had established a perimeter; a pair of them were waiting at the roadblock, the blinding yellow of their jackets standing out firmly against the barrier.

Charlene barely cast a look at her partner as she freed her badge, not slowing her stride as she continued toward them.  "How would you like to do this?" she asked in a low voice.  If they'd been back in the office, she would have bombarded him with suggestions, but here in the field, it was his case.  "Did you want to take point?"

The bitter chill forced its way through Eddie’s thin white shirt and he gritted his teeth against the cold. Of course, as a Yorkshire man he was well used to this temperature in the winter. He knew how cold it was when he’d popped to the shed to feed the owl this morning before work. It was always colder up north. But Eddie was a man. In fact, he was more than that. He was a male auror. The cold wasn’t supposed to affect him and therefore he hadn’t brought a coat. That had been quite a silly mistake. But one he wouldn’t let his partner into. Instead, Eddie shoved his hands into his pocket as he set off towards the harbour from the little spot in the trees they’d apparated to.

This place looked different to the last time Ed had visited it. It felt different as well. The feeling was down to the sombre reason Pratt and Malone had arrived at this village. Murder had been brought to a quiet little village in north Yorkshire where usually the most interesting thing to happen was Mrs Salsbury choosing to buy a Granary loaf from the local bakery instead of four white rolls. Edward knew what places like this were like. The village him and Quincy lived in was exactly the same. Fortunately though, there was a higher wizarding population in his area. And no bodies being dragged up by local fishermen.

The partners walked in silence towards the harbour. Pratt and Malone rarely engaged in unnecessary talk and both were no doubt assessing the situation, considering how best to go about the negotiations with muggle police and wondering how the scene would appear when they arrived. Ed sure as hell was. Malone was the one generally better suited to diplomacy with other departments, and most witnesses. Eddie had little patience. For this situation, however? It was Eddie’s case. He was lead auror and he knew more about muggles than dear Malone. He’d grown up with his Dad droning on and on about muggles and everything to do with them. That and the fact that Eddie could no doubt fit in with these muggle police thanks to his accent left the man better qualified to take charge.

He frowned over at Malone before looking back to the scene unfolding ahead of them. The muggle police had set up the barrier and fortunately it was wide. They certainly didn’t need any reporters crawling around. Especially muggle ones.

Eddie unclipped the auror badge from his trouser belt and proceeded forwards, muttering quietly to his partner.

“We need t’see this body first. If it’s not Gibson we can just head back to the office, our time wasted.” Ed paused and let a sigh out, his breath forming a white cloud of smoke which floated in front of him for a moment before vanishing. “If it is, we’ll get the guv and Doc up ‘ere. This ‘ent gonna’ be pretty. I hope ye’ve bin’ perfecting yer memory loss charms. No wands yet, remember.”

Without a second though, Eddie continued up to the barrier and proceeded to lift the tape, holding it up for Malone to step under before he followed. Always a gentleman first and foremost.

“Hey, what are ye doin? This is a police crime scene. Ye can’t just let yerself through!”

A young officer who’d been given the utterly exciting job of patrolling the line yelled at the couple as they ‘trespassed’ onto the crime scene. “Hold yer horses, lad.” Eddie replied calmly, stepping under the line and dropping the tape back. He lifted his badge up to show the young officer. “I’m Agent Pratt. This is me partner, Agent Malone. We’ve come to take a look at the catch of the day.”

Despite the fact that they were closing on an audience, Charlene couldn't help casting a dry look over at her partner.  She remembered very well that there were no wands.  Without a doubt, she remembered better than he did.  Charlene could have cited statute, rule, and regulation of the appropriate procedures that were to be followed before one used a wand on a Muggle law enforcement officer, and unlike Edward Pratt, she made certain to dutifully follow them.  Level Two's policies and procedures were clearly there because they served a purpose, and ignoring them only meant more trouble and extra paperwork in the end.

She ducked under the tape, waiting for Pratt before continuing at the same pace.  So much of dealing with Muggles relied on appearances.  Law enforcement was law enforcement, no matter where one went.  The same rules, the same rivalries between squads.  Aurors were perfectly capable of playing the game, looking as if they were exactly where they were supposed to be, and usually that was enough to get the buy in of the local Muggle officers.  There was no point in using a memory charm if they could simply talk their way through.

This young officer was apparently not buying their confident stride, though.  He didn't even bother to eye Pratt's badge, simply hurrying forwards, as if to get ahead of them both.

"Metcalf said that not a soul was allowed on site until he'd cleared 'em," he said sharply, holding out a hand as if to physically stop them.  "Ye're not going a stride farther until he gives the word."

The Muggle was on the side closest to Charlene, so she smiled and broke her pace, turning towards him to intercept.  If he insisted on holding them up, she could occupy him long enough for Pratt to get on site and examine the body.

"Yes, we know," she replied, passing the young Muggle her badge.  She didn't give him a choice about taking it, making certain to position herself directly in his way; he scowled as his eyes unwillingly flickered down to it.  "He's the one who called us in.  We asked him to make certain to lock down the scene until we arrived.  If the body doesn't match our man, we'll be on our way and leave you to it," she added matter-of-factly, claiming the badge again and clipping it back to her belt.  "Until then, we appreciate both your cooperation and your diligence."

She didn't hurry to catch up with Pratt again; so much of bluffing their way through was based on confidence.  If they looked calm, acted as if they were in control, most of the Muggles they encountered would hopefully go along with appearances.  It was the sharp ones, the ones who asked too many questions that they had to worry about.  That was when the memory charms would come into play.

"You might want to remember a coat next time," she remarked under her breath, casting a sidelong glance at her partner.  He didn't look as if he were particularly cold - she assumed he was used to Yorkshire weather - but on occasions like this, appearances counted.  "I know it's just a detail, but Muggles don't have any way to stay warm besides their clothing.  We'll look less suspicious if we're dressed like everyone else."

The young officer didn’t seem exactly pleased with the prospect of allowing the aurors past his boarder. Not that he actually had a choice. Pratt and Malone just wanted to avoid as much wand waving as possible at this scene. Besides, an Auror badge was most definitely the trump card, instant access to all areas. Muggles knew it and associated it with some secret service agency dealing with high priority cases. Muggle police rarely remembered their dealings with such agents. They were mysterious. That was best. Few questions were then answered.

Pratt spared a glance sidewards at his partner thrusting her badge at the young man in uniform and took that as his chance to sneak past. Well not sneak. Eddie simply set off in a once more confident stride towards were he believed the crime scene lay. With the badge reattached to his belt, Ed let his arms hang loosely by his side as he approached the harbour edge.

Fortunately the scene wasn’t yet busy. Few backup vehicles had been called and as hoped for, the place wasn’t swimming with muggles. Only the necessary members of the policeforce were present but that didn’t allow Eddie to drop his guard. It always took more thought and deliberation when in the muggle field. The statute of secrecy hung closely over their heads. Eddie had bumped into it a few times. Few aurors hadn’t.

And here he was. The man that looked as if he was in charge. Not sporting a uniform but a long coat and a smart suit instead, Ed guessed this was the muggle detective inspector they’d been dealing with. The auror assessed him quickly, eyes taking in everything from the shabby, worn looking suit to the strained and painful look behind the man’s grey eyes. This was his man.

Not wasting a moment, Eddie stepped up to the man and held out a hand. “Ye must be DI Metcalf. Agent Pratt.” He introduced himself, flashing his badge once more with his spare hand. “I’m from the Bureau of Investigation. We’ve evidence to believe the body yer angler pulled up is involved in one of our investigations. Mind if I take a look?”

Once more Pratt didn’t wait for a response. He’d always found that worked best. Act authoritative. Act like you’re giving them a choice but don’t. He leisurely made his way past the DI and down the steps to the dock to find a boat docked closely to the water’s edge, a body laying across the top of the deck. The body seemed to have already started it’s decomposition and Ed could smell this from his position.

Nonetheless, the man continued forwards and climbed up onto the boat. He kneeled down to examine the boy’s face, or the features which still remained intact and frowned deeply. This was most probably their body but Ed wasn’t about to put all his cards down until they received a positive ID. Therefore he pushed himself back to his full height and glanced to his side to witness the arrival of his partner.

“I don’t own a coat.” He muttered plainly before taking out his magical pager to call in backup. They needed to get this body out of the way as soon as possible but Bombay would have his hind if he got it moved without her taking any primary evidence first.

“I’m calling in the Guv and Bombay. Take a look, I reckon we’ve got a catch.”