A body lay still in a dingy alley. Detective Smith stood over the victim. Blood pooled on cold, wet concrete. Ragged breath hissed. Smith knelt down. Looked into glassy eyes. Lifeless stare. No pulse. Time of death: recent past. Smith rose, reached for radio. "All units, we have a homicide." Sirens wailed in the distance. Sirens grew louder, faster, closer. Police cars screeched to halt. Officers poured out, guns drawn. "A knife." Smith pointed to blade. Covered in crimson, steely. Tainted.