This is the area of human history from which the Catholic religion arose. Of course there had always been religion, full of vengeful Gods and sacrifices, but these were fading; the people needed something else to believe in. Many thousands of years before Jesus Christ, the Catholic Church spoke of the first coming of the Savior; spoke of the one who would rescue the human race from the darkness that permanently enveloped Lohij. The church, in theory, was a haven from the scum that roamed the streets in the evening time. Though, that was only theory.

None of it was provable and Jaser hated topics of speculation. He liked fact. Yet, he found something comforting, something secure in the candle-light, stained glass, and stone statues. He wasn’t sure if he bought into the Catholic’s ‘Coming of the Savior’ crap, and yet there was something about the religion that was soothing. He knew that the creeps of the streets weren’t going to be scared off by some picture of a man that hasn’t even been born yet; but who was he to tell these people that were so sure of themselves that He wasn’t going to rescue them from the trash on the streets, that only they, themselves, could stop the violence? This was the only release these people had from the reality of the harsh world around them. Of course, once they stepped out of the sanctuary, truth would come rushing in and crash around their ears. This city was a dog eat dog world, and until this Savior of theirs appeared, Jaser and his unit were the only thing standing between the evils of the world and the good people of this city.

The real world was a terrible place, end-of-story, and even this ‘Savior’ couldn’t change that for Jaser. As he scanned the worshipers, he knew that among the bowed heads were a wife-beater, a future murderer, a victim, and a child molester; and that was at best. Some, a few, of the people were perfectly innocent people, just trying to live out their lives. However, Jaser had a theory, a theory he had only shared with few people, that everyone in Lohij, except perhaps the very small children, were guilty of something. Even those that were just trying to live normal lives had to have done something in their past to get the peace in their lives that they had. The church preached that law offenders were not welcome to worship, which, meant that more than half the city could not openly welcome the church into their lives. Even he, himself, was not welcome here; though he saw no one rushing to escort him towards the doors.

The silence from outside was shattered by a shriek rising from the street. A pause in the heavenly chanting made it seems as though the whole city held its breath. The chilling silence seemed to last an eternity, though probably only a half-second long. Finally, the singing resumed and another group of black cloaked men shuffled into the parish. Everyone in Lohij wore black, so as to be ignored; except for the dreadfully few street whores. Jaser’s spider-sense led his focus towards one of the new-comers. He was sure that the murderer of the screaming girl had just entered the church. He could almost smell the fresh blood and hear the glint of light reflecting sharply off the gun, which was the murderer most certainly carried in his coat. Jaser unconsciously became aware that he was preparing to spring into action, as the man walked leisurely towards one of the elderly women. With an eagle eye, Jaser watched the man put an arm around her. The woman jumped, startled, she obviously had not heard him coming. Leaning over, the man gave the aged woman a peck on the cheek and Jaser heard him whisper, “Hello, mother.”

The tension immediately drained from his body and slowly Jaser allowed himself to relax. That man may well be guilty of murder, but he clearly knew better than to try anything with his mother around.

Besides, Jaser told himself, he was off duty.

It was meditative, the chanting was. Jaser allowed himself to relax completely. Perhaps these Catholics knew nothing about philosophy, but their building was pleasing to the eye. He stared at the seemingly endless spiraling domed ceiling. They must have the arts on their side, he decided as he gazed at the stained glass windows. Images of angels and the unborn ‘Savior’ in heaven greeted his gaze. The longer he stared, colors seemed to meld together to make unrecognizable images; however, when he shook his head, the images were apparent once again. It really was such a beautiful place, such a shame that it was so hypocritical. How can the ‘Savior’ be all forgiving and yet, shun people from His house?

Jaser’s train of thought was shattered as combat boots came thudding into the church. The wearer of these boots promised torture to whoever was unlucky enough to get in their way. Poverty and misery followed the figure, hand-in-hand, down the long rows of pews. Jaser shrunk deeper into his pew and bowed his head. All he could do now was hope to not be seen. The mud-stained boots passed him by, and Jaser let out a breath of relief. Disaster avoided. He hadn’t been spotted. Maybe there was a God up there after all …

The combat boots reached the front of the church, turned around and came striding back. They stopped, and Jaser felt the bench underneath him sway slightly as his visitor sat down next to him. “HEY ‘SPECT!” came the echoingly loud greeting.

…Then again, maybe there wasn’t a God.

“I thought I’d find you here. You’re always obsessed with strange things!”

“Shh,” Jaser hissed, “Keep your voice down.” He gestured at the bowed heads meaningfully, “Give these people the few minutes of peace that they deserve.”

“But, ‘Spect,” His acquired neighbor protested, “It’s all a lie!”

“I told you not to call me that, Cameron!” Jaser grabbed Cameron by the fiery red hair and dragged the child out of the church kicking and screaming. They stuck around just long enough to hear the shattering silence that chased them out the door.

Jaser released the handful of hair and Cameron fell to the sidewalk, suppressing tears.

“You can’t treat me like that!” Cameron whined, “I’m a lady!” She fussed with her hair, which did it absolutely no good, “Look what you did to my hair! Bastard!” The twelve year old girl managed to look incredibly distraught even though she was just hopeful that Jaser would leave his wallet unguarded.

Jaser raised an eyebrow, “Ladies don’t use language like that, Doll. Besides, your hair looks no different than it ever did. No worries, it’s just as greasy and despicable as ever.” He chuckled.

Cameron inspected her baggy sweatshirt and torn up jeans, “You’re lucky that I don’t make you pay for these jeans, since you put the hole in them, ‘Spect!”

“Cameron, that hole has been in your jeans since you lifted them off of a sales mannequin,” he paused, “They came that way.”

“You calling me a liar?” Cameron stood up and stared him down, her piercing green eyes drilling holes into the inspector’s skull.

Jaser’s brow furrowed, deep in thought, and then cleared, “Yes.”

Cameron feinted amazement, “How dare you?” she demanded.

Without a thought, Jaser yanked Cameron’s sweatshirt off, leaving her in a ratty, white tank top. He shook it once, and then again. Giving up on that approach, he turned the disgusting thing inside out. Searching for a moment, he found the inner zippered pocket, that Cameron had sewed in herself, and dumped the contents onto the sidewalk. A solid gold watch and a bag of potato chips fell out. Picking up the watch, Jaser grinned, “That’s how I dare to call you a liar.”

“Gimme that back, you big bully,” Cameron yelled, and leaped at the watch that Jaser held just out of her reach. Her red hair flared like a flame in the wind as she hurtled herself towards the watch.

“I think not, little one,” Jaser laughed and put the watch into his pocket, “Who’d you pilfer this from anyway?”

“Your mother,” Cameron replied with a glint in her eye and a crooked smile, “She didn’t put up much of a fight. What a helpless wench.”

Jaser just smiled, “At least I have a mother. Unlike some people I know.”

“You God damned bastard.” Cameron turned around and her back shook slightly, the only indication that she was crying. “She was just making a living,” it came out a strangled whisper.

“In my book, Cameron, making a living doesn’t include killing customers. I don’t have a problem with her chosen profession though I do have a problem with murderers. Bedsides, Baby, I didn’t kill her, I just put her away for life.”

Whirling around to face Jaser, Cameron hissed, “Bite me!” and turned away to hide the hot tears that streamed down her face in rivers.

Cameron felt her face get hot with anger. “H-Hh-H--- How dare you?!” she finally managed to scream. Tears still poured from her eyes leaving glittering trails behind. She whipped around with an arm extended and slugged Jaser hard as she could in the gut. Only a grunted sound of protest escaped from the inspector. “I thought you were my friend.”

“Cameron, you were asking for it, and you know it. I think that sometimes you are just asking to be put into your place. You’re lot in life is not a good one, but don’t blame it on me. You would have done the same thing.” Jaser pushed the thick lock of black hair that had fallen into his eyes, off of his face and looked at Cameron, “Come home with me. My wife makes a pot roast that will knock your socks off.”

Cameron just stood with her back to the inspector pretending she wasn’t listening. They both knew very well that she would never turn down a free meal, even if it came from him.

Jaser started off towards his apartment, “Make your choice; stay on the street or come and spend the night in a warm bed, your hunger satisfied.”

Blonde and voluptuous, Jaser’s wife met the sullen couple at the door. Neither Jaser, nor Cameron, had spoken the entire trip from the church to the apartment. “Jaser you’re home! And Cameron!” she exclaimed and gave Cameron a gigantic hug.

Elbowing Jaser, she hissed, “How come you didn’t tell me we were having company?” Jaser’s wife was by no means threatening, but she was quite stronger than she looked. Maybe she was eight months pregnant but she had quite a bite to her if you were on her bad side. Her ice blue eyes could outstare an alligator and send it sprinting for its mother. Really, though, she was a good person and loved Jaser with everything she had.

Jaser chuckled, “Babe, if I knew we were having company, I would have told you.” Taking off his shoes, he strolled into the apartment and threw his corduroy jacket on the back of the easy chair. “I ran into Cameron at the church and thought she could do with some cleaning up and a soft bed,” he called back from on his way to the bedroom.

“Come in, Cam! It’s been far too long.”

Cameron knew what came next; the bear hug. Before Cameron had time to say thank you, the woman came at her, arms open, pale blue blouse stretched to arms length. Being squeezed in the bosom of the solid woman was like being drowned in an exceptionally blue sea. Neon pink lipstick left a mark on Cameron’s cheek that was wiped off as soon as Julie’s back was turned. Cameron loved Julie but, she was a tad bit overfriendly, and people like that always sort of gave Cameron the creeps. People like Jaser she could deal with fine; a walking ghost of guilt was a normal thing in Lohij. But to be genuinely friendly? No one was friendly in this city; that was dangerous. Being too friendly in this city could get you killed. Cameron figured the only reason Julie had lasted this long was because she was married to Jaser.

Sometimes, Julie and Jaser made Cameron sick. They were probably the only friends she had in the entire city, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. They were just all over each other all the time. The cuddling had subsided some, when Julie became pregnant, but only because Jaser was as thin as a stick bug and Julie had bulked up, as any woman does, during her pregnancy. Though, the extra bulge in her belly didn’t stop the two of them from kissing or using obnoxious pet names. Who in their right mind would want to be ‘Pookie’? It made Cameron twitch just thinking about it.

Dinner was announced some twenty minutes later.

Sitting down to eat, they all took their normal places; Jaser at the head, Julie at the other side and Cameron seated, awkwardly, between them. Conversationally, Julie asked Jaser how his first day as an Inspector had gone. This gained her a sidelong glance from Cameron, who knew, better than Julie that being an Inspector was probably the most gruesome position that could be held in the city. Jaser caught the look that Cameron threw his wife and almost laughed.

“It was, um, good,” he answered briefly and without emotion.

Not picking up the hints being given by both characters at the dinner table, Julie persisted, “Did anything interesting happen?”

“Several murders,” Jaser answered, and continued to shovel food into his mouth so that his wife couldn’t throw more questions at him.

Cameron interjected her two cents, “Jules, I suggest you don’t ask for details. They were disgusting; all bloody and maggot eaten and this one guy even had his face torn off …”

She was cut off by Jaser who flung a broccoli floweret at her head. Julie’s face had gone deathly white.

Cameron opened her mouth to laugh and Jaser interrupted; he didn’t need his wife upset with him tonight, “Why don’t we all head to bed?” He spoke softly and sharply. Cameron knew it really wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command, directed at her, so she just nodded. Kissing Julie on the cheek she headed towards the guest room.

The guest room was bright yellow. It was definitely a scary place to spend too much time. The walls were yellow, the ceiling was yellow, even the bed dressings were yellow. Cameron imagined that this was probably one of the reasons that Jaser and Julie had so few guests. How long had she laid awake staring at the ceiling? An hour? Two? It was impossible to tell. Finally she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, interrupted often by nightmares.