"Eh, that works with my personal view of things, but not what I can put in the report." Kettering flicked the tattered remains of his cigarello off the roof, then stood facing her. "The victim was startled in his office. He fled, jumping out the window. Suppose he had some way to fly. The killer follows, catches and kills him, then pins him to the light as a warning, or just as a bit of bragging or theater. Hard to say at this point."<br/><br/>"The coroner would probably need to take some time to determine if the spike wasn't the cause of death. Windy rooftops and pan fried bodies don't make his job easy." The grumpy detective shoved his hands into his coat pockets, "Not that any of this helps me find whoever doing these killings. You've got my card. No matter how insane the information you find is, share it with me. If nothing else, having a bit of muscle at your back isn't a bad thing when you're dealing with something that can do that." He nodded toward the light, then opened the roof access door for her.<br/><br/>"After you, ma'am."