A young Chinese woman, with the athletic build looks a John for a second then says "We're happy to help supply you, but that's a big order you put in. You'll have to pick it up in the basement. Its the door on your right past the kitchen."<br/><br/>John finds the door easily and descends into the dry, stale storage basement. Within he finds his two detectives.<br/><br/>(http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OKlR8DNcgXc/T31CQeGAM3I/AAAAAAAAAOM/ugRT1ougQG0/s1600/CPD+SGT+010+District.jpg) (http://tinyurl.com/nhfq5vl)<br/><br/>The large white man introduces himself, extending his hand to greet John.<br/><br/>"Thanks for coming. I'm Sergeant McCoy, this is may partner Detective Chris Greenaway."<br/><br/>Greenaway likewise extends his hand as McCoy continues.<br/><br/>"Sorry for all of the clock and dagger theatrical crap. The sad truth is that we think we've stumbled upon something big and nasty, and now we need some outside help." As he speaks, he unrolls a map of the city. John immediately notes that there is a four block by four block area on the map that has been highlighted, and his apartment is on the inside border of it. Both the former location of his clinic, and the location of the teaching hospital built a year after the fire, fall outside of the area's bounds.<br/><br/>Greenaway takes over, "This area that you've moved into has been peaceful for years, in fact, I'd put a year's pay on it being the calmest part of the South Side since the hospital was built. Very low crime volume, little vandalism, no significant gang influences... the list goes on. The only thing was, we used to get missing persons reports about twice a year. Unfortunately, CPD's priorities have been in more violent areas, and no bodies ever turned up, so the department had nothing to go and far more pressing cases. Now though, something's changed. The number of people going MIA has spiked and we're getting a report almost every week. Then, last night, we found some dogs tugging on this near the old apartment buildings."<br/><br/>Greenaway opens up an unmarked cooler beside him. Inside, sitting on ice, is a human arm that's been broken in several places and looks like shredded near the shoulder.<br/><br/>"We've already got a DNA ID on who it belonged to. Aly Loranne, one of our missings. Nineteen. Just moved her a couple weeks ago from the Bronx. We already knew she was trying to kick her drug habit and get into college. Such a waste of human life."<br/><br/>"This is where it gets freaky," takes over McCoy again, "I go to our boss, saying that we've got evidence that at best, we had a sadist psycho on our hands on the block, and you know what he says to me? We don't have legal jurisdiction to go into the area. We are Chicago PD, how the fuck do we not have jurisdiction to protect our own city. That's why we're talking in this cellar here. I smell a rat. A big one. We were hoping you'd be able to take a look at the remains of Ms Loranne to help us establish a CoD. I don't want to be a pessimist here, but I think its pretty clear that whatever happened killed her. I was also hoping that you'd be able to look into what's going on in your community. We've heard you've a reputation for helping people. Well, if no one figures out what's going one, a whole lot more people are going to get hurt. And since our boss is being a corrupt SOB..."<br/><br/>He let's the rest of the sentence hang.<br/><br/>"So, what do you say?"