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him but he wasn’t killed by magic. From what I can see, he died from strangulation.”
    “Does that mean that the killer had magic but just didn’t use it to kill this guy? Or , that the dead guy has magic but was killed by regular means?”
    “From what I see, the first would be correct. This fellow was definitely mundane Human.”
     
    Huh. That was strange. Most Others, which incorporated all beings other than mundane Humans, would use their magic if they were going to kill a Human. They figure “Why get their hands dirty”. This was odd. Why would he strangle the guy if he could have used magic to kill him? I mean, not all Others could work spells and potions. Take Vamps and Weres for example. They have magic and when they kill a Human by either draining them of blood or shredding them with their claws, it still shows up that the Human was killed by magical means. Because a Were’s transformation and a Vamp’s fangs are their magical weapons, so to speak. Al was saying that whoever killed this guy had magic available but just chose not to use it to kill him. Why?
     
    “You are sure the killer was an Other, right?” I asked.
    He gave me a nasty look. “Of course I’m sure.”
    I held my hands out in front of me. “Okay. Sorry, I was just making sure. Sheesh. Did you find an ID on him?”
    “There wasn’t anything in his front pockets. I was waiting until someone arrived to help me remove him from this dumpster before I could reach his back pockets.”
    He gave me a pointed look. Uh, no. Dumpster diving is not in my job description. Not that I haven’t had to dive in a dumpster before while working a job, but that was a “save my ass” moment and this is definitely not.
     
    I walked over to the men in blue hovering in the perimeter.
    “Al needs a big strong man to help him remove the body.”
    Nobody moved.
    “I was referring to one of you. I can see how you would misunderstand me,” I said sternly while looking at the ir over-sized bellies.
    Even though they were regular beat cops , they were to work in conjunction with our task force and assist us in any way we need, but usually they tried to stay out of it.
    “I hear you ’re half Demon. Why don’t you use your demonic powers to remove the body,” one of the wiseasses said.
    “I have a better idea. Why don’t I use my demonic powers to suck your soul out and send it south where it’s going to end up in a few years any way?”
    Surprisingly enough, he didn’t think that was funny. His friends started looking around nervously. I wouldn’t know how to suck someone’s soul out if my own depended on it. But , they didn’t know that.
     
    “I’ll be sure to tell my captain about your threat,” he said.
    “And I’ll be sure to tell mine how uncooperative you were,” I replied.
    That seemed to change their attitude. No one wanted to be on Sergeant Copula’s bad side. They all three walked over to the dumpster and soon had the guy laid out on the body bag Al provided. Al checked the other pockets and found a wallet.
    “Stephen Wilkins. 403 Fifth Street , apartment 3C. There are no credit cards or bank receipts. No keys. Nothing else that would help find next of kin,” Al said as he handed me the ID.
    “Alright. Thanks.” I turned to the assholes. “I need the entire dumpster went through. Anything that you think might be evidence needs to be bagged up and sent to HQ.”
    I didn’t wait to hear their replies. I just walked back to my car and headed for Fifth Street. I’m sure they were pissed to be given such a menial task but I really didn’t care. That’s what they get for being assholes. As homicide agent of the Human’s Rights task force, I outrank them even though they are from another division.
     
    When I arrived at 403 Fifth, I parallel parked then headed up to the third floor. I knocked on the door before entering the apartment. When no one answered, I picked the lock and went inside. It looked like a typical bachelor