Disclaimer: All belongs to Joss. I got nada but my imagination.

Characters: Crew, omc, ofc.

Warning: PG for graphic violence, profanity and other grownup things.

Setting: In the town of Silverton, on Santo, immediately prior to “The Train Job”.

Words: 2,885

A/N: As a kid, my two favorite TV genres were westerns and detective shows. I finally decided to tackle both in a mix I’ve thought of as “Firefly CSI”. Click my name to access the previous chapters. If you’re following this tale, I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, and if you’re enjoying it, please pimp it to your friends. Thanks!

X - posted from my LiveJournal.

*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*

Presumption of Guilt

Chapter Ten

Fifteen minutes after leaving his home, Ambrose Murchison entered the restaurant he commonly frequented and asked to be seated in the small private room reserved for him. When his waiter Carlos came, he ordered veal and roasted potatoes and a bottle of excellent wine, which were quickly served.

“Will there be anything else, sir?“ the waiter asked.

“Please close the door, if you would,” Murchison instructed. “I prefer to dine alone this evening, given recent circumstances.”

“Of course, sir. The entire staff extends their condolences, sir,” Carlos offered respectfully.

“Thank you, Carlos.” The waiter turned to leave and Murchison called out, “Carlos? I’ll be leaving for the visitation directly after my meal, so just place everything on my tab, if you would.”

“Certainly, Mr. Murchison.” Carlos bowed slightly and pulled the door to as he left.

Murchison ate sparingly in rapid fashion, rearranging the remains to look as if he’d lingered over his meal, and then drank one glass of the wine, pouring the rest into the potted plants. Panting and struggling, he finally managed to unlatch the shuttered window that opened onto the adjacent alleyway and lower himself over the casing and onto the ground. Once he’d caught his breath, he re-drew t