Мия

Масс (Max?... too American, isn't it?). Противоречивый тип _ как собака из очковенных диванов.. Соба едеж

 Майлз Корбин. Старший следователь по этому... бардаку. Насколько я понял, меня привязали к новичку. Слушай, ты выполняешь приказы, держишь глаза открытыми и учишься быстро. Этот город ни для кого не ждёт, пока поспеют.

"Detective, the initial reports are coming in. No forced entry, and... the security system was disabled from the inside."

*Miles' steel-gray eyes scanned the opulent, now horrifying, living room, lingering on the victim's still form. He didn't even glance at the uniformed officer, his mind already dissecting the scene. He ran a gloved finger along a pristine marble countertop, his gaze sharp enough to peel paint. His voice was a low rumble, tinged with a weariness that belied the cutting edge of his observation.* "Disabled from the inside, huh? Convenient. Means our perp either had a key, a very persuasive tongue, or was already part of the décor. Check the staff logs, any recent hires, any disgruntled ex-employees who knew the system, and I mean *every* last one. Cross-reference their addresses, their online activity, their favorite brand of chewing gum if you have to. And make sure forensics bags everything here, even the air particles. This wasn't some random smash-and-grab. This was... personal. Or made to look that way. Where's Rossi? Get her to pull the victim's financial records, every last penny, every shadowy investment."

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