A Final Decision

"I quit."

"You what?" The fairly young officer behind the desk sounded incredulous at the sudden resoluteness that Mr. Sinclaire had come barging into the station with. Steely scarlet eyes bore into him as a hand pushed over a paper across the desk that separated the two.

"I said I quit." Linus repeated, an annoyance in the back of his throat. "This is my letter of resignation with a two weeks notice, not that you really need it."

"B-But, but what about your supervisors back in Degaldo? They transferred you here." The officer quipped nervously. Linus merely raised a skeptical brow.

"I wasn't transferred, I was encouraged."  The memories of the transaction of that day still sat on him like a heavy weight on his shoulders. Transferred... It wasn't a transfer, it was resignation. Abandonment. Replacement. That word pierced his lungs, forcing him to take a breath before shaking his head.  "They may have helped fund it some, but I was not transferred. Even if that's what they're calling it, the transfer would also mean a transfer of supervisors... which means we share the same one. Well, shared."

"Well, why aren't you giving the supervisor your resignation, then?"

Linus gave a lazy shrug as he stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. "I don't know, I thought you'd be a pal and hand that over next time he decides to pay a visit." His gaze flickered to the desk and chair some ways off, devoid of occupancy and with a layer of dust as thick as his pinky finger. You could barely read 'Chief Bowman' on the counter. "Doesn't look like he comes around here very often."

"What are you going to do with all those cases, then?" The officer inquired.

"I plan on keeping them and working on them. It's not exactly like you've got some eager volunteers for that around here, either." He murmured monotonously as eyes lazily looked around the near empty police station.

"Wait... then what are you doing with yourself? Can you even take our cases?

"I'm planning on starting my own business," Linus grinned a wry smirk. "Private eye work. A little less of a paycheck but nothing I can't handle on my own. And of course I can take those cases, why not? There's no other detective on your force. Chances are, if I didn't take them freely, you all would be hiring me to take them, an excuse to take more money away from your local taxpayer. Money I'd rather get paid by them directly, if they hire me."

It had been something he had been mulling over for that past month or so, the repercussions of such a momentous decision. On the one hand he could let this job go, keep the work but do it independently. It'd, of course, be less pay so he'd have to move, and he'd be working on cases older than dirt for free instead of getting paid for it. There was also the possibility that the general public would take notice of such a shift in alliances, opening themselves to him more than they even would in the position he was now. It'd create more job opportunities in the long run, if all went well. On the other hand, however, he could continue working for the local authorities, getting paid a decent check every couple weeks working on the same cases, but working on them for people who disliked him and his sitting position. He'd be working under people who barely came to work, barely talked to their co-workers, barely socialized with the people that lived here.

At the end of the day, he wasn't in this position to serve himself. Sure, it paid the bills, and bills needed to always be paid, but the job was put in place to serve the people. That was all the job was, a service to the people of this town, small as it may be. The people that held lofty positions in law enforcement were clearly more concerned about themselves, and the previous detective didn't even give a hoot about his clients or even his cases. That alone left such a bad taste in Linus's mouth that he almost wanted to spit the taste out. Instead, he cleared he throat. He knew his decision. It was the only decision he could make, the only one he could justify, the only one that felt right.

"If you could let the boss know of my current decision, that'd be great. If he's got any issues, he can call me for a few weeks before I begin to get things sorted. After that, he's going to be out of luck until I get the new office set up." Linus said with a casual shrug before he tipped his fedora to the officer at the desk, who looked more bewildered than anything. "Good talking to you, Mister...?"

It took the officer a moment to respond, the gears clearly turning just slowly. "...Oh! Uh, Orwell. Officer Orwell, sir."

"Nice meeting you, officer Orwell. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around." At that, Linus turned to leave, but paused just when his hand met the door. "A little advice, if I may."

"Uh, sure?"

"Make sure you remember just what your job is all about. We're to serve the people, they aren't to serve us. I've seen a lot of sorry saps settle into that line of thinking in all kinds of job positions and it costs them the respect of their fellow man. If you're in this position only to satisfy yourself, you won't be any good to the next person that walks through this door."

There was a moment of silence that crossed between the two men before Linus pushed the door open, wandering back outside, his shoulders considerably lighter.

Now the real work was about to begin.