100 Theme Challenge #51

This is the sequel of #50.

51. Gone

Part II

They did find a small dinner opened 24/7. The coffee they were served wasn't bad, but perhaps Jack would have liked anything, at that hour. Being awoken in the early hours was common in his job, yet it didn't mean he liked it. Coffee helped Kenneth through the numbness and choc of witnessing the corpse.

"I was heading back home, and walking through that alley is faster than taking the bigger streets."

"Can you tell me exactly how you encountered the body?"

"I didn't hear anything, if that's what you're asking. I didn't see him at first because the dumpster smells really bad most of the time, you see, and I have the habit to walk fast by it, but this time I saw feet beside it." He took a pause to drink. "I thought at first that it was McDoyle, a regular who's sometimes too drunk to return home. He'd crash there 'till the morning; bless him to be able to stand the smell. So I approached with the intention of waking up…"

"But it wasn't McDoyle," Jack finished for him.

"It wasn't McDoyle. God, I wish there was a drip of two of whiskey in that coffee."

Jack looked around to make sure the waitress was nowhere to be seen before retrieving his flask and putting some of its content into Kenneth's coffee who smelled it and took a sip. He flashed him a row of straight teeth. "Thanks."

"Did you know the victim?" Jack asked, and Kenneth nodded.

"Yes, I'm also a regular at the bar, and he was the barman most of the time I was there."

"But I never saw you before," Jack pondered.

"You simply never noticed me. You were too occupied by brooding and trying to forget yourself in booze," Kenneth smirked.

Jack glared at him, and Kenneth hid his chuckle in his cup. What did he know of his life?

"Did James have any enemies, debts or anything that might have threatened his life?"

Kenneth thought for a moment, pouting his lips unconsciously. "Not that he ever told me. You know how the bartender thing works, the patron usually is the one vomiting his worries to the barman, not the other way around."

Jack nodded. People loved to talk about themselves, but few actually listened. He finished his coffee.

"Do you like your job, Mister Byrnes?"

"Some days are better than others. I believe it is the same with every profession."

"Indeed, but not all involves crimes and tortured corpses. The FBI get the dirtiest jobs the police won't do, is it not?" He leaned closer. "Tell me, Mister Byrnes, do you have nightmares about some cases?"

Jack raised from his seat. "Thank you for your time, Mister Lewinski. Please don't leave the city, it's protocol until we resolve this crime, and we might need you again."

With that he left the dinner, a smoke already dangling from his lips, his expression dark.
(What is 100TC?)