The night is crisp and clear for a change. The darkness of night surrounds you, but it is pushed back by the light you carry. The periodic clicking of boots on stone can be heard from the darkness as others move about just outside your vision. A steady tapping can be heard as water drips off the roofs to the ground from this afternoon's rain. The mud is slick under your feet as it oozes around your boots. Finally you reach the area of the reported murder. The fifth in as many days. You can tell you have reached the place by the smell that assaults your nose and sound of buzzing flies. Rounding the corner you see a young man, barely old enough to shave, lying on the ground in a pool of blood. His corpse is mangled and his chest lies exposed to the elements. This man died of a broken heart, as did all the others.