"How did you get them?" Scott pushed.
"I have a few friends on the force and, well, this is my beat you know. Crime, disaster, murder, violence, crisis, death and de- struction on the streets. Good promo stuff for the Big Apple."
"Are there any more?" Scott ignored Ben's self pity.
"My guy said there were so many that a few wouldn't make any difference."
"Holy Christ!" Scott said aloud as he sat back in thought.
"What is it? Scott? Does this mean something?"
"Can I have these, Ben? Do you need them?"
"Nah! There's no blood on 'em? Not my kinda story. I just remembered that secret papers and computers are your thing, so they're yours." Ben stood up. "Just remember, next time you hear about a serial killer, it's mine."
"Deal. And, hey, thanks a lot. Drinks on me." Scott caught Ben before he left. "Ben, one more thing."
"Yeah?" Ben stopped.