Detective Thompson’s best guess was suicide. People who dove off buildings of their own free will usually landed with arms tucked in, legs straight. Sometimes they almost looked at peace. People who were thrown, on the other hand, made a mess. Trying to scramble back air, they landed with arms and legs at all sorts of disjointed angles.
This one, though, had dived head first, which meant a hell of a mess, but a quick and almost assured death. So they were either a very brave and determined suicide or drugged before someone dropped them.
Looking at the burst skull and fractured pieces of spine, Thompson had a feeling that the toxicology report would come back clean. When he received it, he’d wonder why they had chosen to die this way, but then he’d put the file away.
Then and there, Thompson said a quiet prayer for the jumper. If the city and his job ever got to be too much, he’d know that whoever this poor soul was, they had shown him the way.
See the author’s published work here.
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