George Viatelli was sitting in an upmarket coffee shop, enjoying an exquisite espresso, his Italian heritage gave him a taste for fine coffee - among other things.

As he finished it off, swirling the empty cup appreciatively, his phone bleeped. A quick glance at the screen revealed that there had been another murder. The look of enjoyment was gone in an instant and replaced by a hard, bordering on obsessed, look on his face. "Sorry John, got to get going, work stuff." After a grunt in reply from the barrista, George vanished, accompanied by a soft 'pop' sound.

Teleporting all the way to the crime scene required lot of energy, but George was unphased by this, there was little chance of a fight since the criminals would be long gone. Ducking under the police cordon and pausing to straighten his suit, after flashing his detective badge and striding over to the body, he knelt and examined it. A voice near his ear told him there was no match on the victim.

"Chances are this was an Addario kill" George said out loud, to no one in particular, "the amount of ice embedded in it and the fact our most recent sources tell us this is now Addario territory give it away." As he stood, George sighed, despite their best efforts people continued to die. Innocent bystanders as often as mobsters, and the murderers could just slip away in to the croud and they were none the wiser.

Looking around he saw Massino arriving, he had never properly spoke to him but recognised him from the office. Their was something off about that guy, but pushing his speculating aside he walked up to him and offered his hand to shake. 

"Detective Viatelli" he said, by way of introduction.