Ferd Smith
Feed smiled sheepishly at the mention of the times he'd attempted to avoid being arrested. But if anyone else knew what he did, they wouldn't have blamed him. Not all cops could be trusted after all.
As they pulled up to the mid sized police precinct Ferd took a look around. Nothing to fancy, pretty much what you'd expect from a police station. A spot for civilians to park, a separate area for cop cars in the back, and fenced off area for vehicles being held for further inspection. The building itself was three stories high, which seemed a bit excessive to Ferd. Two stories sure, but Arkham wasn't that big, and he doubted that this precinct covered that much of the city anyways. By the looks of the building it was one of the newer ones, meaning it was probably as large and fancy as it was purely out of pride. City Father's all over America had been making a big deal out of building newer bigger buildings to show off their cities wealth.
This was probably part of that. After all, what did a precinct need? A holding cell, an interigation room or two, offices for discussion and planning, and cubicles for paper work. Ferd grunted. He'd bet that third floor was all but empty, the police chief probably being the only one to use it. Ferd imagined him kicking back in the largest office available upstairs. With a roll of his eyes he opened the door as Dirk parked. Police needed to spend less time concerned with procedure and pomp. There were real mysteries out there that needed real solving.