Being nearby while out on patrol, Walsh took up the call when it came in.
Some newly installed tech in their district had detected a surge of supernatural energy, and traced it back to a library just before the readings dropped off their radar.

His automobile was turned down a side street, cutting back onto a main road until he could turn it into the library's parking lot.

He shut off the vehicle before stepping out into the chill autumn air, feeling refreshed under warm layers of belt-tightened reinforced clothing, and hiding a smile as he walked towards the sandstone building, pleased to have something relatively peaceful divert his attention while on the job.

Nonchalantly he examined the doors and window frames, glass and splintered wood crunching underfoot.
He pulled out a handheld device to check for fantastical residue the same as a geiger counter would scan for radiation, slowly working his way through the library's entrance, carefully stepping over the doors that had broken off their hinges.

Walsh noted the stairway beside the front door.
Passing the detector to one hand, he pulled out a small square device from his belt, and set it down on the floor a meter off from the stairs, angling the face of the object upwards.
It was a small motion tracker that would alert him should anything start to head down the stairs.

With that in place and activated, he headed further inside across the first floor.
Books fallen from collapsed shelves rustled, stray papers and posters rolling like tumbleweeds across the floor.
Aging electronics had crashed against shelves and walls, and some lighting fixtures had even been ripped from the ceiling, shattered bulbs and lamp casings littering the floor and small holes with wires left where the ceiling lamps had once been.
The library was dark and silent, and the lingering energy was dissipating, if slowing down in its degradation.

His eyes were drawn almost immediately to where the floor had buckled like a crater near the front desk.
It was as good a candidate as any for the core of the explosion, and it m if the library had a basement in addition to the second story.
After passing the detector over it, he once more shifted the bulky object to a single hand, and lifted the sleeve of one of his arms.
He pointed his watch towards the crater as he started to sidle around it, snapping a few photos from several angles.

He ended up behind the front desk, glancing over at whatever lay behind it.
His gaze was caught by a light switch.
Had the electricity possibly been knocked out by this, too?

Before he flipped it, he paused.

He hadn't given much of a glance to the parking lot on his way in, but with the sun close to rising he was sure the library would be opening within the hour, which meant two things: someone of the staff had to be around or would be arriving soon, and he'd need to set up some barricades soon so that no one, staff or visitor, tried to enter the library.
He had a whole other floor to investigate, after all, and he hadn't gone through all of this one yet.

Walsh passed back around the desk, tugging some yellow tape from his pockets to pull across the opening that was left behind by the doorless front, and using that opportunity to give the parking lot a better look-see, his gaze passing from one corner to another before settling on the bicycle rack near the front.
There was probably a back door staff used somewhere, but he'd wait on that one for the moment.

Circling the crater once more, he moved behind the front desk and set a device down upon its surface, this one a simple 360 degree magic detector.

Then Walsh flipped the light switch and waited for about fifteen seconds, no matter whether the few remaining lights turned on or not, his ears pinned to the silence.
He kept his finger on the switch, expecting some of the exposed wires in the ceiling to spark, preparing to shut the switch off early should it prove too dangerous to be kept on.

After that test had been conducted and the switch was flipped back, should nothing too remarkable have occurred, Walsh would call out: "Who is that?"
The question was carefully posed to make it seem as though he already knew or suspected someone to be present, a minor trick that the force liked to teach its officers.
But of course he had no clue as to whether or not the library was actually inhabited at that moment.

No suggestions of a presence; silence and little evidence that someone was once here.

Walsh lowered his gaze to the computer and the purse.
The monitor had toppled over, and although warm, he didn't suppose there would be anything of critical importance on it.
He slid on a pair of rubber gloves and started shuffling through the purse, skimming through its contents for anything suspicious or a wallet, cards, any form of identification.
If something strange was found it would be deposited in a plastic baggie then thrown in an inner pocket of his uniform's jacket; identification he would snap a photo of before replacing them, and returning the purse as he had found it.

Before he left the desk he turned off the magic detector and pocketed it in its proper pouch.

Walsh stepped softly but swiftly across the first floor, fingers tucked into his pockets where they were safely near various devices that could become necessary in an instant.
He checked down the aisles between the rows of bookshelves and in corners hidden behind the stacked shelves or any unlocked rooms off the main area.
If nothing of note was found he'd soon find himself back beside the front stairs, stepping up them after only a moment's pause taken to turn the motion tracker around so that it was staring at the front doors.

Then he would finally start to ascend the stairs.