Detective Comics Novels & Stories

A detective dressed in plain clothes emerges out of the home and walks toward the crowd, where reporters stand with microphones pointed at them. "Detective! Detective! What have you discovered inside? Is there any indication that Diego Myers is a drug dealer?" A journalist inquired. 'What,' I whispered to myself, surprised. The detective maintains his composure while not disclosing too much information. Her gaze moves to the home before he addresses the media. "At this moment, we are undertaking a comprehensive inquiry. As of yet, we have unearthed numerous items of interest, but it is too early to draw any conclusions." The detective answered.

Her eyes glowed red as the energy became fully attached to the officers The victim’s wife opened the door and looked at the police men “May we come in Mrs Jones?” The police men smiled at her “Yes you may” Mrs Jones ushered them in and they quickly took their seats. “I’m the police detective in charge of the case, Parker Steffens” the officer In charge of the questioning said “Nice to meet you Mr Parker Steffens” the woman replied “Would you like to rest for a while? Or are you fully sure that you are well and alright? “Parker said expressing his concerns

In the end, Meredith and George decided to arrange a meeting with the police detective assigned to Helena’s case, Detective Sergio. He was a tall, lean man with clean-cut hazelnut hair. Alice could make out the wrinkles in his forehead and cheeks as he settled himself in front of her. She watched the man remove his black coat and placed it on the table before taking out a medium-sized notepad and a pen. Alice loved comic books about detectives. Her favorite was James Gordon; he was Batman’s acquaintance and a respectable captain of the Gotham City Police Department. Whenever she saw a detective, she could not help but be mesmerized by their badges and work.

I nod, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. That went a lot better than I expected. “Yeah. I think so, too.” I really hate to lie to him, but he left me no choice. This conversation with Matthew must happen, regardless of the consequences I’ll face with him. Walking into the station house, I saunter over to the coffee machine. I quickly poured myself a cup before making my way back to my desk. While taking a sip, I fail to notice Detective Simmons rushing to his desk. The entire cup gushing over my shirt drenching it entirely. I gasp out in shock and pain. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” I barely hear Simmons frantically say.

He pleaded. "I'm not interested." I said in a serious voice, though it was shaking a little bit. "I’m here because I heard rumors of your detective report, then the hospital incident...The wolves.” My eyes went open in shock. I released him slowly. "How do you know that? He stood up, dusting himself off. "You're pretty strong and rough for a lady...but then again, you're a detective. I should have expected this much." My red eyes were fixed on him, demanding an answer. “Who are you?”

"What about hidden compartments? Secret panels? This is a pretty standard security setup for valuable items." Casie nodded, grateful for his practical approach. The detective in her latched onto the problem, using it to anchor her mind against the waves of heat threatening to sweep away her focus.

HIBARA THAT INSIGNIA OF a ghost winking and with a laughing smile holding out a high-five was something I’d seen in my dearest father’s case files before. It seems that this internationally famous thief, Ghost Hand, was someone that the Greatest Consulting Detective of the Century can’t even capture. Of course, Mom has no access to the police files of the Theft-Robbery-Burglary Division since she’s in the CID. “Why are there a lot of kids here?” A voice that could make me roll my eyes sounded from behind.

The perfect life with Jenna Grabbing his travel mug of coffee, and his briefcase he heads to his unmarked car. His very first pay check ten years ago, he went and bought this car and it’s still going. When he got to the station and checked his voicemail, there were five new messages, all from the family of the victims from the murder drug scene he worked a month ago. They’re understandably hurt, shocked and desperate for answers, and they're calling to see if he had any leads or evidence.

I thought I heard something like a scoff or a chuckle, I wasn't really sure what it was; but I’d hear a sound come from Dawson after he finished talking, he started walking towards his vehicle again without turning back to look at me. Detective Dawson would see me as the best partner he ever worked with, although I haven’t thought how I’d achieved that yet, but I just had that feeling. Even though I was slowly falling for the man, I surely didn’t mean romance was part of it. The thought of us making out flashed across my mind and I shivered down there. My God! What has gotten into me, well I certainly wouldn’t blame myself too much, I was in my early thirties and I was single. However, falli

The room smelled of stale coffee and the fresh scent of the lavender resting in a vase on the desk. It was an erratic, pulsing anchor. Jessica sat hunched over the mahogany surface, her hands steady despite the frantic tremor in her chest. Before her lay the parchment, partially stolen document, a relic of a different life. It had been passed to her by a man from her former assassin group, a ghost from a past she had spent years trying to bury. He had been a mentor of sorts, the only one who hadn't tried to kill her when she walked away.