Detective Files 2 Novels & Stories

Sick and tired of hearing the news I saw for myself… *** I swerved my old Mercedes into the hospital’s car park. I had to start my investigation tonight; and I was hoping I’d find something on Samantha’s body. Sleeping would be hard as from now, I had no time to waste; that shooter needs to be found fast. That was the only thing that would give me comfort now, not silly condolences and pitiful stares. “Glad you came, just wanted to dial up your number,” The voice sounded very familiar. I came out of my car to see her removing the blue detective gloves from her hand, it was Jane Johnson; my new partner.

He nodded his head to the files. " Thought you would find it interesting. " Detective Brady took the files. Sigh heavily, it's going to be a long night tonight as he knows he won't be able to sleep untill he find out who this basterds is who sweep in and out leaving nothing but chaos. From a distance a pair of red eyes watches as the police search everywhere for clues. Snickering softly but with a cruel undertone. "You will die before you will ever find me. No one will stop me from getting my queen. She belongs to me and no one else."

Jace sat calmly at the metal table while Detective Cole reviewed files across from him. No lawyer yet. That surprised Cole slightly. “You’re quiet,” the detective observed. Jace leaned back casually. “You haven’t asked anything interesting yet.” Cole opened the file slowly. “Did you kill Daniel Park?” Straight to it. He had no time for games. Jace looked at him carefully. Then smiled slightly. “You detectives really love dramatic questions.” Cole didn’t smile back. “Did you kill him?” Jace stayed silent for three full seconds. Then finally— “No.” The answer sounded smooth.

A blue device icon appeared on the desktop. I double-clicked the drive icon. The window opened to reveal a single, unencrypted root folder. Printed in stark, capital black letters across the top of the file path was the folder title: HOTEL CCTV - PRIVATE COPY **To be Continued**

H replies. “I'm sure it's not dangerous. I mean why would it be?” I ask. I take it in my office and sit it on my desk. I open it and find some black dead flowers. They are just lying in the box with a folded letter. I reach for it to open it. “DON'T!!! Fingerprints!” Damien shouts. **PHONE** “This is Damien Parks at Miller, Thomas and Thomas. We need a detective here immediately. We've received a questionable package.” Damien explains.

Arthur is checking the file carefully. After half an hour, he finished checking the file, closed it, and looked ahead with an angry look. The answers he was trying to find in the file were nowhere to be found. The detective stood in front of him with his head bowed. Arthur then said in a serious voice, "I told you not to leave anything out, didn’t I? Then why is there no information about the kids? Explain it. Why did you do this"

A younger officer entered, refusing to meet Adrian’s eyes. He placed a new set of folders on the table, whispered something into the detective’s ear, and gave a slight, subconscious bow to Adrian before scurrying out. ​The detective flipped through the new files. A slow, mocking smirk spread across his face. He tossed a set of photos and documents toward Adrian. ​"You don't need to confess anymore," the detective whispered. "These are clear. You can stop the act, Moretti. We have everything we need to bury you."

Coco said, raising a glass in the air. Delma smiled widely. *** "Where is the evidence?" Detective Flynn asked, as he barged into the office. The office was a mess, Detective Lauren scattered papers, files and documents across the room. Everything was turned upside down. "Don't tell me you can't find it." Detective Flynn said, scattering more files. Detective Lauren reached the last step of her locker, she closed her eyes. Slowly opening her eyes, she opened the locker praying silently to find the tape. It wasn't there. The locker was empty.

The sound of the metal clinking was the loudest thing I’d ever heard. "You're under arrest," the detective said. I tried to sit up, the IV tugging painfully at my skin. "For what? He didn't do anything! He was trying to save my father!" The detective looked at me, and for a second, I saw a flicker of something that looked like regret. But then he pulled a folder from under his arm and tossed it onto my bed. It was a copy of the files I had tried to leak, the ones Sarah Vance had twisted.

Her absence made private things feel exposed, like a body left uncovered. He pushed the study door closed and crossed to his desk where the drive sat in its small, black case. For a moment he hesitated, thumb brushing the metal as though it might bite. Then he inserted the flash drive into the slot and watched the screen blink like an eye opening in the dark. Files came up—names, dates, video thumbnails. An archived audio. His breath hitched. There, in the middle of a file list, a label: proof_final.mov. He double-clicked.