Detectives Novels & Stories

he told him and Matteo just nodded, thinking of what Spade wanted the guest list for, last he checked the man was a Don and not a detective. Spade could feel it in his bones that something was definitely amiss here, and something tells him that it's not just a coincidence that all those targeted were people close to him, and now the cops have his car in custody, everything was already forming a pattern and he could see from a mile away whose handwork this was Matteo relaxed back on the couch, the leather making a loud noise. Spade looked back at the laptop screen, whoever this mystery man was, they didn't even know half of what they were messing with.

He bowed slightly and left. The inspector general heaved a sigh. He hated to see his officers so clueless. But something was strange; Bob had seemed unbothered. All his years in the bureau, Inspector Akhere has seen many smart and creative detectives but he has seen none like Bob Andrews. Smart, creative, fast, and alert, Bob had built a name for himself as the Detective of Detectives. He used the brains of other detectives and he gets positive results. At first, the inspector felt he was just another control freak, but after a close study of the man he finally understood him.

He flashed a wry smile, beginning his introduction. “Welcome, everyone,” he said, his voice smooth and steady. “I’m Detective Jamal Khan. By day, I teach you all how to defend yourselves. By night, I deal with the kinds of cases that make that knowledge necessary— cases involving our kind; werewolves, witches, and all those creatures lurking in the shadows.” A hand shot up from the middle row—a young man with an eager expression. “Have you… taken any lives, Detective?” he asked, his tone part-curious, part-nervous.

He flared his nose. “Larry Forester. He's a good detective. He's secretly investigating. No eyes in him.” Jay looked frustrated, he widened his face showing his teeth. He grinned but his eyes couldn't lie. Detective Solando might have unravelled some secrets about this case. Jayden eyes spiraled. He's thinking of something. Does he have a plan in his mind?” He pounced on feet. “Sure.” He sighed. We strode to where our car was. Jay unlocked his driver's seat ready to start the car. A snow white paper etched with blood glued to his stirring.

Until, I saw the badges and guns at their hips. "Natalia, these detectives wish to speak with you. They wouldn't tell me what it was about." He looked at them as if accusing them of something. I slid off the stool because sitting down while they were standing seemed like I was admitting to something and they hadn't even asked any questions yet. "How do you do? I'm Natalia Jacobs. What is this about?" I inquired politely, my southern twang more obvious than usual. "I'm Dective Benson, this is Dective Shaw. We are with the County Sheriff's Department. May we sit down?" The male officer asked as he pointed toward the direction of the living room.

Lord Dragnon asked. “Yes, Father, I'm aware. Our finest detectives are on the case; they are working day and night to try and figure out who or what is causing these deaths,” Robbert replied. “Ohhh, son, are you so blind?” Lord Dragnon asked, squinting his eyes. "What... what do you mean by that?” Robbert stuttered, his heart rate increasing by a little.

I stared at the screen, hands shaking as Jenna's interview played. Reporters swarmed her. She just smiled, calm as ever. "I have a special ability," she said. "I can see from a killer's perspective. That's how I found the serrated knife and tracked him down." The crowd went wild. "No wonder Detective Blake's unstoppable!" "With her around, criminals don't stand a chance!" Then a reporter cut through the noise: "Since you joined, Detective Mercer hasn't solved a single case. What do you think about that?"

Detective Sullivan attempted his way over towards me, but barely passed Elizabeth when Captain Johnston’s voice was heard throughout the room. “Anderson! My office!” I take one last look at Elizabeth before sulking my way into his office. “Captain.” I say shaking his hand. “Detective Anderson. I didn’t expect to see you back in my office, let alone my squad room. How have you been?” His calm demeanor taking me by surprise. I half expected the same reaction I had gotten from Elizabeth. The way I left everything; I was amazed he wasn’t yelling down my throat.

He’s Jillian May, a detective. “I’m Brandon Niall, a detective as well. This time might not be the best approach considering the burial had just finished, but it’s way better to cooperate with us as soon as the incident is still fresh in your mind.” The other man said as he showed them his identification card as well.

THE DETECTIVE'S TESTIMONY LUCIEN'S POV The detective's name is Colin Mercer, he is sixty-one years old. He retired from the police service fourteen years ago on a pension that, it has now been established, was supplemented substantially by a series of payments from a nominee account connected to Victor Hale's network of intermediary companies. He spent eleven days investigating Robert Vale's death. He closed the case as accidental. He retired shortly after and has spent fourteen years in a house in the Midlands with a garden and a routine and the particular arrangement of someone who has agreed with themselves not to examine certain things too closely.