Short Detective Novels Novels & Stories

* I lay awake most of the night thinking nasty thoughts about this case. It was probably the most brutal I had worked on since becoming a private detective. The more recent cases, ones which I have not bothered documenting, had been regular safe jobs supplied by the local firm of solicitors, Hogbin, Moruzzi and Marshall. Boring but profitable. Not a corpse in sight and the only danger I had faced was from my accountant the officious Louise Ann Prime over my expenses – “a new suit to replace the one ruined due to lying in a wet ditch for two hours waiting for a local councillor to complete an amorous assignation with a married woman in the back of his BMW – you must be joking, Mr Handful.”

The crime scene was processed with the usual efficiency, but Casie felt the weight of the note in her pocket like a stone. As she and Rick drove to meet the Captain, she stared out the window, mind racing through possibilities. The symbols, the wounds, that ancient script—all pointed to something far beyond their department's usual homicides. "You're quiet," Rick observed, navigating through morning traffic. "More quiet than usual, I mean." "Just processing," she replied, the half-truth coming naturally after years of hiding her true nature. "These kills are escalating. The first two were found in abandoned buildings, but this one..."

The big question is, where does an assassin hide something as big as the heart of the moon? The detective was more determined than ever. He starts working the case right away. This was his second time dealing with a murder, which was a lot for an average detective (even in the violent crime field) in his early thirties, and blind. Still, protocol wasn't much different from a donut shop robbery.

Yeah, he'd learned to practice patience, but dealing with the police while they questioned Betty had just about driven him to the edge of reason. He opened the car door for her, holding her elbow as she climbed in. Daylight had waned, and the parking garage was dimly lit, the sound of other hospital visitors echoing through the cement structures. Betty listened for other things. Furtive footballs on the pavement. The click of a gun safety being released. The slide of fabric or the soft huff is a breath. Someone had tried to kill Dan just a few weeks ago, and there was no reason to believe that person would be content to let him live. The road went quiet as he stepped around the car. The soun

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.