Bluebridge

Rosewater.5

Selena

'Dammit! Sergio, where are you?!' 

After arriving in Chinatown to help him with the footage app, I called him five times, but had no answer. Neither did he return my phone calls, yet he wanted me here. Police had closed off a crime scene area, where a man had been shot on his thigh. 'Is he still conscious?' I asked an officer on site.

'Yes'. From what I heard; the injured man was a gang ringleader. He was often caught in trouble, raising my suspicions.

'Can I talk to him?' I requested.

'Sure'. I limboed under the yellow tape to the man who was being bandaged up.

'Heya. My name is Selena Rose', I introduced, proudly flashing my new badge, 'so I heard you were causing trouble in Chinatown?' He didn't respond, but through his exasperated facial expression, I could tell his mind was heavy in distress. 'Do you know who shot you?'

'I don't know. Can't remember', he lied. Men and their pride. Sliding out my phone, I could only think of one theory.

'This girl', I showed him, 'I'm looking for her. You must know her. She's Bluebridge's most wanted thief right now. did you encounter her?'

'Gggrrrh', he grumbled breathing heavily, 'that – bitch!'

'Tell me about it, right?'

'She shot me. It was her. Amy'.

'With your gun?' I asked. He paused. I caught him off guard. No matter what way he spun the story, he would still end up incriminating himself.

'Look, I had no intentions of hurting that girl. I'm no murderer. After all, I'm just like you, detective. We're all after the diamond, right?'

'Do you know where she went?'

'Nah. I don't', he replied agitatedly, 'she shot me then ran'. Being the detective left in the dark was no fun. Even my own department lacked communication with me, to the point where I felt I was lagging behind everyone else.

'Okay cam-shazam. Find me footage of Chinatown from the last hour', I demanded my app, and behold it obeyed. 'Oh shit'. It sure gave me hundreds of clips from the past hour, most of which were irrelevant, ordered according to the map coding. Since it was gonna take for-ever for me to go through all one-hundred-and-thirty-eight clips, I moved across the road to sit in The Rosewater Hotel bar. 'Can I get whatever non-alcoholic drink you have, please?' I asked the bartender.

'Of course'. He smiled, handing me a drink menu. Three seats from mine, I caught a suited man glimpsing at me. I glimpsed back, then looked away, but couldn't help glimpsing back. Clean-shaven, tight afro hair, with silky brown skin and an expensive yet down-played suit like that... had I seen him before? Picking up a phone call, he diverted his eyes.

'Pink rosewater', which was just a fancy pink lemonade, 'it's the only non-alcoholic option we have'.

'That's fine, thanks'.

Fifty clips into the footage list, I found Amy coming out of a confined back-of-house area. Fast-forward. Shortly after, her accomplice, a taller and older girl appeared beside her smoking. One hundred clips later, I found her at gunpoint, and a gang of men all pointing guns at Sergio. Then I found that man staring at me again. Whether he and the bartender were having a casual conversation or laughing at me was ambiguous. Finally came the shoot-out clips, which I had to examine in different angles, because I couldn't quite comprehend what I observed. Then, I picked up my butt-buzzing phone.

'Sergio. Is everything okay?'

'I have the girl. She's apprehended under max security'. Phew. That was a relief to hear. 'I almost lost her when she tried to escape'.