Demon In The Mirror

💀 Penalty - The Price To Pay 💀

Armed with the Boiler case file, the Detective made their way through the fluorescently lit hallway. They knocked on the Superintendent's old heavy wooden door.

"Come in," a voice on the other side of the door barked.

The Detective peeped through the door. "Sir? Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"What is it, Detective?"

The Superintendent sat behind his heavy desk, his back towards the window.

The way the light hit him, his barking way of talking and the boxy shape of his body made people call him the Pitbull.

He signed the Detective to come in and close the door.

"It's about the Boiler case, sir. I went through it again and it just doesn't make any sense."

The Detective fiddled with the case file and took out a series of photographs. They placed them on the Superintendent's desk and continued talking.

"The whole case is built on evidence that wasn't even at the scene of the crime to begin with. See?"

They pointed at the photograph of a colourful candy wrapper with the suspect's fingerprints all over. It lay between some trash near where the victim was found, but it wasn't there in the photographs taken of the victim.

The Superintendent studied the two photographs carefully. "Maybe the body just got in the way to see the wrapper?"

The Detective pointed at the other photographs Forensics had taken of the body, all in different angles, all with the trash visible in the background.

"These ones show the trash even clearer. There's no sign of the wrapper at the scene of crime, sir.

But," they said as they took out a screenshot of the interrogation of the suspect, "there is one here - this is taken two days after the crime, sir.

Look at the date of the photograph of the wrapper at the crime scene. It's the day after the interrogation. And look at the way the wrapper is thorn...

It's the same wrapper, sir. The evidence was planted."

The Superintendent looked at the photographs. He slowly collected them. "I see your point, Detective," he said. "It's a valid one and I will take it into consideration."

The Superintendent dropped the photographs in his garbage can.

"But, sir..."

The Superintendent raised his finger. "I have taken it into consideration and I came to the conclusion that if we both want to remain on active duty we shall drop it.

So don't breathe a word about this, Detective."

✮💀꒰ঌ💀໒꒱💀✮

The Detective drank their water. The pub they had invited me to was dark and gloomy, just like the story they had told me.

"I couldn't let it pass," the Detective said, "not in a million years.

I became a cop to help people, not to lock up innocents. Even if it would cost me my career, I had to right that wrong.

I knocked on the doors of the Prosecutor, judges and even the pro Deo defense lawyers, but they all told me to walk away.

This case was bigger than I imagined. It was one massive cover-up!"

The Detective put down their drink and sighed. "I decided to log every interaction I had and every interaction I would have from then on about the Boiler case and many other cases that felt... off.

They started to get suspicious, though, and I noticed that certain rumours started to go around about my sanity. Don't believe any of them.

I have uncovered the truth about the whole thing - I have names, dates, money transfers, cases, motives - I have everything tucked in here," the Detective said as they pointed at the cardboard box filled with handwritten notes, photographs, bank statements, everything sorted per file.

"But with all the rumours they spread about me," the Detective said, "I doubt anyone would take this serious...

That's why I've now come to you. Read this. Tell me what you think.

And if there's even a remote possibility that I haven't gone crazy and everything I told you is true, then show this to the world.

Don't let them get away with this."

The Detective shoved the cardboard box towards me.

"I'll give it a look," I sighed. This was clearly another nut job wasting my precious writing time.

The Detective nodded. They put on their long hazel jacket, tipped their chestnut hat and left the pub.

I rolled my eyes. Someone has clearly been reading too many detective novels...

The door of the pub closed behind the Detective. They glanced at me through the pub window.

I reluctantly gazed in the cardboard box.

A smile crossed their lips.

Blood splattered on the pub window. Broken glass fell on the floor.

✮💀꒰ঌ💀໒꒱💀✮

I headed to the police station. Those working on the shooting had invited us to come pick up our belongings.

I got my camera and jacket. When I was about to head out the door, something nagged in the back of my head.

Relunctantly, I asked the constable if there wasn't a big cardboard box amongst the items that were cleared.

The constable looked at her list. "There's no cardboard box mentioned on here."

"What about on the evidence list?" I asked. "It's important. Could you please check that list?"

The constable nodded. She checked another piece of paper. "No cardboard box on this one either."

"But it was so big and standing on the table. You couldn't miss it."

A man barked behind me. "No cardboard boxes of any kind were found at the crime scene."

I turned around and stared into the eyes of a man resembling a pitbull.

"Yes, sir," I said and noped my way out.

I might be a defender of the public, but the price of this truth was too high.

My precious love waited for me outside the police station.

Some people are worth living for.