Crow's Nest [✓]

Part 3 - Chapter 31

It was still early as the morning sun crept through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room.

Harry woke up first, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table - 6AM. It was still earlier than he usually woke, but he couldn't help but feel antsy.

The loud banging sound at the front door was enough to wake Thomas from his restless sleep. He sat up abruptly, his heart racing from the sudden disturbance.

Harry quickly sat up in his bed as well, his mind quickly going over the potential threats outside the front door.

The banging continued, growing more insistent. Thomas got out of bed, grabbing the gun inside his nightstand drawer and made his way to the front door. He checked the peephole, trying to see who was on the other side, but all he could make out was a figure covered in shadows.

'One normal morning... Is that too much to ask for' Thomas thought.

Thomas clenched his jaw, steeling himself for whatever awaits for him on the other side of the door. Slowly, he undid the lock and opened it a crack, his other hand clutching his gun.

As the door opened, the figure on the other side came into view. Standing on the doorstep was Richard Flint, looking angry and impatient.

Thomas moved out of the apartment, shutting the door behind him. He didn't want Flint inside his home. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked gruffly, facing the man.

Flint took a step closer, his demeanor aggressive. "I hear you've been stirring things up, asking around about a doctor. The Doc, ain't that right?"

Thomas felt a chill run down his spine. How did Flint know that? He tried to maintain a neutral expression. "Maybe. What of it?"

Flint's eyes narrowed. "The Doc is none of your concern, so back off. You're stirring up trouble and you don't know what you're getting into."

Thomas remembered the fire report he had seen on his phone last night. "Funny you mention trouble. Last night, there was a fire at an abandoned warehouse near the docks. Anything to do with you?"

Flint narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint reflecting some anger. "Why the hell are you asking me about that? You think I start fires as a hobby?"

Thomas pressed on, hoping to catch Flint off guard. "Well, it was an abandoned warehouse. You're pretty cozy with the criminal underworld, aren't you? Any chance it was one of your warehouses?"

Flint was silent for a moment, his face betraying nothing. But Thomas could see the flicker of anger in his eyes.

"I don't know what you're getting at, cop," he finally said, trying to sound nonchalant. "I own a lot of empty warehouses. But even so, why would I set fire to my own property?"

"So it was yours?" Thomas said crossing his arms

Flint gritted his teeth, realizing his slip-up. "I didn't say that," he said gruffly, trying to save face. "And even if it was, that doesn't make me responsible for the fire. It could've been anyone - squatters, a rival, who knows? Plenty of people out there with a vendetta against me."

Thomas scrutinized Flint, noticing the man's subtle body language. The way he averted his eyes, the slight twitch in his jaw. He was hiding something.

"Flint, I know you're not being entirely truthful with me here," Thomas said, his voice steely. "You know something about that fire. I can see it on your face."

Flint glanced around again, ensuring no one could overhear. "This wasn't my doing, cop," he repeated. "But I do know who's responsible."

Thomas narrowed his eyes before sighing. "Come inside, I don't want the neighbours to get noisy. Just... Don't insult my partner, alright?"

Flint grinned mischievously. "Why would I do anything like that, cop?"

Thomas turned around opening the door.