The Art Of Death

Chapter 5: Uncovering Ghosts

Scene 1: A Troubling Discovery

Setting: The precinct basement, surrounded by old files. Ethan and Marcus stand amidst the dusty records, the name Joseph Callahan hanging heavy in the air.

Ethan's stomach churned as he stared at the name. His father's partner—his mentor—had been involved with Cross? The man who had practically raised him after his father died... could he be part of the darkness his father had been investigating?

Marcus scratched his head, trying to piece it together. "So Callahan represented Cross, but that doesn't mean he's involved. He could have just been doing his job."

Ethan shook his head, his instincts screaming otherwise. "No, there's more to it. My dad trusted him, but what if Callahan was keeping secrets? What if he knew more about these murders?"

He rifled through the remaining pages in the file, hoping for something—anything—that would give him answers. Nothing. The file was thin, almost as if parts of it had been removed.

Marcus glanced at the empty spaces in the file and then back at Ethan. "Look, let's not jump to conclusions yet. We need to talk to Callahan."

Ethan clenched his fists. "If he's involved, I want him to tell me to my face."

Scene 2: Meeting with Callahan

Setting: A quiet café downtown, where Joseph Callahan usually grabbed his morning coffee. The place was small and intimate, with a few patrons scattered around. Ethan and Marcus sit at a corner table, waiting.

Ethan tapped his fingers on the table, his eyes fixed on the door. The wait felt like an eternity, the tension rising with every passing minute. Marcus was unusually quiet, sensing the storm brewing inside his partner.

Finally, the door swung open, and Joseph Callahan walked in. The years hadn't been kind to him—his hair was grayer, his shoulders slumped with the weight of time. But his eyes were sharp as ever, scanning the room before they landed on Ethan and Marcus.

"Ethan," Callahan greeted warmly, a smile touching his lips as he approached the table. "Good to see you, son."

Ethan forced a smile, though the words felt hollow. "It's been a while, Joe. Thanks for meeting us."

Callahan took a seat, his demeanor calm and collected. "Of course. What's this about?"

Ethan exchanged a quick glance with Marcus before diving in. "I've been looking into some old cases—cases my dad worked on before he died."

Callahan's expression shifted slightly, but he remained composed. "Is that so?"

"There's a name that keeps popping up," Ethan continued, his voice steady. "Daniel Cross. And it turns out you represented him a few years ago."

Callahan leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he studied Ethan. "I did. But that was a long time ago. What does this have to do with your father?"

Ethan's jaw tightened. "I think Cross is connected to the murders happening now. The same ones my dad was investigating."

There was a brief silence, the weight of Ethan's accusation hanging in the air. Callahan let out a slow breath, his face hardening. "Ethan, your father was a great detective, but you know as well as I do that he wasn't always...right. He had a lot of theories, and not all of them held up."

Ethan's fists clenched under the table. "You're saying he was wrong about Cross?"

"I'm saying that Cross wasn't the killer," Callahan replied, his tone measured. "Your father was chasing ghosts. And it got him killed."

Ethan's heart pounded in his chest. "So you knew about his investigation?"

Callahan's eyes darkened. "Of course I knew. I tried to help him, but he wouldn't listen. He was too obsessed with finding someone to blame."

Marcus, sensing the tension escalating, leaned forward. "If you knew he was going down a dangerous path, why didn't you do more to stop him?"

Callahan shook his head, his voice bitter. "You think I didn't try? I warned him. I told him to back off. But he wouldn't. He was convinced that Cross or someone connected to him was involved in a string of murders, but he never had proof. He was too close to it, and it clouded his judgment."

Ethan felt the anger boiling inside him, but before he could speak, Callahan leaned in, his voice low. "Listen to me, Ethan. I loved your father like a brother. But you need to be careful. You're walking the same path he did. And if you keep digging, you'll end up just like him."

Ethan met his gaze, the weight of Callahan's words pressing down on him. But there was no turning back now. He couldn't stop—not when he was so close.

Scene 3: The Rabbit Hole Deepens

Setting: Ethan's apartment, late at night. Papers and files are strewn across the floor as Ethan frantically searches for clues. The air is thick with frustration and exhaustion.

Ethan sat at his desk, staring at the notes and files that cluttered the surface. His conversation with Callahan replayed in his mind. There was something he wasn't being told—something his father had been on the verge of discovering before he was killed.

He glanced at his father's notebook, flipping through the pages once again. There had to be something he was missing.

As his fingers grazed over a faded page, a small piece of paper fell out from between the pages. Ethan picked it up, frowning. It was an old receipt from a storage facility, dated just a week before his father's death.

His heart raced. Why hadn't he noticed this before?

He grabbed his phone and dialed Marcus. "I found something. Meet me in ten minutes."

Scene 4: The Hidden Files

Setting: A rundown storage facility on the outskirts of town. The night is eerily quiet as Ethan and Marcus step out of their car, flashlights in hand.

The storage facility looked abandoned, its rusted gates and cracked concrete walls giving off a sense of neglect. Ethan led the way, the receipt clutched tightly in his hand.

They found the unit number listed on the paper and unlocked the door. Inside, it was dark and musty, the air thick with dust. Boxes were stacked against the walls, each labeled with dates and case numbers.

Ethan's flashlight landed on a box marked Cross Investigation. His pulse quickened as he pulled it down and opened the lid. Inside were files—dozens of them—documents his father had collected over the years.

Marcus whistled softly. "Your dad wasn't messing around."

Ethan flipped through the files, his hands trembling. There were notes on Cross, photos of the crime scenes, and witness statements his father had gathered. But as he dug deeper, his eyes widened at what he found next.

A photograph.

It was old, worn at the edges, but the image was clear: his father, standing beside Joseph Callahan and Daniel Cross.

Ethan's blood ran cold.

Callahan hadn't just known about the investigation. He had been involved from the very beginning.