Black and Grey: A detective story

Chapter 1

I straightened my black tie in the reflection of the microwave, peeking at the daily newspaper in my right hand.

March/7/1951

RETIRED DETECTIVE ANNOUNCES RETURN

Even though I had only been released for retirement a few months prior, I felt the police force still needed the experience of a senior detective such as myself. My photograph on the newspaper wasn't my best, but even as a forty-five-year-old man, my face still maintained it's rugged charm. I smirked at the thought as I sipped my coffee. I couldn't help but wonder what Scarlette would have had to say about this. Knowing her, she would have been relieved.

"It's better than sitting all day watching T.V." she'd tease, yeah, that is what she would have said. The ring of the telephone distracted me from my daily wanderings. I sat my scalding coffee cup on the counter and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"You better hurry Nick, the news reporters are already here." I recognized Harvey Fink, my old co-worker's voice, on the other end of the line.

"Alright, alright," I grumbled defeatedly as I rolled on my grey trench coat ", I'll be there."

"Good, oh and Nick,"

"Yeah Fink?"

", it's good to have you back."

I let out a hearty laugh.

", It's good to be back!"

I hung up the phone proudly. I had forgotten how much I used to love my job. I tossed the papers on the counter, I didn't need to read any more of them. Grabbing my grey fedora, I waltzed outside of my small house. The blue sky welcomed me like an old relative. As the birds sang their songs of praise, I hopped into my dark blue Cadillac. It was a brilliant morning as I whistled a tune to the world, letting them know an old hero had risen from the ashes.

As I drove up to the police station, I immediately caught sight of the chaos. A crowd of news reporters stood in the middle of the parking lot. I cursed under my breath as my car came to a slow. I knew it was a minor problem, but I wasn't aware of how huge this situation had blown up. The reporters were antagonizing the few police officers at the front of the building. One of them shouted a cry to the others, alerting the greedy station huggers of my arrival. They charged toward me like a pack of gossip hungry wolves. Camera flashes and frantic inquiries assaulted me from every side of my vehicle.

"Mr. Black, what is the reason for your return?"

"Are you aware of the Chicago murders?"

"What is your opinion about the murders?"

"Where do you stand politically?"

"What have you been doing this whole time?"

"Do you know if the murders are connected in some way?"

I stepped out of my car cautiously, trying to avoid hitting the people with the door. I had gotten used to the publicity in my years of crime solving. I ignored the chaotic noise and nonsensical questions spurting into the clouded air. A balding man wearing a police badge appeared in the sea of people. He stood in front of me, facing the crowd. He waved his arms in an attempt to part the sea of eager people.

"Okay people, move along, this man has had enough questions for today."

A sense of disappointment briefly hung in the air as the group dispersed. They mumbled secret words to each other as they climbed into white bulky news vans and drove off without another word. The authoritative man looked back at me; his green eyes sparked with recognition.