How to Kill a Man in Thirty Seconds

Chapter 50: The Professionals

"So, you're saying," Detective Kimberly murmured after much thought, "It's impossible for seeds of Atropa Belladonna to grow into healthy plants under the environmental conditions in Mary's house?"

I nodded intently, "Which means someone else has to have placed those pots there before calling the cops."

The detective turned confused eyes to me, "But what do you expect me to do about it?"

I blinked twice, as did Adrian. "Reopen the case," we answered in unison.

Kimberly's eyes shut, and she rubbed her temples with the tips of her index finger and thumb, as if her head throbbed, "Charley, I don't know if you realize this, but I worked on this case for four years. My entire team worked our fingers to the bone. The killer confessed; a court ruling was passed. End of story. I am not about to reopen it because of some yellowed leaves."

"But-"

"No more," she cried, "I have hundreds of other cases to work on, all innocent victims just like your father, with families hungry for justice just like yours. My time on this is up. I'm sorry, Charley."

My mouth opened and shut; I swallowed. Adrian interjected, "Could we at least see the security footage?"

"No."

"I'm begging you," I pleaded, "If what you say is right, and there is nothing in that video but someone's boring backyard, what difference does it make to you? And I promise, when I see nothing, I will stop searching once and for all. Just let me see it. Please."

Kimberly stared at me for a long time, jaw clenched.

"It's a long tape," she finally said with a sigh, "You have one hour."

"Do you really mean to keep to your promise?" Adrian asked once the detective had left, leaving us alone.

I couldn't offer him a reply. I played the video instead.

Silence fell as we observed, desperate and impatient. The camera overlooking the front door displayed the porch and the garden we had passed earlier, while the backyard was empty but for a single lonely tree that stood by the side. Occasionally, it's leaves would rustle from the light breeze, but apart from that, there was pin drop silence and no movement.

The seconds dragged by.

Adrian pressed a key, playing the video four times faster. Still nothing.

Seconds turned to torturous minutes of frustration and dismay. When I glanced at the clock again, a half hour had passed. My heart sped up in my chest. I accelerated the video. I had been leaning forward the entire time and my spine was beginning to throb, my eyes watering; I was barely blinking for fear I would miss something.

"Nothing's happening," I murmured.

"Patience, Charley. Patience," Adrian murmured, his eyes glued to the screen. Not a muscle in his body moved.

It was then that something did occur. A sliver of grey shot past the front garden, just a few millimeters in width, so small and so fast I nearly missed it in the blink of an eye. My heart squeezed in my chest.

"Stop," Adrian cried, and I hit pause, rewinding the tape to just a second prior.

It was a shadow.

We watched intently as the miniscule, twig-shaped shadow of something appeared from one corner and disappeared just a split second later.

A sigh escaped my lips just as Adrian leaned back, groaning in disappointment.