Chapter 11 Familiar Signs

Adrian stepped into the office and quietly closed the door behind him.

The man behind the desk was Detective General Samuel Whitmore.

He had spent thirty years in the police service. Time had left streaks of silver in his hair and fine lines around his eyes, but neither had dulled the quiet authority he carried.

Samuel Whitmore was not a man who needed to raise his voice. His calm presence alone was usually enough to command a room.

The Detective General looked up from the documents spread neatly across his desk.

"Detective Cross."

"Sir."

He gestured towards the chair opposite him.

"Have a seat."

"Thank you, sir."

Adrian lowered himself into the leather chair.

The Detective General removed his reading glasses and set them beside an open file before leaning back.

"How's work?"

"Busy, sir."

A faint smile crossed the older man's face.

"I'd be concerned if it wasn't."

Adrian returned the smile politely.

"Homicide doesn't give us many quiet days."

"No," the Detective General agreed. "It rarely does."

For a moment, the office fell silent.

The Detective General studied Adrian with the calm patience of someone who had spent years reading people before they spoke.

Then he folded his hands on the desk.

"It came to my attention that you're currently handling the Daniel Mercer homicide."

"Yes, sir."

"How is the investigation progressing?"

"We're making progress."

The Detective General nodded.

"Any suspects?"

"Not at the moment."

"But we've uncovered a lead we're currently following."

He chose his words carefully.

The investigation had already become far more complicated than a routine homicide, but this wasn't the moment to discuss assumptions.

The Detective General seemed satisfied with the answer.

Adrian remained quiet.

Silence was often a detective's greatest ally.

The Detective General reached for a single sheet of paper resting near the corner of his desk.

"It also came to my attention," he said calmly,

"that you've submitted a formal request for access to something called the Blue File."

He lifted his eyes to Adrian.

"Why do you need it?"

Adrian met the Detective General's gaze.

"During the course of the investigation, we discovered that Daniel Mercer had been trying to obtain access to the Blue File before his death."

The Detective General said nothing.

Adrian continued.

"That wasn't the only reason for my request."

He paused briefly.

"I came across an older homicide investigation."

"The lead detective in that case was Michael Donovan."

"The investigation followed a different path."

"But it reached the same point."

"The Blue File."

The Detective General remained silent, allowing Adrian to continue.

"Two separate homicide investigations."

"Years apart."

"Both leading to the same restricted file."

Adrian rested his hands on the arms of the chair.

"I don't know what's in the Blue File."

"I don't know whether it's directly connected to Daniel Mercer's death."

"But I know both investigations ended there."

He held the Detective General's gaze.

"As the investigating officer, I have a responsibility to determine whether that connection is relevant."

The room fell quiet.

Finally, Adrian spoke again.

"I'm not chasing rumours, sir."

"I'm following the evidence."

The Detective General neither nodded nor interrupted.

He simply studied Adrian for a long moment, his expression giving nothing away.

The Detective General leaned back in his chair.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he opened the file resting on his desk.

"I've read your service record, Detective Cross."

Adrian remained silent.

"You've been with the department for several years."

"You've worked homicide for most of that time."

"You've solved cases that many officers would have struggled with."

He closed the file.

"Your superiors speak highly of you."

"So do the officers who've worked beside you."

A faint smile touched his face.

"I've also noticed something."

Adrian looked at him.

"You follow procedure."

The smile lingered for only a moment.

"But every now and then..."

"You bend the rules."

"Never enough to break the law."

"Just enough to get the job done."

Adrian offered no defence.

He knew the observation was fair.

The Detective General's expression became serious again.

"I've been in this profession for thirty years."

"I've seen good detectives build remarkable careers."

"I've also seen capable officers lose everything because they refused to walk away from the wrong investigation."

He held Adrian's gaze.

"You're one of the best detectives in this department."

"I'd like to keep you here."

The office fell silent.

When the Detective General spoke again, his voice was quieter.

"Whatever you're looking for..."

"It isn't worth your badge."

"I know where this request leads."

He paused.

"If I were you..."

"I'd stop here."

Adrian met his eyes without hesitation.

"With respect, sir..."

Adrian paused.

"Is there a reason you want me to stop the investigation?"

"I'm only following the evidence."

He didn't answer.

Instead, he studied Adrian for a long moment.

Then he gave a slow, resigned nod.

It was clear the conversation had changed nothing.

Without another word, he opened the top drawer of his desk and removed a sealed envelope.

He reached across the desk and held it out.

"This arrived not long ago."

Adrian accepted the envelope.

The seal of the Annual Community Trust Foundation was stamped neatly across the front.

He unfolded the letter inside and read it carefully.

His request for access to the Blue File had been denied.

His eyes drifted to the date.

It had been processed that same afternoon.

A slight frown crossed his face.

Victor Hayes had told him requests for access to the Blue File usually took several days to review.

Sometimes they weren't approved at all.

So why had his been processed within hours?

The question lingered in his mind as he folded the letter.

The Detective General extended his hand.

Adrian reached across the desk and shook it.

As their hands met, his eyes settled briefly on the watch beneath the Detective General's shirt cuff.

It was a silver wristwatch with a brushed steel case and a simple black watch face.

Adrian frowned.

Something about the watch felt familiar.

He searched his memory, trying to place it.

Detectives couldn't afford assumptions.

They dealt in certainty.

His eyes returned to the watch.

No.

He had seen it before.