The Darkest Hour | Book 1

Charlie

I winced as the cold water splashed into my face. Damn, that was colder than I expected. Just as well. It got me going better than a cup of coffee. And I needed to be sharp. Today I was going to start my new job, as a detective chief inspector of the homicide unit at North precinct.

I shaved, brushed my teeth and put on my tie. I wanted to make a good first impression, for as far as that was possible. I put on my long wool coat and took a last peek in the mirror. Flawless. Very Sherlock Holmes. All that was missing was the funny hat.

The number 4 metro line took me to the corner of the street on which the entrance of the precinct was. This made my commute short and easy, giving me time to sleep longer in the mornings. I paused for a moment before I headed inside the building. Its entrance was unremarkable. It could have just as easily been an insurance agency, or maybe an apartment building with a concierge desk. Three steps led to the door. It took considerable effort to push it inward. Zero points for accessibility. I approached the desk and asked for my supervisor. The receptionist gave me directions to her office.

Superintendent Robin Langley was a stern looking woman, I guessed that she was about fifty years old. Her haircut looked practical, short to just below the ears. She looked up as I knocked on the open door.

“Ah, Charlie Greyson I presume?”

I nodded and a friendly smile spread across her face. She invited me in and motioned towards one of the two chairs in front of her desk. I smiled back over the stacks of folders piled onto it. She was obviously a very busy woman. Either that, or she was sloppy. Didn’t they do things digitally here?

“Welcome,” Robin said. “I heard great things about you from your previous superintendent. You’re apparently very sharp and have a stellar solve rate. We’re definitely in need of someone with your talent.”

“I’ll do my best to live up to your expectations,” I said. I knew I could, of course. The solve rate of my previous team wasn’t just good. It was perfect.

“You’re in for a challenge though,” Robin continued. “We had to demote the previous chief inspector of your team. I’m afraid they’re quite salty about it. Especially the two senior investigators. I advise you to lay low in the beginning, ease into it. Hopefully they’ll warm up to you soon. Come, I’ll introduce you to them.”

We walked to the far corner of the open office space. There were four desks. One was empty but for one screen, looking kind of lonely without any accessories.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you a second one later today.”

That was the least of my worries.

Robin cleared her throat.

“Guys,” she said, even though two of the three team members were women, “This is Charlie Greyson, the new chief inspector.”

All that greeted me were blank stares.

“He’ll be taking over starting today. I’ll leave you to get acquainted with each other. Maude, show him around, would you?” And then she sauntered off.

Me and the others were left to stare awkwardly at each other. Maude Saunders, I knew, was one of the senior investigators. She was short, petite and had a black pixy cut. From the looks of it however, she was no less intimidating than her other senior colleague, John McKinney. He was a tall burly man, who scowled at me from under his bushy eyebrows. The third colleague, Cady Lane, seemed to be of a milder disposition. She was the junior of the team. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a low ponytail. She was a bit on the heavier side. She wore loose clothes to try and cover it up, but they only made her look boxy. She expectantly looked in my direction. I swallowed.

“Ehm, hi. I know this may be difficult for you, losing your previous chief. But I’ll try to be—“

“Do you know?” John interrupted. “Because you don’t look like you know much. How old are you, exactly?” He folded his arms and sat down on the edge of his desk. He continued scowling.

“I don’t see how my age factors into this…” I replied, full well knowing that it absolutely did. How many of my type they must have seen passing through? Young lads, fresh out of police college, ‘skipping the line’, so to say. Being put in charge of a team of veteran investigators and trying, and failing, to implement the latest investigative techniques they picked up before even stepping a foot into an actual police precinct. I was going to be different, of course, but they didn’t know that yet.

“I’m twenty-seven”, I said as confidently as I could muster under their scrutiny.

John gave a nod in Maude’s direction, as if to say ‘I told you so’. I had two choices. I could either try to command respect by my rank, or I could let it go and ‘lay low’, as the superintendent had suggested. Either way it was going to be difficult. I chose the latter option, as it would cause the least damage in the short run. I’d have to use my skills and resilience to win them over eventually.

“What are you working on?” I asked nobody in particular. Maude reacted by taking a stack of folders from her desk and depositing them on mine. Again, with the folders!

“These are for getting up to speed. There are more.” Then she turned to John, mumbled something to him and they took their coats and left. I sank down into my office chair and picked up the first folder. Witness interviews. Great, I could discover what happened to the victim one testimony at a time. From the corner of my eye, I could see Cady approaching my desk.

“If I may…” she flipped through the stack of folders and picked up one about halfway through the pile.

“This is the forensic evidence report. The victim is a woman in her early thirties, alone at home, found on the floor by her husband. The door was open, and she had two stab wounds to her chest.”

I smiled gratefully and buried my head in the evidence, where it stayed for the next few hours. John and Maude had come back and left for the day, along with Cady, before I finished skimming all the pages. There were a lot of witness statements. Way too many. A great deal of time was spent talking to every tenant in the building, and the building across the street. The shops, sure, but what did Mr. Smith from 6b have to do with it when the crime scene was on the first floor. The closest circle of the victim had alibis. I decided to quickly flip through them. I didn’t have to look far before something caused me to raise an eyebrow.

There was a metro ticket. I took the corresponding statement out. It was from the husband. He had bought the ticket to go to work around 7 a.m.. He had bought the ticket back at around 6 p.m., arrived at home shortly after and found the front door slightly ajar. Inside he discovered his deceased wife on the floor in the kitchen. When questioned, he immediately produced the metro ticket. I shook my head. I looked at my watch. It was 10 p.m. by now. Night shift. Perfect.