Confused
Rain slithers through the cracks on the pavement. Fog pressed low against the street.
An uneventful start to the day in Manchester.
The detective stood under the bus stop shelter, collar up, moist cigarette pinched between his lips. He chose now to light it. Bad timing had always been his speciality.
“Walter Synclair, I presume.”
The voice cut through the rain cleanly. London sharp with a whiff of enthusiasm.
The gentleman stood beside Walter, close enough to seem together, in a brown designer trench coat. Probably still Zavetti, Walter thought.
It’s damp, rumpled, and looks like it’s been dragged across the wrong side of town.
“You were the indian detective who cracked the elusive case last week”. The man smiled faintly. “I’d tip my hat if I had one. Maybe I can borrow yours”.
No one laughed.
Walter didn’t return the smile. His cigarette had died out, now hanging crooked from his mouth.
“Appreciate it…” His voice came out slow, dragged, with the least amount of effort required.
“...you don’t have to remind me I’m indian but can you remind me of the name again?” Walter engaged.
His gaze landed back on the duffel bag.
“...and what’s in it?”
The man tightened his grip on the bag, already stepping away. Too casual. Too rehearsed.
“Oh Me?!... Just a delivery guy”, waving him off. “Got an address mixed up, that’s all”.
The fog swallowed him as he walked through the rain, the duffel bag balanced over his head.
Walter stayed put, his gaze still fixed on the gent.
The cigar finally slipped from his lips after he attempted to relight it. “Trying to quit anyway”, wanting to comfort himself.
He tests whether the rain has subsided, but the test ends up a test of endurance.
Blazer on head, Dunkin’ Donut box in hand, Joints stretched, Walter looks both ways, then jaywalks across the street.
It’s a bland sight at the entrance of the station.
Cracks on the sidewalk, algae growing on brick walls where graffiti hadn’t already taken, fading colours on windows, bulbs flickering, and rusted metal parts everywhere. Not condemned. Just neglected.
“Bloody Hell!...” Walter exclaimed without a second thought as he tripped on a crack.
“Screw me! Of course, I would trip on one of the few cracks on this goddamned sidewalk, it’s not like it’s leading to an even more godforsaken building”, he added.
“What’s the problem, love?” came a voice. It was Doris, an older nurse who had just finished her night shift.
Walter, using the little warmth left in his cold heart, musters up the kindness to respond, “Doris… It’s nothing really, I was just pissed after taking a trip”.
Doris couldn’t help but reminisce about the good old days, “Oh, I remember when they remodelled the station and this sidewalk…feels like just yesterday”.
“Hopefully the next one will come tomorrow”, he joked, managing to get a giggle out of her before she left. Something about the sound lingered longer than it should have.
Soon after, a disappointed sigh leaked out of his mouth, as if his day was about to get worse.
Walter quickly glides through the station to his desk, though not forgetting to give his daily half-arsed greeting to those resuming.
Each handcrafted that you’d think he cared for them.
On the other side of the coin.
Jynn spotted Doris before she spotted him.
“Miss Remmy! Our night shift warrior!” he called, already jogging towards her supposedly with a sun behind him.
She was negotiating with the taxi that she had just called, probably not hearing him.
“Let me”, said Jynn, while he threw open the door, offering his arm gallantly to guide her in.
Doris was surely not going to fall for such flattery.
“Oh, Jynn”, she laughed, letting him lead her in. “I’m not even done bargaining with this nice gentleman”.
“Don’t bother… from this day forward, your rides are on me. I can’t have you hassling in the rain, can I?” he grinned.
Doris, knowing he won’t back down, accepted his grand gesture. “And… what are you doing jogging under this poor weather?”
“Cardio waits for no man, Miss Remmy”, he joked.
This time, someone laughed.
He tapped the roof twice, waved goodbye, and stood there for a second. Rare moment.
Soon after, he laid eyes on the station.
He tilted his head and sighed, though not one of frustration.
“Could use a facelift,” he muttered. “But so could the rest of us...”.
He adjusted his jacket, rolled his shoulders loose, then took the steps two at a time. Nearly slipped on one of the cracks.
“We should really get this pavement fixed at least...” staring straight at the floor.
“If someone fell, it would be a whole other lawsuit”, he said as if it were its fault for the first one.
Inside, he took a deep breath, probably to hold it as he passed all the smokers.
He, though, didn’t forget to reprimand criminals who were in the cells before heading to the locker room to prep for debriefing.
But on his way, he met his friend holding a half-eaten doughnut in his mouth and another one on top of a light pile of documents.
“Walter Synclair…” he called
“He’s sweating already before 8 AM?” thought Walter, who wouldn’t dream of waking up before 9, if not for his job.
“But I guess not everybody can be Constable Williams”, he muttered in a passable impression.
“That doughnut in your mouth better not be mine”, Jynn exclaimed loud enough to guilt-trip Walter.
“I wouldn’t dream of it”, Walter lies.
As they walked to the meeting room, Jamal couldn’t help but stare at Walter, who was...
Chewing gum? Before 8 AM
If it ended up under a desk, Jynn would personally file the arrest.
“...He probably needs it. He’s presenting, and Tiffany’s running late...”, he tried to reason.
It was already half full when Walter pushed through the door, which meant he was late by Jynn’s standards.
Sitting in the briefing room, he riffled through the folder he carried, basically scrolling through the pages.
“Walter!...” called out John Mark, the DCI, “It seems that you’re rushing through something. I hope it isn’t the case that you’re presenting now”.
“Of course not…” as he quickly shut the folder, taking a good look at himself before he got mocked.
But as his eyes lingered, they stopped at the empty seat beside him, and at that moment, he felt a bit disappointed- not worried.
The empty seat was louder than whatever the DCI was saying, with Jynn nudging Walter to take the stage. Though he, too, was worried about Tiffany.
He knows the dangers a young lady faces all alone.
“Knowing her, she’s probably taking the scenic route as she always does,” he reasoned.
Though he’d taken that route himself. Hadn’t seen her.
Midway Walter’s surprisingly in-depth analysis. The door swings wide open, but is caught before it hits the wall.
It’s Tiffany to Jynn’s relief.
He finally eases his body, calling her to sit by him, so they can watch the show.
“I can’t believe he could talk about a case this long and not mix up the details… even JM is shocked”, Jynn relayed, trying to make small talk.
“Oh yeah..” trying to engage with him, but clearly spaced out.
“That was a good one, DI Sinclair, I’ll be waiting for a follow-up”, John Mark said, already turning away.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” he said as he took his seat, but without looking up.
“I was just chatting with Tiffany, “ then turning to her “,...But I don’t know, you alright?”
Walter, now intrigued.
“Tiffany, you alright?” his face squeezed every ounce of concern he had left.
“Yeah, I’m alright… just ran into some trouble with my car on my way here”. The words came out with their level of concern.
“If there’s still a hiccup, I think I can take a look at it”, Jynn said, pouncing on an opportunity to lend a hand.
“No thanks, I think I’ll let a professional look at it”, she denied the offer, with this not being the first.
The brushing sounds finally caught Walter’s attention.
“Here… for your hand,” he offered, the handkerchief catching Jynn off guard more than the gesture itself.
“Did you scratch it from holding the door earlier, or was it because you were fighting the technician over dominion on who should fix your car?” he said in one breath.
Tiffany scoffed, took Walter’s folder, and headed for the door without saying a word.
“You have a way with women, Walter,” Jynn quipped.
Walter rolled his eyes at Jynn’s poor attempt at sarcasm.
“Anyways… the meeting isn’t even finished yet, don’t you think the DCI is gonna be pissed that she left like that?
Jynn turned him down. The next part was for them, only.
“He probably wants to press me because of the superiors”, Walter exhaled. He missed the window to escape, just as Tiffany and half the room already had.
Jynn then patted Walter’s back as he stood up.
“I guess that’s my cue…” he said, bidding farewell to Walter before he went for his briefing.
“People have gotten used to you, haven’t they? The DCI didn’t even complain like in the past. But it’s expected because you’ve been coming ever since I became DI,” Walter paused.
“I appreciate it, really”, he admitted.
Jynn, already passed the door frame, just waved through the window without even turning his head, giving Walter a taste of his own medicine.
Walter just sighed and sat down. “He’s picking up my habits too fast”, he thought to himself.
Enthroned on Walter’s seat, Tiffany studies his notes while Walter approaches the door, obviously drained.
“I guess someone like him can deliver when it matters, but these notes are something else…”
Before she could finish her thoughts, Walter spun the chair around.
“Fascinated by my work? Do well to share your thoughts after you get up”, he demanded.
“There’s nothing special here, don’t let your head swell.” Tiffany watered him down as she slowly left his seat.
“I wasn’t even reading it, I was just glancing through for spelling errors,” she affirmed.
Making a deep dent in the seat, Walter balanced, mimicking Tiffany.
“I don’t think that’s an appropriate way to speak to your senior, DC Andrews…”
Walter shot back.
Eagerly, then an elderly man rushes into the room and aggressively drops his bag beside Walter’s desk.
“Walter… I mean, DI Synclair, I need a recap of what went on in that room.”
He said like a request turned command
“There was a hiccup getting up from bed today, and I assure you it won’t happen again…” He continued in one breath.
“Good morning, DS James, it’s nice that you’ve joined us this morning — Oh, how I’m doing, not too bad, but it could always be better”
Walter went on, without looking up.
And James decided to breathe, finally.
“I guess it went well since you’re so chatty this morning…” James uttered, looked next at Tiffany.
“Sorry, love, I hit the snooze button this morning. We’ll have to make it up with break time,” he said, patting her hand.
“We… Sir James, I clocked in when we were meant to, so my break is intact. I’m reserving it for my video call with my wife,” said a voice from the cubicle beside.
The atmosphere was becoming too congested to go unnoticed.
Walter was fed up that his cubicle was being used as a meeting place for his subordinates.
“I think it’s time we resume formally, shall we?” he said while fetching something from his drawer.
“Here…” he handed to James. “This is the update on what you submitted yesterday, and the details about the interview.”
James snatched the folder and opened it like a child on Christmas Day, but one who was disappointed.
“It’s still about that family… I was expecting him to screw up something here, but I guess if this report is intact, Tiffany wasn’t lying about his presentation …” James thought to himself.
“I’ll refresh HOLMES 2 to see if there are any updates”, he mumbled aloud.
Walter, sensing his tone, quickly and flamboyantly dismissed him.
“I believe you can handle the DI’s. I’ll be leaving soon for the forensic lab since they aren’t picking up your calls anymore,” Walter said, already looking for his coat.
“Also, I would suggest using a physical clock next time; it’s hard to snooze, and it’s easier to use for someone like you”, he continued.
“Hells Bells… Did you hear that rhyme? Call me Dr Seuss…” Walter joked.
“Pretty banging, I might say, sir”, said a loud voice from the back.
“Thank you, Bob! Keep up like that, and we might finally retire this geezer,” Walter shouted back.
James’ face already looked steamed, and it was about to pop.
“Ignore him, Sir… It’s just light teasing,” Tiffany soothed.
Later, Walter’s phone later rang midway through as he glanced through the forensic report.
“...What does Jynn want now? It’s barely quarter past 9. Does he want to reschedule lunch? Again…”, He thought while searching for his phone.
He finally picked up the phone on the third ring.
“Walter, I need you to come to the address I just sent ASAP” — Jynn.
“I hope it’s not a surprise…” — Walter.
“Bro, it’s actually serious this time, the crime scene here is a damn mess” — Jynn.
“What is it this time, another gang incident…” — Walter.
“No. Murder” — Jynn.
“...” — Walter.
“Hello? You there?” — Jynn.
“I’ve checked the address, I’ll be on my way ASAP” — Walter.
“Bloody hell, this city is going through shit,” Walter sighed while driving 70 in a 40
Walter arrived, shocked at the scene.
A couple of cop cars block the entry points to the back street.
A single police tape holds the crime scene together as Walter tries to duck under.
“It would be hell trying to interview these addicts,” he says, referring to the hobos an officer is desperately trying to get names from
“What the hell are you doing here, Walter? I saw you finding a spot, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt that you won’t show up,” the duty detective scolds Walter, but he couldn’t help but roll his eyes.
“You should thank the officer behind you, okay? I came by his directive; he probably wasn’t able to reach you on time,” he shot back.
“Jynn caught the call after the first ring. It isn’t my fault,” the duty detective tried to defend himself.
“Have you seen the paramedics yet?” Jynn asked Walter, glossing over the duty detective
“I saw them pulling out the trolley when I parked… Also, next time, wait till I pick up, I don’t want JM to be on my neck about not doing my job,” The duty detective asserted.
“Oh, thanks mate, and don’t worry, it won’t happen again,” Jynn backpedalled
“But has anyone seen the body?” Walter asked
Suddenly, Jynn’s tone shifted.
“I think it’s ok if you… guys, see it now,” he muttered
“I don’t think you should touch it, considering the fact you’re not wearing gloves,” The duty detective said, warning Walter.
“He should be fine as long as he isn’t directly touching the body”, Jynn defended.
“Is it working yet?” Jynn whispered closely to Walter
“Can you give me some space, Officer Jynn?” Walter pushed.
“It takes a minute”, he whispered back
Then it hit him, a million voices at once, but nothing stood out
This time it was different, a play he couldn’t rewind…
“Walter? Walter! You good? I had to physically pull you away; people thought you’d gone and passed out. So what did you see?”
But for the first time, Walter couldn’t respond because…
The Detective was Confused…
