Chapter 9 The First Detective

Adrian stared at Henry for several seconds.

He never expected the answer.

Finally, he spoke.

"Then who was?"

Henry didn't answer.

He remained seated, his eyes fixed on the coffee growing cold in his hands.

The silence lingered between them. Adrian said nothing. He had learned long ago that forcing an answer rarely produced the truth. If Henry Lawson was going to speak, it would be in his own time.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than before.

"I hoped I'd never have to tell this story again."

He set the mug gently on the coffee table and rose from his chair.

Without another word, he walked across the room to an old wooden cabinet standing against the wall.

He reached into his pocket, removed a small brass key and unlocked the top drawer.

The drawer opened with a faint creak.

Inside were several neatly arranged folders and ageing case files.

Henry ignored the newer ones.

Instead, he reached towards the back of the drawer and carefully pulled out a worn brown file.

Its edges were frayed.

The cover had faded with age.

Years of handling had softened the cardboard until it bent easily in his hands.

He carried it back to the living room.

For a moment, he simply looked at it.

Then he placed it carefully on the coffee table between them.

His hand remained resting on the cover.

Adrian noticed there was no case number written on the front.

Only a name.

Henry followed Adrian's eyes but made no attempt to move his hand.

"I've kept this longer than I should have," Henry said quietly.

His fingers rested on the worn cover.

"For years, I told myself I'd throw it away."

He gave a faint shake of his head.

"I never could."

Adrian remained silent.

Henry looked down at the file.

"My partner opened this investigation."

His voice was steady, but the weight behind it was unmistakable.

"He was more than my partner."

"He was my closest friend."

A long silence followed.

"When he died..."

Henry stopped himself.

He drew a slow breath before continuing.

"I locked this file away."

His eyes met Adrian's.

"I promised myself I'd never open it again."

He looked down at the worn cover one last time.

"I just never expected someone else to come looking for the same answers."

Henry slowly lifted his hand from the file.

"This..."

He looked directly at Adrian.

"is where it all began."

Henry kept his hand resting on the worn file.

For several moments, neither of them spoke.

When he finally broke the silence, he didn't look at Adrian.

He looked at the faded cover beneath his hand.

"His name was Michael Donovan."

Adrian remained quiet.

"He was the lead detective."

Henry gave a faint smile.

"And my best friend."

"We worked together for almost eight years."

"He taught me more about homicide than the police academy ever could."

The smile slowly disappeared.

"It began with what everyone believed was an ordinary murder."

Henry opened the file.

The pages had yellowed with age.

"He followed every lead."

"One witness led to another."

"One document led to another."

"Eventually, the investigation reached Halcyon Financial."

He turned another page.

"From there, it led to the Annual Community Trust Foundation."

Adrian listened carefully.

"That was the first time either of us heard about the Blue File."

Henry nodded to himself.

"Michael believed it contained the answers he was looking for."

"He tried everything he legally could to obtain access."

"Every request was denied."

"He never got past that door."

Henry fell silent.

His fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the file.

"The night before he died, he called me."

Adrian looked up.

"He sounded excited."

"It was the first time in weeks I'd heard hope in his voice."

"I asked him what had happened."

Henry looked away for a moment.

"He said he'd finally found something."

"I told him to tell me over the phone."

"He refused."

"He said..."

Henry drew a slow breath.

"'I'll explain everything tomorrow. You'll want to see this for yourself.'"

The room grew quiet.

"That was the last time I heard his voice."

Henry slowly closed the file.

"The following afternoon, I was told he'd been killed in a traffic accident."

"The investigation concluded it was exactly that."

"An accident."

He looked directly at Adrian.

"I read every report."

"I read every witness statement."

"I read the forensic findings."

"They all reached the same conclusion."

He paused.

"I never did."

Henry rested his hand on the file once more.

"After Michael's funeral, the department closed his investigation."

"Everyone moved on."

"I couldn't."

"So I picked up where he left off."

He met Adrian's eyes.

"And that's when the investigation became mine."

Henry leaned back in his chair.

"After Michael died, I inherited everything he left behind."

He rested a hand on the worn file.

"His notes."

"His interviews."

"His reports."

"I started from the beginning."

"I retraced every step."

"I spoke to the same witnesses."

"I followed every financial lead."

"I thought I'd find the one thing he had overlooked."

He gave a faint shake of his head.

"I didn't."

"I reached the same conclusion."

"The trail always led to Halcyon Financial."

"Then to the Annual Community Trust Foundation."

"And finally..."

"The Blue File."

Henry lowered his eyes.

"I applied for access."

"My request was denied."

"I tried again."

"The answer didn't change."

"Every road ended there."

He was silent for a moment.

"Then the investigation stopped being about the case."

"It became about me."

"My reports were questioned."

"My decisions were challenged."

"I was told I was wasting departmental resources."

A humourless smile crossed his face.

"Then came the pressure."

"I was given a choice."

"Accept early retirement..."

"Or face an internal investigation."

Adrian frowned.

"Did they ever tell you what you'd done wrong?"

Henry slowly shook his head.

"No."

"They didn't have to."

He looked Adrian in the eye.

"They knew exactly what they were doing."

Another silence settled over the room.

Henry's voice was calm.

"That's why I told you to walk away."

"I've already seen what happens to detectives who refuse."

Adrian remained silent for a long moment.

Then he looked at Henry.

"Do you think whoever killed Michael was also behind your retirement?"

Henry didn't answer immediately.

He stared into his empty coffee mug before slowly raising his eyes.

"I've had years to think about that question."

He paused.

"I can't prove it."

"But I don't believe everything that happened to me was a coincidence."

Adrian waited.

Henry's expression hardened.

"I think someone inside the police had a hand in it."