Home only felt lonely, outside was full of colour, people laughing with friends, and making their fondest memories. He wanted to call his friends, yet he was on a case. People needed to see justice. He walked to his bed, and slumped onto it, into a blissful oblivion.
In the morning, he wore his yesterday’s clothing. He went outside after eating yogurt with cereal, it was a breakfast that he ate for the previous four years. He left the condo and headed towards the office. This time around, he headed in the opposite direction, where there were mansions and skyscrapers. The roads were full of rich people, yet there were also many who were poor. However, there wasn’t much contrast between the two types of people, as the poor wore their best clothing to fit in.
Shockingly to tourists, there weren’t any beggars in streets or alleys. The government here had the cops force out the poor, to not scare away tourists. Their response was accurate and had lots of logic, yet it was disgusting.
His office had three floors, tiny compared to the skyscrapers. The style was also old since it was built before the mass reconstruction. However, no one dared to tore it down, as it was as majestic as any of its counterparts. It was built with brick, the designer used the colouring of bricks skillfully to highlight its depth. Additionally, it had a small clock tower above the main entrance, giving it a final touch.
He headed towards the parking lot that was on the left side of the office. When he bypassed the security with his ID, stood a man like the one at the murder scene parking lot, who led him to an empty parking lot. Then, the man as well guided with gestures into the lot.
He got off the car, and paid the man money, as it was the man’s job. He wasn’t much different from a beggar, or a child who sold napkins. He needed money and earnt it with desperate measures. Probably, he may not even be officially working here. He, however, did not feel cheated, as they were natives, and he never minds giving a helping hand.
He pushed through the doors, and cool winds of air condition breezed at him. He nodded to the security guard and walked to the modern elevator and waited for its arrival. He heard a ding, and the elevator to the right opened. He walked in the vertical moving box and signaled it to go to the third floor.
He heard a ding and walked out to see men and women walking in suits. He went unnoticed within the highway like hall and headed to his destination. He came here to see his boss, as the man who came to his home told him that the boss needed to have a word with him.
Arriving at the boss’s office, he knocked on the door. He hadn’t waited for a reply for long, as like the ding in the elevator, the response came instantly. A hoarse voice with power said on the side of the door, “Come in.” He pushed the door open, and entered the clean-cut office, with a desk at the back, and papers stacked on top. There also was a bookshelf that was against a wall, with hundreds of books.
A man sat on a chair across the desk. He looked ancient, with wrinkles on his face, arms, and legs as skinny as twigs. He, however, did not dare look down at this man, his boss. The man had a scary history of being in prison, and once corrupted.
“Harry, how’s the case going?”
“Good sir, I had already found some good leads.”
“Good, good. You found any possible suspects?”
“Not that type, but the lead my reveal the murderer.”
“Good for you. Now I hadn’t called you for the murder case, instead, I wanted you to come with me to a meeting of politicians, as I need a helping hand. Would you mind accepting the offer?” Harry knew his boss wasn’t asking, but commanding, so he nodded in acceptance. The boss then asked what the lead was, and Rick told him they were balloons. After a couple of more questions, they shook hands. Rick fair welled, “See you tomorrow sir.”
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Business in the office was yet to be over, he still needed to check up on Rosa to see her progress in gathering all the things connected leads to the balloons. He felt he was going around a loop after meeting his boss. Something didn’t sit right. Why did his boss choose him out of all his men? Rick knew the boss had many more men under him whom he trusted a lot more. Unfortunately, he would have to see what would be waiting for him at the meeting of politicians.
He went to the second floor and headed to the Forensic Identification department. The department work was finding evidence to either support current lawsuits or to open new ones. Harry hoped today would be for the later.
He arrived at the department and asked the receptionist that he was here to see Rosa. She nodded and told him Rosa should be in room 206. He thanked her for the help and headed toward the pointed direction.
He hadn’t need to knock on the door, as he saw that the door was wide open. When he entered, Rick saw the room that was unlike his boss’s. People here worked hands-on, instead of doing paperwork. He watched as people were zapping around the room, holding tools, and using them skillfully. The sight was admirable, as their efficiency made them the most productive workers, a title that was well deserved.
Rose stood alone at one of the tables, she held a book and looked at the computer intently. He tapped on her left shoulder, and she shook out of fright and turned towards him. We started small talk, however as time passed, the more professional our conversation became. Towards the end, she started telling him how she bundled up all the connected items and people to the balloons. Then told him one last piece of news.
Apparently, she found out that the balloons were pumped at the arena with a helium gas tank. Hearing the news hadn’t really excited him. Instead, what she told him after gave him the shivers. The tanks that were used for the balloons were never found. This revelation meant that if the balloons were an important tool for the murderer, then the gas tanks must be had been like poison dripped into a cup of tea: the cause of the cause. After he summarised everything she told him, he thanked Rose for her hard work and headed to the murder scene once again.
He parked his car, and this time around he didn’t head to the murdered scene directly. Instead, he needed to find out who took the gas tank. When he finds that person, he would move to the next step of the case.
The murder scene was surrounded by stores. He knew that all the stores here in the ghetto all had cameras set up, to have people think twice before they do anything. With so many cameras, he needed one of them to reveal the person who took the gas tank.
The first store he would check out will be a gas station, as he knew there would be a good chance that they would have a surveillance and hand it over to him. He parked close to the store and entered through the front doors.
Rick saw soft drinks, gums, and candy on the passing shelves. At the right end of the entrance, he saw a cashier behind a desk. She looked at him when he entered through the doors and greeted him.
He hadn’t need to take out his Detective ID to gain permission for the cameras, instead, he asked if Old Man Joe is here, the owner of the establishment. The girl nodded at his question and told him she will get him. In a minute, an old man with a thick beard walked through the door behind the counter. He smiled when he saw Rick, and Rick smiled back naturally.
“Rick, it’s good to see you.” Old man Joe took the cashier girl by the shoulder and told her proudly how he and Rick relationship went as far as back when Rick was just a babe. After bit more small talk, Old Man Joe went straight to business, “So, Rick, I am guessing you are here about the murdered."
Rick noticed at how Old Man Joe tone was full of sorrow, and he was aware of why, “I am, when I looked at the names of the murdered, I recognized that a couple of them were your classmates.”
Saying the word classmates hit Rick hard. In Baku, classmates weren’t just your friends. No, they were your brothers and sisters in arms. Unlike other countries, classmates would be together from kindergarten to eleventh grade. In return, they would trust each other backs and always stick together. Old Man Joe’s classmates dying must have been hard for him.
Rick told him his condolences and said, “I actually came to see you on a matter that is related to the murdered.” There was no surprise on the old man face as he knew that Rick was a detective.
Furthermore, Old Man Joe needn’t be told what needed to be done. “Rick, come with me to the backroom." Rick did as the old man said, as he knew he was about to be shown the camera history.