Every line of work starts the day the same; the scent of cheap coffee combatting the musky air of the office. While the bitter taste coating the tongue in heat is refreshing to most, it only served to frustrate the pair of detectives. This did not speak for the coffee’s quality; most things would irritate the two. Their constricting shoes, the flickering lightbulb, the mountain of loose ends surrounding the insistently ‘closed’ case. While their office was not the ideal setting for an investigation, having previously been a faxing warehouse, it was suitable enough to sprawl all the information they had against the walls and desks. Given, they didn’t have much information.
“I wasn’t exactly expecting novels, but you’d think the murder of a lawyer would bring a few more headlines,” grumbled the taller detective, dawning a tattered trench coat and large busheled beard while flipping through archives of newspapers.
“Well, considering the supposed murderer was a deli cashier,” snarked the detective dawning a tan fedora and brown trench coat standing at the window, “I guess it evened it out.”
“I’ll have you know my brother James was a very respected member of the community, Carl” rebutted the taller man with slight amusement, setting down the archives in favor of inspecting the murder weapon, “the only thing he’s guilty of is donating to those in need at the expense of his own meals.”
“Fair enough,” mused Carl, taking a seat and opening his computer to schedule meet up times with potential witnesses, “I’ll admit, my brother wasn’t a fantastic lawyer, but I seriously doubt he’d mess up bad enough to drive the peaceful James Kester to murder. Whoever he did piss off so bad is still out there-”
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“While my brother is taking their spot in jail.”
The atmosphere in the previously abandoned office grew thick, abandoning the humorous ribbing from moments ago and replaced it with a gloomy understanding of what’s been lost and what there is to still gain. Carl cautiously approached his partner, who had his fists clenched tightly around the fabric of his coat.
“That’s what’s going to change by the end of this, Tom” Carl reassured him calmly. “If we keep doing what we’re doing, your brother will be free and whatever scum who framed him for my brother’s murder will be behind bars for the rest of his life.” As he was told this, Tom breaths turned from tense to slow and deep, unclenching his fist and resting it on the sputtering air conditioner. “We’ll bring justice to this case, even if…” Carl trailed off letting the unspoken understanding simmer between them.
Even if the chief took our badges.
It had happened so suddenly after they showed him a few logical flaws in the case summary. How he had gone from a casual “It’s a simple overlook, Carl. Don’t worry about it.” to a shouting “If you two so much as even look at this case again you are DONE. It’s been almost a year, it’s time to accept reality and move on!” was nearly scary in its turn, with the threat still ringing in his ears. It’s comforting to believe they had left on their own terms, that they chose justice over their well paying and consistently well lit and air conditioned job, but the process was filled with uncertainty. It was clear that Tom was able to write him off as a bastard and immediately turn to this new method of investigation, but a lingering feeling was still within Carl that he was too scared to look at, for fear at what he would find within it.
Tom was the first to break the silence with a grunt as he placed a hand on Carl’s shoulder. The two met eyes, and the message was clear; they only had each other if they wanted to find the truth, and neither would give up on the other. With that, the pair returned to their evidence to piece the case together.