The Silent Reporter (A Police Procedural Mystery Series of Crime and Suspense, Hyder Ali #1)

by Thomas Fincham

  He was excited. He had a plan, and it was a brilliant plan if you asked him.

  He would go down to his car, take a sip or two to control his nerves and he would return and close the file before the day was over. He had never closed a file in less than a day before, but he was certain he could do so now. All he needed was a boost from the stash in his car and he would have the energy to complete his goal.

  He left the washroom.

  He was heading for the elevator when he saw a man and a woman standing by the main entrance. They were talking to an officer. The officer pointed in his direction.

  Nolan froze.

  The couple approached him.

  “Detective Nolan,” the female said. “I’m Jessica Freeland and this is my friend, Hyder Ali.”

  “Ok, yes, hi,” Nolan said.

  “I know you are working on my dad’s case,” Jessica said. “And we were hoping to talk to you about it.”

  “Now?” Nolan said. God I need a drink, he thought.

  “Yes, please.”

  “I’m actually very busy,” Nolan lied. His found his vision was blurring. Under the dark shades, which he still refused to take off, he was glad they couldn’t tell he was seeing double.

  “We won’t take long,” Jessica replied. “Please, I’ve been trying to speak to you ever since my father was found dead.”

  Nolan had a feeling they wouldn’t leave until they had spoken to him.

  He finally nodded. “Okay, sure. Please come with me.”

  He escorted them to an interview room.

  He gave them a feeble smile. “Have a seat and let me get the file,” he said.

  He shut the door behind him and took a deep breath.

  He rushed back to the washroom, turned on the taps, and splashed cold water over his face. With the shades no longer hiding his eyes, he saw that they looked glossy and distant.

  He rubbed water on his eyeballs and covered them with the shades.

  He grabbed the file and returned to the room.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, taking a seat. He placed the file before him. “First, let me extend my deepest condolences about the loss of your loved one.” Nolan had spoken to the next of kin of so many victims that he was now well versed in the phrase. This was never done insincerely. He meant every word of it, and he wanted to do everything to provide some form of closure to them.

  “Thank you,” Jessica said. She and Hyder sat opposite Nolan.

  “So, what would you like to tell me about your father?” Nolan said.

  “We feel that he was murdered,” Jessica replied.

  Nolan paused. “You believe this or you know this for a fact?”

  Jessica looked over at Hyder. “We believe it and we know it.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay, I’m listening.”

  Both Hyder and Jessica proceeded to lay out what they knew so far. They mentioned Freeland’s behavior days before his death. They mentioned the missing diary, the bottle of anti-depressants and why Freeland never took such medication. They finished by telling Nolan that someone was following Jessica.

  Nolan listened attentively. At times his mind wandered off but he willed himself to focus. He finally said, “I know how difficult this must have been for you, to lose your father in such a way, but nothing you have told me proves that he was murdered.”

  “He was!” Jessica said, raising her voice.

  “Okay, what was the motive for his death?” Nolan asked.

  “We don’t know,” Hyder replied.

  “What about the murder weapon?” Nolan leaned forward. “There was none, I’m afraid. If there was a knife then we would have something to work with, blood stains, maybe. What about a gun? If there were shots fired, then we could use ballistics to match them to the weapon. In this we had a noose.” He paused to let this information sink in. “Also, we found a suicide note.”

  He opened the file and pulled out a sheet of paper. He slid it across to Jessica.

  She read without touching it, looked up at Hyder. Her eyes were moist. He pulled the sheet closer and read it himself.

  “I’m sorry,” Nolan said. It was never easy for the victim’s family. None of the answers they ever received were satisfactory. If someone was murdered, then they wanted to find out who did it and why. When someone committed suicide, they wanted to find out if there wasn’t someone else who pushed them to do it.

  “It’s just not possible,” Jessica said, still not believing it. “My dad would have never killed himself.”

  “Is that his signature?” Nolan asked, pointing to the blue scribble at the bottom of the page.

  She examined it. “I think so.”

  “Then we will assume it is.”

  She got up. “I have to go.”

  Nolan stood up too. “Again, I’m sorry.”

  She left the room.

  Hyder followed after her.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Nolan felt terrible for Jessica Freeland. He wished he could have given her better news. Suddenly, his thirst for alcohol was somehow mitigated. He no longer felt like going and getting a drink.

  He went back to his desk and placed the file before him.

  It was now or never, he thought. If he didn’t start work on the file right this minute he may never close it.

  Nolan desperately wanted to be done with it and move on.

  He flipped through it and quickly realized that pages were missing.

  “What the hell?” he muttered. Where was the coroner’s report? Even though it was a suicide, the coroner had to examine the body and verify that it was so.

  He grabbed the file and left the division.

  The coroner’s office was only two blocks away, so Nolan decided to walk. He figured it would do him some good.

  Nolan was fully aware the lifestyle he had chosen now was not conducive to good health. He didn’t care, or maybe he didn’t have anything to care for. Regardless, it was taking a toll on him. The walk, which wouldn’t have taken him long before, was now becoming tiresome.

  When he reached the granite building, he found himself out of breath. His collar was sticky to the touch and he saw stars in his eyes. He leaned on the wall and composed himself. He either had to cut back on his drinking or take the car the next time he came here.

  He went inside and took the elevator to the basement.

  The coroner’s office was a dingy looking place. Most found it suffocating. Nolan was indifferent to it. He had quickly realized that it wasn’t supposed to be bright and welcoming.

  This was where the dead were brought to be cut up and dissected. It was a serious place that provided a serious service.

  There was no one behind a desk to greet visitors. There was a ledger where each visitor was required to sign in and sign out.

  Nolan scribbled his name and entered a set of doors.

  He went down a short hallway and peered inside a room. He spotted Dr. Herb Lafferty at work on a cadaver. Lafferty was in his sixties. He was bald, slightly overweight, and he walked with a limp.

  Over the years Nolan had gotten to know Lafferty and during one visit Nolan had found out that Lafferty had had a skydiving accident that had shattered his left leg in multiple places. His leg had been put back together, but it was never the same as before.

  Nolan tapped on the door. Lafferty looked up and waved him over.

  Nolan entered the cool room and a chill went up his spine.

  Lafferty smiled. “Well, look who’s here?”

  “Doc,” Nolan replied with nod.

  “What brings you into my establishment?” Lafferty said.

  “I missed seeing dead bodies so I figured I’d see if you could hook me up with one.”

  Lafferty laughed. “I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

  Nolan adjusted his dark glasses. The room already had less lighting and with the shades he could barely see much from far away.

  Reluctantly, he removed them.

  Laffer
ty looked at him, but made no comment. It was why Nolan was comfortable coming down here.

  “What’re you working on?” Nolan asked.

  They walked over to a table. “Victim was only sixteen. She was been shot right through the head.”

  “Wow,” Nolan could only say.

  “Exactly.”

  “Perpetrator?”

  “Looks like it was the stepfather. He had apparently been abusing her for years and now she was willing to press charges against him. I guess he didn’t like that too much. He’s saying she did it to herself, you believe that?”

  “I’ll believe anything if the evidence backs it up.”

  “The evidence is overwhelming against him. He won’t be able to squirm out of this one.”

  “Glad to hear that. Doc, a body was sent here a day or so ago, the victim’s name was Eric Freeland.”

  “I remember, the professor, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “What about it?”

  “The file’s missing—your report, in particular. I figured I’d come and get it myself.”

  “I don’t have it.”

  Nolan was confused. “Then who does?”

  “I don’t know. Someone came by and picked it up.”

  “Who?”

  Lafferty shrugged. “I didn’t catch his name. He said you guys needed the report ASAP and so he was sent to retrieve it.”

  “Did he sign for it?”

  “Sure.” Lafferty went to the other side out of the room and pulled out a binder. He flipped through it. “There.”

  Nolan leaned down and squinted. The signature was nothing but a scribble. There was no possible way to decipher the name of the signatory.

  Lafferty said, “Maybe it’s sitting on someone’s desk and hasn’t made its way to you. It’s happened before, you know.”

  “Sure,” Nolan said. But something told him that wasn’t the case this time.

  “Can you tell me something from the report?”

  Lafferty shrugged. “Sure, I guess, what do you want to know?”

  “Was it a suicide?”

  Lafferty shook his head. “I couldn’t say conclusively.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I examined the body I found ligature marks around the wrists. Those marks indicate the victim had been tied up.”

  Nolan thought about it. “I saw those marks too. If that’s the case, then he couldn’t have possibly hung himself.”

  “That’s what I noted in my report.”

  Another thought went through Nolan’s head. “Did you find almost half a bottle’s worth of anti-depressants in his stomach?”

  “No, as a matter-of-fact, I didn’t. I even did a blood test and there is no trace of any medication of any kind in his body.”

  Jessica Freeland was right when she said her dad never took any such medications, Nolan thought.

  “Okay, thanks, Doc.” Nolan’s head was reeling.

  “Sure, no problem. I’m sure it’ll turn up somewhere.”

  As Nolan left the coroner’s office, he wasn’t sure what to think anymore.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Hyder returned to the Daily Times completely confused. On the one hand, he wanted to help Jessica by finding who killed her father, but on the other hand, there was no proof that her father was murdered.

  Detective Nolan had proven that Professor Freeland’s death was a suicide. No motive, no murder weapon, equalled no murder. There was no other way to look at it.

  Hyder sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.

  When Jessica had stormed out of police headquarters, Hyder had tried to reassure her that he would do everything to find her father’s killer, but even he knew his words felt hollow. He couldn’t tell if she believed him.

  She had thanked him for his help and left.

  Hyder wished he could have done more for her.

  The image of her leaving in tears bothered him. Why was that? Was he interested in her?

  He wanted to say no but he knew that was a lie. He was enamored of her. Was it because she had appeared to him in the form of a damsel in distress? She wanted Hyder to find who had killed her father. Hyder wanted to do his part and find who actually did it.

  Now he knew that was not possible, which meant he might never see Jessica again.

  Hyder sighed.

  He logged into the laptop, but quickly realized his mind was still dissecting what had just happened.

  It was more than his attraction to Jessica that was propelling him to help her. It was also his strong sense of duty to Professor Eric Freeland.

  It was Freeland who had encouraged him to follow his heart. Hyder had come to Franklin U on a business scholarship. He had hoped to become an accountant, but after spending time with Freeland, he quickly realized he was only doing it because of others. What he truly desired was to be a journalist.

  In his second year he had changed his majors. It wasn’t easy. There was no money in journalism, people said. You’re wasting your education. Do something that will secure your future.

  It was his mom and Professor Freeland who had kept him going. Whenever he had doubts, he would always remember one of Freeland’s sayings: “If you are miserable doing something, why bother doing it all?”

  Hyder would be miserable as an accountant. In fact, he probably would have been a lousy one, at that, so why bother pursuing it when his heart wasn’t in it?

  He really missed Freeland. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t kept in contact with him after he had graduated. While a student, he would make it part of his schedule to meet him once or twice a week in his office. After he left Franklin U, he hardly took the time to visit him.

  He did call him one time, though, and that was around the time he had been hired at the Daily Times. He remembered how excited Freeland was to hear from him. Freeland couldn’t stop gushing over his position at the newspaper. Hyder had to remind him several times that it was only temporary, but that did not dampen his excitement.

  He had promised Freeland that he would visit him, but he never did.

  He now felt terrible for not keeping that promise.

  It was maybe why, by trying to help Jessica, he was also trying to help himself. He was trying to overcome the guilt he felt for time not spent with his mentor.

  Professor Eric Freeland meant more to both of them than he had realized before.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Hyder was relieved when Lester walked in.

  “What’s up, bro?” Lester said. They bumped fists as a way of greeting.

  Hyder shrugged. “I’m okay.”

  “You don’t look okay,” Lester replied, looking concerned

  Hyder rubbed his temples. “Yeah, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  “Well, I’ve got just the thing to make you feel better.” From behind his huge girth, Lester brought out what looked like a DVD.

  Hyder took it and his eyes widened. “Is that the new NBA game?”

  Lester smiled. “Sure is. It’s an advance copy for reviewers. I’ve already played it and noted my comments. I’m not legally allowed to publish them until around the due date, but let’s say it’s friggin’ amazing.”

  “Cool,” Hyder said.

  “I know you were kind of miffed about not being able to go to the Game Expo, so this is my way to make it up to you.”

  “Are you allowed to pass it out?” Hyder asked.

  “Probably not, but you won’t tell, will you?”

  “No way!” Hyder replied, grinning. “It’ll be top secret.”

  “Good, cuz I’ve got it tracked and if you decide to do anything funny like, say, sell it to a third party for an undisclosed sum, then I will swoop in and karate kick you.” Lester tried to raise his left leg but only got it up a few feet.

  Hyder laughed. “Thanks, bro.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  As he watched Lester leave, he spotted a piece of paper next to the laptop.

  It was the notice from the courier
company.

  Hyder looked at his watch. He still had some time available to go collect the delivery.

  Instead of taking the elevator, Hyder bounced down the stairs.

  He hoped to be back at his desk in less than fifteen minutes, since the courier company was just around the block. There were a couple of stories he wanted to follow up. Dunny would soon come asking for material and he wanted to have something ready for her.

  Hyder joined the line at the counter and handed the delivery notice to the girl behind it when his turn came.

  She returned with a package. It was thin and light.

  He signed for it and left.

  Outside, he examined it. His name and the address of the newspaper were handwritten. He turned it over, but there was no return address.

  Odd, he thought.

  He tore the edge of the envelope and found papers inside.

  He pulled them out and realized they had been ripped from some book.

  When he scanned them, his eyes went wide.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Back at his desk, Hyder couldn’t believe what he was holding.

  He kicked himself for not catching it from the handwriting on the package. The papers were scribbled by none other than Professor Eric Freeland.

  Freeland’s handwriting was unmistakable. The way the R’s and the Y’s were looped, reaffirmed to Hyder that it was the professor’s.

  The pages belonged to a diary.

  Hyder paused.

  Was it the diary Jessica had mentioned? The one Professor Freeland always kept to himself? The one he himself had seen him scribble on?

  He read the first page.

  Today not going well, not knowing what's happening, desire to tell the truth which will make this difficult, maybe tomorrow will meet JVL and will go visit XLX Ltd. and take away the thing that is most important, but the bribes and corruption will continue until we stop it and the murder was something we should have taken to the police but not sure who to trust…

  Hyder had to stop. None of it made any sense. He flipped to another page.

  Received calls many times from XLX Ltd, but too afraid to answer, must stop meeting or else too dangerous, will have to slow down or will end up like auditor, the seeking of the original cannot be done, we have nothing to help us, must become more cautious, eyes are watching, the walls have ears, and life has become more precious…