At the office, no one was around. Des and Rios must have left to chase a lead. She activated her terminal and clicked on the files related to Robert’s death. Chief and Mavel were right. Someone was toying with them and wanted to blame these incidents on a beast. If it was Dawson, she had to find enough evidence to put his sorry ass behind bars for the rest of his miserable existence.
The first body was found in Bronze. Robert had no visible connection to Dawson, but he did seem affiliated with Steinberg, according to Mavel. What those ties were, remained unknown. Annalise took note of it and moved onto the next person.
Leila Green was captured by Dawson and trapped in the Macabre during the murder. What bothered Annalise the most was that, based on the date stamp on the video, Dawson was there when Robert was killed. That gave him a disgusting alibi, but an alibi nonetheless. It didn’t mean he hadn’t hired another butch bodyguard to take care of Robert while he raped Leila, though.
She scratched her head with both hands. The main question remained: how were these people killed? The deaths were unusual. At a first glance, these cases seemed like an attack of a possessed beast. Steinberg’s death was staged to perfection as well. Leaving a body on display like that was impossible for the possessed. They were usually consumed by an uncontrollable rage, not having the time to think of positioning the remains post-mortem. Even without seeing his autopsy results, she knew they would be the same as Robert’s—inconclusive. There were no known chemicals detected in his blood. No biological anomalies either. Hopps said a child could pull a man apart after their cells degraded that much.
Was it some kind of weapon in development? She drummed her fingers on her desk. The military wouldn’t risk another war. The modded outnumbered purebloods two-to-one in Divinity. Yet, if the news about Mavel being in custody got out, beasts would be blamed for it. Hatred would grow and the division between the modded and purebloods would climb to a new high.
The dilemma brought her to a report from a few days ago. She typed into her terminal the date of the news article and scrolled through the links until she found it. The pro-modded side of the parliament led by James Steinberg was seeking to give modded citizens the right to vote, bringing them closer to purebloods in status.
She nibbled on her lip. Who would want to bring such awful publicity about the modded right before the decision was made by the public? Unquestionably, if Dawson had a way to take control of the Anti-Modded Party, he would do so, surpassing her father’s post. What he wasn’t aware of was that she had evidence that could remove him from his position of power.
Annalise smirked. He was going to pay for everything he did in the dark.
She entered her activation code into her comms to sync with the terminal at her house. After five minutes, she had downloaded the video with Dawson at the Macabre. In the meantime, she flicked through the photos of her and Mavel. It was unusual for purebloods to take photos with their servants, but she enjoyed doing so. She found her favourite photo where Mavel was bathed in sunlight on their balcony. Tending to his plants, his hair shimmered in the light. She studied his soft expression as he planted the seeds, and her heart swelled with sadness.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she whispered, fighting the impending tears.
She sent a message to her Chief about her leaving and headed for the City Hall.
The car felt empty without Mavel by her side. She had grown used to him driving her everywhere and replying to her with his smart remarks. Now, the silence was deafening. When she took in a calming breath, she could still smell his woody cologne. It soothed her a little.
Annalise activated the radio. The first station played alternative rock. Since she preferred to read books to music, she ignored the lyrics. Her mind was too busy picking at the puzzle at hand.
Her comms beeped, and she glanced at the ID on the screen. With a sigh, she took the call. “What do you want, Will?”
“The City Hall is a mess right now. Any news on who is responsible for this atrocity?” her father demanded.
As if she was going to tell him Mavel became the prime suspect. Her grip became painful on the wheel. She needed a solid object to hold on to. Something she would gladly bash his head in with. “I can’t reveal the case details.”
“I heard your beast is behind it.”
Her knuckles turned pale as she cursed. Someone leaked information from the DPD. Since she had the closest ties to him, this situation didn’t make her look good.
“You’ve heard it wrong!”
“That is no way to speak to your father, Annalise.”
“Oh, like you care. You only use me as a convenient dress up doll whenever you have meetings or parties,” she shouted, speaking her mind. She was sick and tired of listening to his terrible parenting. He wasn’t a good father. He knew it. She knew it. The only people who didn’t were the blind citizens he put on a performance for.
Instead of erupting to match her temper, for once, her father sounded calm when he said, “Annalise, I know you care for that beast, but you need to break the contract now and—”
“What did you just say?”
“It would be bad if people discovered he is related to our family in any way.”
Typical William Storm. As always, her father only cared about his reputation and career. She smacked the wheel, hard. The pain resonated from her wrist all the way to her shoulder blade.
“Yes, Will, if the media found out, people might talk. Whatever will you do if your political position is compromised?” She hung up. There was nothing else she could say to him without screaming.
Ten minutes later, she arrived in the City Hall’s garage. She got out of the car. Still irritated after the call, Annalise scaled the steps and passed through the security scanners.
She flashed her badge at the reception. “Is Mr Dawson here?”
The young blonde typed something into her terminal. “Yes. He is in a meeting on the first floor. You may need to wait for a little bit.”
“Thanks.”
16
The Symbol
The section of City Hall where the murder took place was swarming with reporters. The frustrated gathering hurled questions at the bored-looking officers with dark circles under their eyes. She wasn’t the only one who didn’t get much sleep.
Since meeting Dawson was going to take some time, she decided to get a closer look at the crime scene. She couldn’t risk Jamen missing any clues in this investigation, no matter how small they were. After all, Mavel’s life hung on the line.
Annalise pushed past the outer layer of reporters, making some headway with her elbows. The constant movement of the bodies made her stumble with the current. Eventually, she broke through to the front. One of the officers eyed her with scepticism, and she flashed her badge.
He nodded, yet his apprehension remained on his face as he allowed her to pass through the holo-barrier.
At the end of the hall, she found a young officer, blocking her way to the first floor.
“I’m here to see the crime scene,” she said.
“Detective Auris and his partner have already checked it.”
Annalise forced a smile. “It won’t hurt to take another look, right?”
He motioned for her to follow. “The body of Mr Steinberg had been moved to the morgue. Nothing much is left since the CSU drones swept the place.” Once upstairs, the officer led the way. “I heard a possessed beast did it. Tore the man in two. Those modded have to be put down.”
She glared at the back of his head. If every officer in Divinity believed the modded were responsible for these murders, there was little reason to look elsewhere for evidence. Someone had to be orchestrating these killings and using Mavel as a scapegoat. Did Steinberg invite him here on purpose? And, why didn’t Mavel tell her about what they had talked about? Could Steinberg have said something to anger him, and he lost it? She shook her head. This wasn’t the time for doubts. Mavel had to be innocent in all of this. He needed to
be…
They arrived in a long hallway with polished wooden flooring. The officer led her to the third room on the left where the holo-barrier had been erected in front of the door.
“Take your time,” he said, unlocking the door for her.
She strode inside and the smell of blood hit her. Annalise covered her nose and mouth. The officer’s footstep retreated, and she scanned the office. A few feet ahead of her was a drying puddle of blood the size of a bathtub. She wandered over to the holo-emitter rested on the mahogany desk. Once she pressed the activation button, the room was illuminated with pale blue lights. They divided and formed the original crime scene’s projection.
The victim’s lower half appeared next to the bloody puddle. Claw marks were scratched into the smooth surface of the hardwood flooring—eight nails—as if someone had dragged Steinberg to the desk. Upon closer examination, his spine and intestines seemed to be severed. The torso in the chair was wheeled behind the office desk in front of the window. Through the clear glass, morning light shone through. The scene definitely had more impact when it wasn’t miniaturised.
Closing her eyes, she willed her body to ignore the foul odour and focused on solving this. She called Hopps, but the M.E. didn’t pick up. With a sigh, she returned to her assessment. She circled the desk, taking a closer look at the victim’s face. His hair had blotches of blood glueing his greying strands to his scalp. His eyes stared back at her with the same emptiness Leila’s had when her soul left her body. In such a short amount of time, two people were dead, and she had no one paying for their deaths.
Guilt tore at her aching heart as she edged around the seat. There was only one entrance. On the way here, she noted a single security camera facing the hallway, yet she had a feeling all the video data had been wiped, otherwise, Jamen would have said something. Outside of the blood splatters, the desk was empty, not a single digital tablet in sight. This office couldn’t have been used by the officials often.
Her stomach lurched, and she bent forwards. One by one, she sucked in shallow breaths to keep her nausea in check. It was a mistake. Although the body was removed, the holographic image was enough to push her over the edge. With the dangling intestines embedded in her mind’s eye, she vomited the contents of her stomach onto the floor. Thankfully, no witnesses were around to see her moment of weakness.
She grabbed the edge of the desk, trying to gather her bearings. This was unsightly. Contaminating a crime scene even further would give more work to the cleaners. She already felt apologetic to the poor guys. Lifting her eyes, she discovered a symbol carved into the wood under the desk. She deactivated the holo-emitter and pushed the blood-soaked chair out of the way. Going on her knees, she crawled under the desk.
The symbol was a perfect circle with a sword passing through the letter ‘S’. She took a picture of it using her wrist comms and traced her finger over the uneven surface.
She heard the door open. A set of footsteps edged closer. The officer had left long ago. Only Chief Sunderland knew she would be here. Since the official police business was concluded, no one had any reason to show up. Her heart raced in her chest as she held her breath. To keep quiet, she covered her mouth with her clammy hand.
“Annalise, are you still here?” Devlin’s voice made her panic subside in an instant.
It was silly to hide under the desk as a detective. Plastering an awkward smile on her face, she climbed out. “I am.”
Devlin returned her smile with one of his own. “Playing hide and seek at a crime scene? I thought I was the only one who did that.”
A snort escaped her. “I… That wasn’t—”
He chuckled and rounded the table, stopping a foot away from her. She had to crane her neck to be able to see his face properly.
His smile faded as did his dimples. “How are you holding up? I heard about the suspect. He was your partner…”
“Mavel is my partner. Someone is trying to set him up, I can feel it.”
Devlin said nothing. He didn’t need to. His pitying expression told her everything she needed to know. As much as she wanted to defend Mavel, she knew it would be fruitless here. This man already condemned her servant like every other pureblood in the DPD.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“I got a call from your father. He seemed concerned.”
She raised her hands, stopping him from adding anything else. “He’s not concerned about me, only about his image. Right now, I have a case to solve and the bodies are piling up without anyone to take the blame.”
Devlin took her hand and tugged her against his body. Her palms landed on his muscular chest. The strong heartbeat inside his ribcage climbed higher the longer he held her. Flustered and unable to speak, she tried pushing him back to create some distance. Instead, he pressed her closer to him, trapping her hands between them.
“I am sorry about my forward behaviour. Usually, I am much gentler, but I just couldn’t help myself. The passion you hold for your job…I wish to see that same flame burning for me one day.”
This closeness was pleasant. There was a strange comfort in the way he held her—a silent acceptance she hadn’t found anywhere else. Closing her eyes, she listened to the thumping of his steady heartbeat. Her troubled mind broke the spell, washing away the solace he gave her.
Annalise pushed him away. “We shouldn’t be doing this. I don’t know anything about you.”
Devlin inclined his head. “I apologise. My job doesn’t allow me to reveal what it entails, even to the DPD.”
She pursed her lips together. He was a walking mystery. She knew nothing about him other than his name and the fact he closely worked with the DPD and the City Hall. The way he touched her, the way he behaved, it was as if they knew each other. “Have we met before my father introduced you?”
“If you don’t remember then perhaps we haven’t,” he said with a playful wink.
“Are you ever serious?”
“Only when I’m working, otherwise, I tend to be playful when flirting with the woman I like.”
She couldn’t formulate a response. He was openly admitting to being attracted to her. No. She couldn’t let this continue. Her eyes focused on the desk again and the carving came to mind. She didn’t know what it meant, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Taking a step back, she summoned the picture of the carving on her wrist comms and showed it to him. “Have you seen this before?”
Devlin studied the image. His face betrayed nothing that went on behind those intelligent sapphire eyes. “Nothing I know of. I’m sorry.”
“It was a longshot anyway…”
“Did you find it here, at the crime scene?”
Even if he worked for the agency that policed the DPD, she didn’t know how much she could reveal to him. Jamen wasn’t happy when Devlin came to take her statement at the hospital. Was that distrust personal or work related?
“I need to go. I have to find Dawson.”
Devlin caught her by the hand. “He is a dangerous man, Annalise. You shouldn’t go alone.”
She wriggled out of his hold. “I can take care of myself. I am an officer of the law.”
Devlin ignored her statement and marched past her. He stopped at the door. “Then I will go with you.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I believe I have jurisdiction over this case as it is related to the City Hall. If you don’t believe me, contact Chief Sunderland.”
She cringed at the mention of her Chief’s name. Meeting him once a day was enough to make her want to hide in her closet. Yet, he was staking his career on the line for her to find the real culprit behind these murders. For that, she was grateful.
With a nod, she strode past Devlin and returned to the reception. To irk her further, the receptionist informed her that Dawson had left the building straight after the meeting.
Her determination to see Dawson proved useless. He wasn’t at home. He didn’t return to the City Hall for the rest of the day either. By the time
they checked all of the places a second time and requested a report from the DPD regarding his whereabouts, it was already 10 p.m.
Devlin drove her back to the Towers, and she couldn’t help but wonder where Dawson had vanished to. Was he responsible for Steinberg’s death and decided to hide? He didn’t need to disappear. There was no reason for him to hide, she corrected herself. Not unless he found out about the video I have of him in the Macabre.
Devlin parked the car. He turned off the engine and faced her. “Are you going to be alright?”
“Alright about what?”
“You have been quiet this whole time. What’s on your mind?”
She stared at her intertwined fingers in her lap. “What do you think killed him?”
“Steinberg?”
“Yes.”
He seemed to choose his next words with care. “Are you saying your beast didn’t do it?”
“Yes. Robert Fern, our first victim, died in the exactly same way. I bet the lab results will be inconclusive again. Whatever it is, it’s not a possessed beast.”
Devlin planted a reassuring hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. “When you come to a dead end in your investigation, the only thing you can do is go back to the beginning and think about it again. In my career, I have put quite a few corrupt politicians away, but, when I had nothing left to go on, going back and thinking things through helped.”
She smiled at him. He knew exactly what to say at the right time. “Thank you for dropping me off.”
“Anytime, Annalise. I’ll always be here if you need me.”
“You make it sound like we’ll be meeting a lot.”
He chuckled. “There’s always hope.”
She climbed out of the car and headed to her apartment with flushed cheeks. Her elation didn’t last long. The case was complicated, but she had to go back to the first victim and see if she had missed anything. Robert Fern was at the core of this investigation. What exactly was his connection to Steinberg and these killings?
Case: 0 (Annalise Storm Chronicles Book 1) Page 13
