Chapter 4 - A Trail of Crimson
"Don't touch the door handle!" I snapped, lunging forward to grab Chief Vance’s arm just an inch before his palm hit the stainless-steel push bar.
Vance jerked his hand back, blinking in confusion. "What? Why not? We need to secure the perimeter—"
"The perimeter was secured the moment those files vanished," I said, dropping into a low crouch to examine the smooth concrete floor near the threshold. Pointing toward the faint smudge near my boot heel, I added, "Look closely at the moisture pattern. It’s not rainwater. It’s fresh machine oil mixed with copper grease. That override code wasn't punched into the keypad from the master terminal upstairs. Someone used a physical bypass jumper wired directly into the main circuit breaker behind the wall panel."
Vance knelt beside me, his expensive trousers brushing against the gritty floor. He squinted at the faint grease smears. "An internal hardwire bypass requires a department-issued maintenance key and at least twenty minutes of uninterrupted access to the wiring trunk. Only two men in this entire precinct have the clearance and the technical know-how to do that: our head of station maintenance, and..." He trailed off, his voice dying in his throat.
"And?" I prompted, keeping my eyes fixed on his profile.
"And Lieutenant Hayes," Vance whispered, shaking his head in immediate denial. "No. Absolutely not. Arthur Hayes has twenty-five years on the force. He’s my most decorated shift commander. He’s practically family."
"People do desperate things when federal indictments start landing on their desks, Thomas," I said, standing up and brushing the dust off my knees. "Where is Hayes right now? Why wasn't he answering his radio when the alarm tripped?"
Before Vance could answer, a sharp, frantic crackling echoed from the walkie-talkie clipped to the patrolman's belt.
"Dispatch to Unit Four... dispatch to any available unit in the 5th... we have a Code 10-David at the municipal docks warehouse four. Shots fired. Officer down—repeat, officer down!"
The radio static hissed violently, followed by the high-pitched shriek of a feedback loop.
Vance snatched the radio right off the patrolman's shoulder, pressing it to his mouth. "This is Chief Vance. Status update on the docks. Who is down?!"
The voice on the other end was breathless, punctuated by the wailing of approaching siren lights in the background. "It’s... it’s Lieutenant Hayes, Chief. We found him slumped over the steering wheel of his unmarked cruiser. He’s unresponsive, and the trunk... the trunk is wide open. All the missing evidence bags from the precinct vault are scattered across the pavement."
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Chief Vance dropped his hand, the radio slipping from his numb fingers and clattering hard against the concrete floor. He looked at me, his eyes wide with stark, unadulterated terror. "Hayes... they didn't just steal the evidence, Solomon. They used him as a mule, and now they've silenced him."
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