The Pursuance

By L.S. Slade

A policeman reaches out to Darrin when he receives a threatening, mysterious letter in the mail. The man has demons that still haunt him even to this day, that much is clear, but how far will the detective go to solve this case? And who will he call on for help?

• Language: English
• Publisher: L.S. Slade
• Release date: Nov 8, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370328956

Book preview

The Pursuance

L.S. Slade

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One 3

Chapter Two 39

Chapter Three 54

Chapter Four 71

CHAPTER ONE

"Watch out, you’d best sink lower, for in the teller’s lounge they’ll glower;

watch out, you’d best keep tight—Oh, or else you’ll test their might."

Darrin Milton looked up from the parchment in his hands to the man seated across the mahogany table from him. Folding the note bilaterally, he set the paper gently on the table as he rested his chin in his palm, his elbow leaning against the arm of the stranger’s plush chair. Why do you think they would send this to you?

The man in front of him, his client—or, to put it in other words, the man whom owned the quaint house he was sitting inside right now— looked rather nervous. In fact, he looked more than nervous: He looked as if he were haunted by bad memories, or plagued by the presence of an unyielding ghost. But he raised his seemingly heavy head, biting the inside of his lip. I don’t know.

But Darrin was not convinced by his apparent ‘ignorance’. The way that he was wringing his hands; the way that he was taping his foot against the floor neurotically; and the way that his eyebrows were furrowed; all made his attempts at evasion a little more than obvious, and in his experience, evasions never ended with a proper solution.

If you are truly concerned for your safety, then you need to tell me everything. Every single detail, no matter how small or seemingly unimportant. It is all necessary. Now tell me: Why would someone send this to you?

It’s… Kind of a personal matter. Something that’s better kept under the rug—you catch my drift?

"I ‘catch your drift’, yes. But if you continue to avoid my questions, then you may end up under their rug Mr. Stevenson. Darrin said as he leaned forward, shifting his weight more to his feet on the floor than in his back against the chair. I will keep this information between you and I. I’m not here to cause you any personal conflict or blackmail you with threats of ‘defamation’. My job is to keep people like you safe when others can’t. You already knew that, about me— and that’s why you came to me, and not the police, right?"

Darrin shifted back against his seat again. Eying the man to analyze composure yet again. "But you are a policeman too, are you not? And yet, you have proven by coming to me that you cannot seek their aid. So, you must have done something unheard of for a ‘defender of law and justice’; or, perhaps you are simply too embarrassed to admit to your colleagues that you are afraid of the threat that you have been given."

"Alright! The policeman cried. You got me. He sighed, and put his head in his gloved hands. But I’ll be damned if this gets out. If anyone hears a peep about it, then you’re going down with me!" The man then eyed Darrin with a warning look, but Darrin didn’t appear to feel very threatened—if anything, he looked attentive and calm, waiting for the ‘dirt’ to spill.

I understand. Now go on.

Juggling my romantic life with my business life was a real struggle. It was either work or my girl. I didn’t get the ability to choose both, because I was workin’ both day in and day out already. We got thin numbers back at the station, so there’s not much wiggle room as far as the schedule’s concerned…

The man paused and looked down at his lap, instead of looking into the detective’s eyes. But Darrin encouraged him to continue. Go on. I promise that your secret is safe with me.

Well, I usually get the night shift. And cuz’ no one works past 8 ‘cept me, I let her come into the office with me—wherever, whenever, he paused, crossing his arms before proceeding to tell the story, And well, that’s not really a big deal. But because she was always around, I got in a fool-around mood, and I started going home around 8. Well, I was out of it one night, and I forgot the files I was working on in my office… So… I gave the keys to her n’ asked her to pick them up for me.

He huffed nervously, and bit his lip, running his hand through his almost nonexistent black hair. But now I’m thinkin’, maybe she had a personal vendetta against me. I don’t know why, but maybe it has to do with, well… … Maybe she found out that she wasn’t the only gal in my life. And I’m not sayin’ she did it, but circumstantial evidence sure says so. And when I went to work the next day, I found that some of the weaponry was nowhere to be accounted for. That, and the video from that night, past 7 PM, was deleted. I convinced the higher ups that the security system for the department must have been hacked or somethin’; and I accounted for the missing weaponry in our ‘used inventory count’. But I know that wasn’t actually the case.

You tampered with the files and you covered your own tracks. You know what kind of sentence you’ll have to bear if the information gets out, don’t you?

You promised not to say a word.

And I will hold my promise. But other people might not be as kind as I am. And it’s bound to get out sooner or later— that is unless you maintain your social image. If your work ethic remains unaffected by this incident, then there will not be a soul at your workplace that would suspect you of lying. If your work ethic does change, however, for good or for worse, then you will become a suspect on the line. Do you understand what I’m saying?

"Yes, you have a good points Milton. I’m glad