Detective D. Case Read Online Free PDF

effect than the other parts
of the apartment. Really, it might be lair for vicious plotting. Lincoln leaned
against a wall that, when moved, eased long-stretched creaks like a violin’s extended
note.    Ccccccrrreeeeaaaakk, the wall went as if the plaster were alive.
Piddles of water outside meant more rain was coming from the more-than-stormy sky.
Lincoln heard the drips shooting down onto the pavement pinging on the fire
escape’s metal railing. He went back to the phone call, where Chief Advert
spoke about the detective coming. Who could the man (or woman) be? He may sound
like a rookie, but most of the information from the chief seemed cryptic and
interlocked with the inner vagueness of a void. He would have to show the
Polaroid, of course. What the detective would think about it, he did not know. The
usual cases had the police investigators finishing up work around the same time
of approximately two weeks, maybe three but no more than the end of a month.
This case proved far more difficult that Lincoln was surprised to hear that the
chief would bring in Darren Will to patch it up. Darren Will . . . the man
received awards for the cases he’d completed, some of them in pure gold (don’t
ask who had the time and the income to do something like that). How someone
could lose their life so easily questioned Lincoln’s intelligence and his
doubts, too. One of the greatest detectives of their city, and all city
investigators who proved that crime could easily be scrubbed off the streets
into peace, had died, and from what?
    Off
in another room were footsteps. Voices of men layered each other. One of them
said welcome, maybe. Had the detective come over without his notice?
              “Is
he here?” he asked without making sure if anyone was there to hear him.
              The
door opened. But wait, when Big Hands left, he had left the door open. And now
it’s closed, so someone opened it and…
              “Officer
Deed?” an officer called. “The detective’s here.”
              Nodding,
Lincoln got to his feet. He brushed off the dust that had collected over his
uniform. When he got close to a mirror on his way out, he noticed the dust was
all over his face, too, powdering him like an English lady. How distraught.
              Everyone
got to meet the detective introduced into the case involving the wealthy
McDermott. In the living room they all sat, some officers smoking while others
stood and leaned on walls hearing what the detective had for them. Officer
Lincoln Deed learned that the detective hired for the case – which, he noticed,
had resumed its search beyond the once yearly tedious search through an
apartment that held no answers – had an initial for a name.
              D.
              He
thought it quite a curious name, if people even considered it a name. “What
does it stand for, the letter?” Lincoln asked the detective.
              “Nothing,”
the detective answered. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
              “Are
you sure?”
              “I’m
certain that there is no meaning. I chose a letter, that’s all.”
              Who
chooses a letter for their name? In fact, wasn’t it the parents who chose their
children's names? Lincoln also noticed the age of the detective, but that
didn’t matter; Darren Will wasn’t that young, either. “Have you heard of the
Endless Maze case before?”
              D.
shook his head. “Today is the day I found out. Chief Advert called me earlier
and offered me the case.”
               “So
you never heard of it before? Not even mentioned?”
              “Not
once.”
              Lincoln
played with his fingers. “Did, did the chief tell you about the backstory, what
happened to McDermott?”
              D.’s
leg bounced hard in nervousness. His forehead was drenched in sweat. “He never
spoke of it. When I met