The Chronicles

Chapter 1

Meanwhile, the Next Morning in Whitefield.

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The crime scene is a wriggling mass of spectators by the time I arrive, even this early in the morning. People line the small alleyway, packed so tightly I can't believe they're able to breathe, let alone fight for space to see the end of the street.

Revving the engine of my battered, silver hatchback does little to gain anyone's attention, and I realise I can't park unless they move. Not wanting to be late to my very first case as Whitefield's newly-appointed detective, I roll down the window of my car and balance an elbow against the door so I can lean out as far as possible.

"Hey guys, can you move yourselves, please? I'm the detective here for this crime scene."

My words don't inspire the quick motion that I'd hoped, but the buzzing crowd does reluctantly part. I drive further down the alleyway.

Managing to park, I crank on the handbrake, trying to ignore the pained, crunching sound the car makes.

Out of habit, I glance into the rear-view mirror, quickly checking my appearance. I brush a hand over my light brown hair. Figuring there is little else I can do to procrastinate, I finally force myself out of the car.

The chill air bites at my skin as soon as I step out of the warm comfort of the car. I shove my hands into the pockets of my black coat, shivering at the relief it provides from the sharp cold. Buds may be clinging to the few stark trees lining the alleyway, but it is far from spring yet.

"Cold.."

It looks as though most of Whitefield has gathered at the scene, which is more likely true than not, considering the whole town consists of less than a thousand people.

As I step up to the blue-and-white-striped barrier, I'm greeted by Officer Lender, a part-time volunteer on the scant Whitefield police force. I wonder for a moment if his hunched posture is from the grisly nature of the crime or just his advanced age.

He looks up from his pad, and I can almost hear the creaking in his bones at the motion. I wait as he speaks to greet me, his voice croaking out from his thin lips, partly-hidden by a scraggly grey beard that matches the colour of his skin.

Finally, he says.

"Credential please, Sir."

"Eh?"

I let out a long sigh.

"Are we really going to do this, Lender? You started working as a volunteer long after I joined the force."

"Sorry, mayor's orders," He replied nonchalantly.

I'm hesitant to open my coat after just managing to get warm, but I pull one side open to yank out my badge and ID. I hand it over, Lender not even glancing at it before handing it back. His eyesight may be bad, but even he cannot fail to recognise me.

"All good, Detective; step on through."

I take back my ID and dip under the barrier Lender is struggling to keep raised. As I move away from him, I glance down at my new ID.

'Detective.' It's the first time I've been addressed that way by one of my colleagues.

It's strange to hear my new title. It belonged to old Detective Harphs for so long that I'm not sure if it fits me quite yet. After all, the only training I've had was the rushed speech I received from the mayor, addressing my 'many merits' and how to show my 'willingness' to take over. The total of my detective experience probably amounts to that hour he spent lecturing me.

"Ahh, will this really work out?"

The promotion was rushed through in time for Harph's retirement party

I was so excited for the promotion, though I wasn't expecting it.

The promotion may have come as a surprise, but it was certainly a happy one.

The quickness of the whole situation led to whispers about the promotion only being given because the captain needed someone in the station of a senior position, so he could go off and play golf with the mayor whenever he wants.

"That old geezer really is a pain in the ass."

But I'm still proud. I smile at the memory.

My photo stares back at me from the ID pouch. I glance over my details, my name listed boldly at the top.

[ Finn Austen ]

"Finally here then, Detective Austen."

I glance up at the sound of the familiar voice, a smile already on my face. Officer Emily Poname strides towards me, my old partner grinning at me as she nears.

"Not much of a surprise they're all gathered here,"

she says, gesturing to the crowd behind us.

I look over my shoulder at the bustle of people, sunlight glinting off the phones held ready to take whatever pictures they can.

"This is probably the biggest thing that's happened for years,"

I reply with a shrug.

She nods in response, brushing back a few brown curls that bob in front of her hazel eyes.

Emily Polane.. Rumours says that all the men in the station are head over heels for her.

She has big hazel eyes, brown hair and pretty round reddish cheeks. She lifted the hair off her neck and sighed.

"I don't blame you for staring, Finn. Nonetheless I just can't help but notice none of the fancy-dancy silver spoons have bothered to show up."

!!!

"Ah! yeah I think so too."

I was so focused on her looks that I forgot about her infront of me talking.

"Don't suppose they care what happens to us normal folk, as long as no one touches their mansions. But anyway, how's the first day of your promotion going?"

"I kind of wish my career didn't start with a death,"

I admit, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets.

She purses her lips and sighs. "Yeah. Not that you should take it as an omen or anything."

With a strained laugh, she dares a glance down the street at the crime scene, though it's half hidden by white-clad crime scene technicians.

The techs all busy themselves placing down yellow tags and measuring out every inch of space. There's the occasional bright flash as they take photos.

"Well, Let's get going th—

"Excuse me!"

A voice stops us before we move.

"I need to know what is going on. I demand to know!"

Emily's grip on her belt tightens and I let out a drawn breath.

"I'm the landlord of these apartments, And I want a full explanation right this instant!"

The man, an older gentleman in a crisp, grey suit, sweeps an arm upwards at the soaring, crumbling building beside us.

"I'm sorry, sir,"

I reply, my tone as light and polite as I can make it.

"But we can't give out details at this time."

Emily places a hand on my shoulder.

"You go on ahead; I'll deal with him. It's not your job to settle this lot any more, Detective."

I throw her a grateful nod as she moves towards the landlord with a stern frown. Her tall, statuesque figure is hidden behind the stiff, unshapely, dark blue uniform; her pretty features contrast against the heavy belt and boots she wears.

I shake away the thought, turning to head towards the crime scene. It's not far before I stumble to a stop, holding up my hands to keep balance as a technician walks in front of my path. The woman clicks her tongue at me before continuing to bend down and retrieve a piece of trash, carefully storing it in a clear plastic bag and sealing the top.

I move forwards once more, my path like a dance as I make my way through a maze of yellow tags and disgruntled technicians. I avoid coming up against the wall, which is slick with something I don't even want to think about.

Thankfully, I make it past the busiest part to find Doctor Harvey crouched over the body. He looks up at me and frowns.

"Sorry this has to be your first case, Finn."

"Yeah…."

"It's pretty amazing to think I delivered you as a baby and now here you are, as a peer." His pride in me is dulled somewhat due to our meeting over a dead body. The gloomy light of the morning makes the grey peppering his short, black hair seem lighter, and his deep brown skin a little more aged, than usual.

A quiet punctuates the air between us. Dr. Harvey returns to looking over the still figure at his feet.

--- Chapter 1 End ---