Chapter 25 _ The Peak Of Police Investigations
958 Words
Detective Mohamed at Night: Moving from one office room to another, searching through files and archives, tireless in his quest.
In the dead of night, as silence enveloped the world, the detective sat in his private office. A faint glow from a small lamp flickered above him, casting long, indistinct shadows on the shelves crammed with old books and files. Before him, the cold light of a computer screen flickered, while old papers lay scattered on the wooden desk beside him.
He rose slowly, reached for the light switch, and with a gentle tap, the room was filled with a soft light, revealing a thin layer of dust clinging to the furniture. He took out three files, carried them to his desk, and carefully placed them before him.
File One: Sealed in bold, "Nasser's Case."
File Two: "Nabil's Case."
File Three: "Mira's Case." Leaning back in his worn leather chair, he opened them one by one, reading them deliberately slowly, as if each line held a hidden code waiting to be deciphered. His fingers brushed the edges of the paper, his eyes moving with intense focus, while a cigarette lit between his fingers. He took a deep breath, exhaled smoke into the still air, then lit another... and another, until a stifling haze enveloped the room, permeating every corner.
His face was tense, impassive. His gaze never left the pages. Every word seemed to bring him closer to an even darker truth—a truth that threatened to be revealed, but also held danger within it.
"The research has exhausted me." The journalist sat at her laptop, her eyes heavy with fatigue as she flipped through the pages. Her fingers moved slowly across the keyboard before stopping abruptly. She closed the laptop and set it aside, then rose slowly to turn off the light. A heavy silence filled the room as she made her way to the bed, lay down, and gradually succumbed to sleep, while shadows crept into the corners.
-The Climax of the Investigation- Will someone succumb to the tension?
A dim light fell on a wooden desk scattered with files and papers. Detective Mohammed sat in his chair, facing Daniel, who was slightly tense but trying to appear calm.
Detective Mohammed (calm but firm): How was your father, Nabil, killed?
Daniel (steadily): My father wasn't killed... He died of a severe heart attack.
Detective: And who said that?
Daniel: A doctor from the Public Prosecutor's office.
Detective: And who questioned his death and summoned the Public Prosecutor?
Daniel: His friend... Dr. Ziad.
Detective: Where were you when your father died?
Daniel: I was at work.
Detective: What do you do?
Daniel (proudly): I'm an engineer in communications and advanced technology... I've received several international awards.
Detective (nodding): Well... I might need you later. Who was with your father when he died?
Daniel: Rovan...the maid.
The detective (pauses briefly and makes a note): Rovan...okay. Thank you, Mr. Daniel.
Daniel slowly rises, leaves his chair, walks to the door, opens it, and leaves.
Detective Mohammed remains seated behind his desk. The bell rings on the table. A guard enters.
Detective: Call the maid, Rovan...and ask Dr. Ziad to come in.
Guard (looks outside the door and gestures): Please come in, Doctor.
The sound of Dr. Ziad's footsteps can be heard from outside, approaching slowly before he enters. Dr. Ziad enters, saying: Hello, Detective.
Detective: Hello, Dr. Ziad. Please sit down.
Dr. Ziad sits in the chair facing Detective Mohamed.
Detective: What do you know about Mr. Nabil Fayek, the lawyer?
Dr. Ziad: Mr. Nabil is my friend and my neighbor on the same floor. Dr. Ziad remains silent.
Detective: And what else?
Dr. Ziad: I wish someone from the prosecution had summoned me since Nabil's death because there's a lot I wanted to say.
Detective: Please, tell me everything briefly, only what pertains to the case.
Dr. Ziad: I had just returned from the clinic when I received a call from Mr. Nabil's maid, Rovan, saying that Mr. Nabil was very ill and asked me to come quickly. I quickly changed my clothes and went to Mr. Nabil's apartment. Unfortunately, when I arrived, Mr. Nabil had already passed away, but I suspected he had been murdered. I called the police and told them I was requesting an autopsy of Mr. Nabil's body because I suspected he had been killed.
Detective: And what is that? Your uncle suspects he was murdered.
Dr. Ziad: There were human fingerprints on his neck, ten fingers, five on each side, very clearly.
Investigator: Who do you accuse of killing Professor Nabil?
Dr. Ziad: Rovan, the maid, of course. And I was very upset with his son, Daniel, for letting her stay in the apartment after Professor Nabil's death.
Investigator: Do you think Rovan is so stupid as to kill Nabil and then call you to confirm the crime? She could have escaped at the time. Who else would you accuse besides Rovan?
Dr. Ziad: No one was with him in the apartment at that time except Rovan.
Investigator: When the police arrived, what was their reaction?
Dr. Ziad: They closed the case file, and a forensic report came out saying that Nabil died a natural death.
Investigator: The forensic doctor, the one who performs the autopsy, a doctor like you, how can one doctor say he was murdered and another say he died a natural death? Explain it to me, Doctor. Are there different types of doctors, or what? You've confused us. Or do you need to study again?
Dr. Ziad opens his mouth and mutters. The investigator interrupts him before he can begin, saying, "Thank you, Dr. Ziad." Dr. Ziad stands up, heads towards the office door, opens it, and leaves.
- Writer
