Back at the office, Davies meticulously re-examined all the evidence, the broken phone now a key focus. He laid it on his desk, the shattered screen reflecting the harsh fluorescent light. He cued up the security footage again, his eyes scanning the rainy images.
He zoomed in on the section of the alleyway near the street, the area where Ryan had discovered the phone. As he studied the footage, a flicker of movement caught his eye. It was subtle, almost imperceptible – a faint shimmer, a distortion of the air around a tall, indistinct figure. The figure itself was difficult to make out, obscured by shadows and the low resolution of the camera, but the distortion… that was undeniable. Davies felt a growing frustration, the distorted image taunting him with its ambiguity. It's like… heat rising from asphalt, he thought, a trick of the light, or maybe a flaw in the camera itself. "I can't wait forever for the formalities, I have to see it now." Curiosity seeped into Davies's mind, unbearable, he had to see it now, even just a bit of it to feed his hunger for answers.
Davies drove to the 24-hour convenience store, the rain still a persistent drizzle. He'd pinpointed its security camera as the only one that might have caught the alley entrance at the precise time the distorted figure appeared in the other footage. He needed a timeline, a clear view of who had entered that alley hours before and after the incident. Inside, he approached the counter. "Police Inspector Solomon Davies," he said, flashing his badge. "I'm here to view the security footage from the alley entrance. We've already put in a formal request, but..." He paused, noting the clerk's hesitant expression. "I just need to see it. Now."
The young clerk, with tired eyes, shifted uncomfortably. "Sir, I understand, but policy..." He gestured vaguely. "It's a process."
"Look," Davies said, his voice low and urgent. "I'm not asking for a copy. Just to see it. For my own peace of mind, frankly. And, well," he added, a touch of steel in his tone, "for the victim. Someone brutally murdered in that alley. Surely, you can understand that."
The clerk hesitated, then sighed. "Alright, sir. But just to look. No copies. Follow me." He led Davies to a small back office, where the grainy footage flickered on a monitor. "Just to look," the clerk repeated, pointing at the screen. "And please don't touch anything." The clerk then took control of the playback, fast-forwarding, rewinding, and pausing at Davies's direction. Davies leaned in, his eyes straining to catch any movement. He knew a clear image was unlikely, but even a flicker, a shadow, anything that matched the anomaly's movement could be useful. Anything that could explain how something could just vanish. He cross-referenced the time stamps with the other footage, trying to trace the figure's movement. Impossible. The figure should have reappeared on the next camera's feed, but it was gone. Vanished. A glitch? Or, if not, someone patient and very skilled. Davies considered the possibilities. "What would I do if I'm the criminal?" Fire escape ladders? A pre-planned route through blind spots? Familiarity with the area, perhaps, or a detailed study of the security camera layout. This wasn't some random occurrence. This had the hallmarks of a well-organized operation.
The broken phone lay on the desk, its shattered screen like fragments of a complex code, a puzzle Davies needed to solve. The new leads... the phone, the scratch marks. The brutality... the murders, the alley. The illegal trades... the drugs, the organs. There might be a connection. There has to be something that's missing. Where is it? What is it? What could be missing? The alley and this phone, what secrets are they hiding? Then, the silence breaks as the email notification chimed softly, getting his attention. He clicked it open, his eyes scanning the information.
Then a flicker of hope struck inside him
"Huh, this might be it."