A glance is enough

"What!" I asked. The case was getting too complicated. The questions were built upon another question. I exhaled to control my thundering nerves and looked at Jake who already wore his cap.

"Let's go to the Import Office. This case is seriously getting on my nerves--and summon Gale and June."

"Gale isn't in the office, he went out for some emergency," I said reluctantly. "And the lunch break is still ongoing. He isn't back."

Jake looked at me with disappointment, like I had forced Gale to go out of the office and take out his shit!

He walked past by my side and opened the door to get out of his office. I followed behind me and listened to his order, "Take Officer Orqle as a follow-up."

"Yes sir!" I hailed to him.

I again went to Canteen-1 to inform Orqle of his assigned duty and next to Canteen-2 to force June to come with me. 

"The break hasn't ended yet and I am already summoned." June who thought of taking a good slumber cried in wry.

"The import officer committed suicide!" I said to her in a hurry as she circulated her hair into a bun.

"Fucking what?!" It seems Jake had given her the brief details of the case over lunch.

We hurried off from the ward and came running to the entrance.

We saw the service car waiting at the office porch, near the end of the staircase.

"We are not travelling in this junk, are we?" June murmured voicing out my thoughts. This was going to be a tough ride with my car-sick ass.

Orqle was seated in the driver's seat and we three sat in the back with little suffocation,

I sat in the middle and both sat adjacent to me.

"Can we move?" Orqle asked Gray while keeping his hands on the steering wheel.

"Yes,"

The car came to turbulence and we moved towards the east. The ride of thirty minutes to the import office was filled with silence, there's a reason behind that actually, who would dare to speak when the engine spoke of its suffering?

On the journey, June would frequently move her head out of the window to look at the stalls selling delicacies.

On my left, Jake observed the trees which left us behind as the car moved forward. The wind from Gray's side brought the fresh air and June's side brought the aroma of the food.

Unfortunately, I could only get the aroma of the fresh sweat from the bodies adjacent to me.

I feel nauseous now!

___

Reaching the import office, we were directly greeted by the Office boy who seemed to be a young boy in his early teens.

I sensed him becoming scared and nervous upon our arrival.

"Please be at ease." June pat the boy's shoulder and soothed him.

"I was brewing coffee when I heard a gunshot from Sir Unhole's room." He stated hurriedly as if afraid of being accused.

Why? Because the Dregs were prone to accusation. The earlier police and even the present were known to be robbers, who would put an innocent behind bars to squirt money from them. They mostly targeted the Dregs, that is, the farmers and other handicraft worker.

It was done due to an unhidden fact. We the people, who provided service were categorized under Tycoon. Tycoons were subjected to higher taxes because they were income-earning class. 

The weirdest part was, that even the royal guard from a non-aristocratic background had to pay tax.

It was shameful for me to claim that in some provinces of Hazael police don't heed to the problem of Dregs.

Clans like Ghost City were formed to decline such practices, but greed and pride made them more dangerous than those of the Tycoons and Elites.

"We know you are innocent, little boy," I said my part, again to put him at ease. But, we can't expect a young boy to act normal after witnessing a suicide event. He seemed to be shaken by the effect of the event.

"Can you lead us to Mr Unhole's cabin?" Jake asked gently. His frustrating demeanour was long gone with the ride in the car, the cool detective was back.

The young boy led us inside the building. Inside, we saw the other officers standing in groups and discussing. They didn't dare to look at us as we passed by; as if we were the Medusa who would turn them into living stones.

That was the problem, we, the policemen were feared more than respected.

Next, we reached the cafeteria and we passed a corridor, turned left and walked a series of steps to reach Unhole's office.

The door to his room was broken. I looked at the office boy, and understanding my doubt he explained, "The door was locked, hearing the gunshot I panicked. I banged the door several times but got no response from Sir, so I kicked the door and broke it."

"Do you want to be in?" Orqle stupidly asked the office boy. The boy in reply furiously shook his head. He didn't want to be in.

"You must leave then, alright?" 

The boy immediately ran off the scene to not witness the haunting picture inside for the second time.

Orqle held the broken doorknob and chanted, "1.. 2.. 3.."

In an abrupt motion, he opened the door. We didn't enter the scene at once. We waited for several seconds before Orqle cautiously went inside with a gun in his hand.

"Clear," he stated.

In line, the three of us went inside to witness Unhole sitting on his chair, head slumped towards the side and eyes wide open.

The wall next to him was painted with his crimson blood and the floor was pooled with blood dripping from his hand.

From the eyes of normal people, indeed it looked like a suicide but as a detective, a glance at the scene was enough to tell us that it was a MURDER.

Because two things were out of position.