Free DARK CITY a gripping detective mystery by CHRISTOPHER M. COLAVITO Page B

terms.
     
    Their silence begs the question; what are they hiding? One theory is that they have already given up trying to solve the case, but are putting detectives on the streets to keep up the appearance of doing their due diligence. If this is in fact true, it is a scandal waiting to explode.
     
    The murder of George Hobbes was a tragedy, but what it is revealing about the underbelly of this city, and the people sworn to protect it, may just be the ray of light needed to show the filth we have allowed ourselves to live in.

Chapter 13
    The Erosion Of Respect
     
    Detective Lane watched the hand circle the clock, measuring the icy silence he sat in. It felt to him as though it was unending, even as he could see each individual second elapse. Time was an illusion, a construct for dissecting pieces of lives into more manageable chunks. Thinking was easier when the scope was smaller, when the bits of knowledge could fall through the sieve and pile up like the sands at the bottom of an hourglass.
    “Are we really not going to talk about this?”
    Detective Knox's gaze shifted to look at his partner, his head not wasting the energy required to face him. He was already beginning to regret telling his story, as Lane now wanted to talk about his feelings. Knox had long since put the ordeal behind him, as much as he could, and that was where he preferred it to stay. He could never forget what he had done, nor excuse it, but the scars dulled around the edges when he wasn't constantly being reminded of his mistake.
    “I thought we just did?”
    “You know what I mean. Are you going to put that out there and just walk away?”
    “That was the idea.”
    “Too bad. If you're trying to teach me a lesson, you have to explain it with a bit more clarity.”
    Knox was not a natural teacher; he lacked the patience for the job. He had learned through attrition, by analyzing his experiences and siphoning out the important details. It didn't occur to him that he might be unique in that regard, that others lacked the ability to discern what was and was not important to know without being shown how. Human nature was frustrating to Knox, because human contact was unavoidable.
    “Why can't you just figure it out for yourself? It'll do you more good that way.”
    “That will just teach me the lesson I think I should learn from your story. It doesn't mean I'll learn the lesson you want me to.”
    “Dammit, that actually makes sense.”
    “I thought it might.”
    Knox was not eager to relive the memory, not because of the feelings it would bring back to the surface, but because of the erosion of respect that was bound to come along with it. He could handle the backwash of guilt that would rise inside him, it was a degree of suffering he had grown to believe he deserved. What he could not accept as easily was the way people who knew his secret looked at him, how fellow sinners could pass judgment so easily. It struck him as absurd that, no matter the dark secrets others hid, he was condemned by all who knew.
    “I told you that story so you might understand the importance of not getting ahead of yourself. It's easy to start believing something, and then forget that you might be wrong. We're all liable to bouts of hubris, and the best thing we can ever do is learn how to be critical of ourselves. If I had learned that at the time, maybe things would have turned out differently.”
    “Why were you so sure you were right?”
    “That's the question, isn't it? Honestly, I can't tell you why. Back then, I didn't think I could be wrong, so when I had a hunch, I ran with it.”
    “I'm sure you had done it before.”
    “Of course I had. And that just made it worse. Every time you take a risk and it pays off, you become goaded into taking more and more risks, until it eventually blows up in your face.”
    “Which will always happen.”
    “Absolutely. Luck doesn't run forever, and it's only a matter of time until you strike out. When that happens,