Father, forgive me

Emanuel had faced many confusing things for the past few weeks, which he tried to push aside.

Some things are better left unanswered as much as he hated admitting it.

The more he tried to push the thoughts away, the more headaches he got. His mind was an enemy who dragged him from one thought to another, exhausting him to the point where sleep became an unreachable luxury.

Insomnia didn’t help the case either.

The growing folders on his desk about crime scenes and murders grew into a tall pile, night after night. He drowned in exhaustion and alcohol in hopes that one of those fancy bottles would shut down his thoughts.

But the one thought that didn’t leave even when he was ugly-drunk, was her face.

The woman from church, he remembered her every mole on that clean face, every wrinkle or dimple. Every bouncy curl.

He couldn’t explain why she stayed in his head for so long, he had seen so many faces in his life - witnesses, criminals, judges, officers, even dead bodies. But her face stayed in his mind like a permanent presence.

She looked like she knew something that he didn’t.

And it made him grit his teeth together from anger, Emanuel hated not knowing the answer to obvious. And while he was losing himself in his own thought, people lost their lives out there. People were getting killed while he drowned in some kind of a self-destruction and alcohol.

The call from Spencer came at midnight. By the time Emanuel arrived on his own without a car, police cars were surrounding the crime scene.

“You’re going to kill yourself before criminals get the chance.” Spencer mumbled as he watched Emanuel chain-smoke his 5th cigarette in a row.

“Suppose you’ll have to find a new detective.” Emanuel glanced at him then choked from the amount of smoke that he exhaled.

“Over my dead body, I hardly got to find you.” Spencer huffed and gestured for him to follow him towards the scene.

The street had already been sealed off, Spencer and Emanuel came closer, one of the officers greeted them with a police nod and lifted the police tape for them to enter the crime scene.

“Detective.” The officer said and gave Emanuel a brief handshake, then Emanuel’s eyes shifted to the seasoned officers right and saw the younger man beside him. “ This is officer Thomas, he’s under my wing for a while. He’ll be helping this case.”

The younger man who turned out to be called Thomas nodded and stepped closer also shaking Emanuel’s hand. “Detective Emanuel. It’s a pleasure. I have the folder right here for you.”

Emanuel’s tiredness didn’t go away as he took the folder from officer Thomas with half lidded, red rimmed eyes.

“Victim is male, approximately early forty’s. We received a call after the owner of the club, found his body near the dumpster.”

“Case of death?”

“Not confirmed, no one touched the body Sir.”

Emanuel nodded, for a fresh officer who was still being mentored he wasn’t that bad. He glanced towards the body and narrowed his tired eyes.

“Who else works on this case?”

“Detective Harlan Sir.” Thomas answered as he watched Emanuel try his very best not to show the actual emotions on his face.

Everyone knew Harlan.

The whole department did.

Not because he was bad or incompetent, no he was the master at his job. Smart… sometimes too smart.

“Of course he’s here. Of course he is” Spencer overheard Emanuel’s tone and walked closer, his hand patted Thomas’s back once, twice..

“Don’t mind Emanuel here kid.” Spencer spoke, “he’s just jealous that there are better detectives than him.” He then looked back to Emanuel’s non pleased face and raised an eyebrow.

“Problem?”

“Not yet.” Emanuel said before he opened his tool box and began preparing for investigation of the crime scene. Pulling on one-time use gloves and adjusting them just right. He crouching down in-front of the body.

Not touching, just observing. The body laid on its back, one hand slumped on the floor, the other on his chest, Emanuel gestured for the photographer to take a photo of the body from a certain angle.

“Thomas.” Emanuel called out, when Thomas turned to look at him, Emanuel pointed at the victims hand on his chest.

“You said no one touched the body before me?”

“No one Sir.” Thomas nodded, he didn’t seem to be lying. His body language was full of confidence.

“The victims fingers are curled.”

“So?”

“So… if he died in this position, his hand should’ve fallen differently.”

Thomas’s brows furrowed in confusion, meanwhile Emanuel reached for his tool-box and took out small but sharp forceps, with careful movements and precision he tugged at the victims fingers, one by one. And pulled out a piece of ripped black cloth.

“Label it.”

Thomas fumbled with words before speaking.

“Skin, leather…? No, it’s a piece of cloth?” Thomas said as he held the evidence bag open when Emanuel placed the cloth inside. “Not just any cloth. See the stitches? Those aren’t cheap.”

“You got it just from the stitching?” Thomas said before realizing how harsh it sounded and lowered the evidence bag.

Emanuel nodded, “you’d be surprised how much small details can reveal.” He knelt back down and examined the victims pockets carefully, moving at slow speed careful to not mess with the evidence.

Right pocket — empty.

Left pocket — held a watch. And not just a watch, Patek Philippe - 18k gold case, hand wound movement. Extremely prestigious, but the victims clothes would barely go for middle class.

“Patek Philippe..” Before Emanuel could continue, Thomas gasped audibly.

“Patek Philippe… Minute Repeater!” Thomas said as he opened another evidence bag and helped Emanuel place the watch in it.

“Good eye.” That might’ve been the first time Thomas smiled in a while. Just a small curl around his lips. But nothing good lasts and Emanuel understood it as soon as he heard Harlan’s voice from behind.

Harlan approached with his hands tucked behind his back, that demonstrative detective hat leaned to the side on his head, golden hair shining under it. “wasting your and our time again Emanuel?”

Emanuel’s hands balled into fists before he turned to face the ‘golden boy’ Harlan. “Excuse me?”

“It’s obvious, robbery gone wrong. The killer panicked.” Harlan shrugged.

“The watch is still here. What kind of a robbery would that be.”

“What watch? That old thing? Please… I just questioned the witness. Case solved.”

“You didn’t solve anything.”

“Didn’t have to. It’s clear as day what happened here.”

“You simplify things.”

“You complicate them.”

Detective Harlan almost snarled the last words, but didn’t let his charm break. He simply turned his heel and continued speaking with officers about the ‘solved case’. Emanuel turned back to face Thomas who was kneeling beside the corpse.

“Sir there’s a bullet wound.”

“Where?” How did Emanuel not see it sooner? At first he usually noticed any wounds, scratches or bullet wounds.

“It’s under the collar… but the collar is good, no tear.” Thomas scooted away to let Emanuel take a closer look…

And indeed. The clothes were in perfect condition. Too perfect for a corpse killed by a bullet. Also if it was a robbery, why would the robber shoot his victim, only to not steal anything?

“Call doctor Miller. We need to examine the body further.”

It wasn’t long before Dr. Miller approached, but after some time of intense examination Miller lowered his mask and took his gloves off.

“Detective Emanuel, I happened to find three bullet wounds, one behind the neck, two in his spine.”

Emanuel frowned, three bullet wounds, yet there wasn’t much blood, and the clothes were barely torn. But the bullets were deep enough to kill without a second chance.

“What about the curled hand?”

“Rigor Mortis.” Miller simply stated before pushing his glasses up on his template while filling in blank spaces in the victims folder.

Thomas raised an eyebrow, he fumbled with his words but still saved courage to ask.

“Rigor… what?”

“The muscles strain after death, causing fingers to curl and stay that way.”

Thomas hummed and nodded but Emanuel stayed put on his idea that someone else had touched the body before him.

Emanuel looked down at all the evidences he collected and then took the folder from Dr. Miller…

It was going to be a long, sleepless night.

Lucifer sat in her office, like usual. Counting money from one bundle to another.

One…

Two…

Three…

Until she heard footsteps towards her door. One of her men entered.

Panting, eyes wide. Barely holding himself. Lucifer did not look up or stop, she just counted the bundle on money in her hands and spoke in that monotone voice of hers.

“It’s done, ma’am!”

“What’s is?”

“The man. He’s dead.”

Lucifer still didn’t look up. “Which one?”

“Anthony.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

The name didn’t tell her anything.

The man waited.

Lucifer waited

“Anthony who?”

“Anthony? The one that owed you money for five years straight?”

“Hm”

Lucifer tied the counted bundle of money and picked another one, her fingers full of rings moving with grace against the bills.

“No doesn’t ring a bell.”

“The bodyguard.”

Lucifer still didn’t look up.

“Hm”

“The one supposed to watch the club.”

“Uh-huh…”

Lucifer finally looked up and her eyebrows relaxed before she looked down at her bundle of money again.

“Oh that’s unfortunate.”

“…ma’am he’s dead.”

“You don’t have to repeat yourself, I heard you the first time.”

The man opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Lucifer sighed

“The real question is how does a bodyguard die anyway? What an unreliable person..Just clean the body we will deal with it later.”

Lucifer spoke in a bored tone, as if this was just another Thursday for her.

“We can’t ma’am.”

“Why not?”

“The police is there.”

That’s when Lucifer froze, only for a moment before finally paying full attention to one of her men speaking to her. She put the bundle of money away, leaning on her desk with narrowed eyes.

“And who’s investigating?”

“Detective Emanuel.”

Lucifer’s lips curled into a small, barely noticeable smile before she wiped it off.

“Well”

Standing up from her seat, she took her long coat and tugged it around her shoulders. The golden rosemary shining bright on her collarbone.

“Then.. let’s pay our friend a visit. Shall we?”