Chapter 40: The Question Mark
Veronica’s expression remained unchanged. "Mr. Ledger passed away days ago."
Della narrowed her eyes. "I’m aware. What was the cause?"
"The cause is still undetermined. The coroner hasn’t yet looked at the body," Veronica replied, sipping tea.
Della crossed her arms. "Can I see the body?"
"I’m afraid that won’t be possible anytime soon," Veronica replied without looking.
Della frowned. "I only need to confirm the cause of death."
"If it is an emergency," Veronica said, looking up from her cup. "Then I’m sure your superiors won’t mind providing a letter authorizing you to do so."
Della fell silent for a moment. She couldn’t exactly ask for one.
Especially not when her captain had warned her to leave the case alone.
She steadied herself. "Of course. I’ll get back to you on that."
"I’ll be anticipating," Veronica replied, already knowing the outcome.
Della gave a small bow. "Thank you for your time."
"Likewise," Veronica replied.
Della stepped out of Veronica’s office and closed the door behind her. She glanced at the name tag for a brief moment before walking away.
She had received news of Nathan’s demise yesterday but the prison doctor hadn’t been around to give a comment.
Which is why she came today to see her. Della pressed her lips together as she recalled the doctor’s gaze when they spoke.
There was no warmth in her words or any emotion on her face. Just the the tea sipping which Della found annoying.
She dismissed the thought and continued down the hallway, her shoes clacking against the floor as her mind processed the information she had so far
Nathan had died around three days ago. The cause was unclear but the most likely scenarios were suicide or murder.
Della stopped at a section of the prison and got a view of the attack scene.
The wall had been fully repaired but there were officers, reporters, heroes and other officials moving about.
A villain had escaped, a heroine had appeared and within all these, the one small lead she had on specter had died.
"Just great," she muttered.
Della gave the scene a once-over before walking to her car.
----
She arrived home to find the apartment unusually quiet.
"Mom?" she called out as she kicked off her shoes but there was no response.
She walked into the kitchen where a covered plate sat on the counter with a note beside it.
| I cooked it earlier. Heat it before you eat - Mom |
Della smiled at the note. She could handle interrogations, crime scenes, stubborn witnesses and even tea-sipping doctors.
Cooking, however, remained one of the few things she had never figured out.
And her mother knew better than to trust her with anything more complicated than instant noodles.
She kept the note and set the plate aside for later.
The apartment wasn’t particularly large, but it was comfortable enough for the two of them. Her mother’s belongings occupied most of the living room.
Della’s presence was easier to identify by the stack of case files, scattered books, and holsters.
Her own room was equally simple. Old books filled one shelf, Vinyl records sat beside a vintage radio, while an old camera rested on the dresser.
The room also featured a bed, a small wardrobe and a desk with her investigation board hanging above it.
She set her mechanical watch on her desk and turned her focus to the board.
Photographs and red strings filled the whole area. She had even added three new images, Nathan’s friends.
She interviewed them after her first meeting with Nathan. Their reactions towards his case hadn’t been exactly warm.
Two of them had complains about him and one almost slipped up.
But compared to Specter, they were small pieces of the puzzle.
Her eyes drifted to Nathan’s picture on the wall. He had been her one potential lead in the case but now he was out of the equation.
She raised her marker to the board, intending to mark his picture with an ’X’.
Her hand hovered over the photograph. She had only known him for a short time, but somehow crossing out his picture felt wrong.
It reminded her of her failure. She pressed her lips as she recalled his last words to her.
"You’ll know where to find me."
At that time she thought it was bravado, the rambling of a man looking at his end but now she wasn’t so sure.
An image of his confident expression appeared in her mind, and the mention of his sponsor who was supposedly willing to get him out.
Della rubbed her temples. A part of her wished she had taken his offer when she’d had the chance.
Whatever info he claimed to have on Specter would have been better than nothing. And if he tried to pull something, she could always deal with him.
She could already imagine her captain’s reaction if he knew she was still digging into this.
While she wasn’t willing to lose her job over a dead inmate, deep down, she hated unfinished cases.
And this one was becoming the biggest unfinished case of her career.
Her eyes returned to Nathan’s photograph.
Did his sponsor have something to do with the attack?
Della frowned.
No, that was ridiculous. At least she wanted to believe it was.
The attack had caused deaths. Guards, inmates: people who had nothing to do with Nathan but the timing bothered her.
Coincidence?
She shook her head. There was no way Nathan had access to that kind of connection.
It was more believable he used the chaos to his advantage and bribed the staff.
The pieces were slowly coming together in Della’s mind as she stared at the board.
She wrote a red question mark symbol on Nathan’s picture and set the marker down.
She considered reaching for a cigarette before finally taking one from the drawer. She lit it and sat on the bed, giving the board another glance.
Ping!
Her phone chimed with a notification from a Critter account she wasn’t following.
Their profile didn’t have much details aside from a picture and banner of the red-haired superheroine, Lady Might.
She opened the chat but there was nothing except a series of random words. She almost dismissed it as spam but as she examined the letters.
She realized they weren’t just random gibberish, they were ciphered. Someone had gone through the trouble of encrypting a message specifically for her.
Della’s expression hardened. The question was why?
She glanced at the profile.
What the hell are you trying to tell me?
She stared at the phone for a long moment before typing out a response.
[ Who’s this and what do you want? ]