by Kristen Rose
*
Detective Peter O’Connell paces backwards and forth, backwards and forth, from one end of his dark wooden office to the other. Each trip lasts a few short seconds. Jaw stern, eyes focussed, fists clenched. Plump, webbed veins bulge out through his skin. His focus alters for a second as his eyes dart to the generic clock high above the door. They catch the clock in time to see its thin hands shift; the long one stretches up towards the twelve and the short one tilts down towards the eight.
O’Connell ceases lapping the room, strides over to his desk, diverts around it and peers through a narrow window out onto the lengthy street. The traffic stretches down endlessly, head to tail. O’Connell scans the cluttered mass of metal and lights for the familiar sight of flashing red and blue. He lets out a sigh; his blue eyes reflect only yellow light. He turns and slowly sits down in front of his miniature desk, picking up a golden pen resting amongst a disorganised stack of papers. He fiddles with it, mesmerised by the reflection of moonlight bouncing off the pen’s glossy surface. Time flows, his mind remains bewitched by the beauty of the pen.
His focus remains unaltered until a dull knock on the door forces him back. He drags gaze away from the reflecting gold and looks up towards the door. He stares through the glass window and observes his colleague; still, patient, waiting for a reply.
O’Connell glances at the golden pen one last time and places it back amongst the papers. As he does this, his eyes move with purpose towards a photograph. It rests in the centre of O’Connell’s chipped desk; isolated. Two hours ago he had pulled the photograph out from the bottom of a deteriorating cardboard box, now dumped in the far corner of the hollow office. The words ‘THROW OUT’ written across the top of it in faded black ink. The photograph is of a woman; a woman with an enticing smile, flowing dark hair and emerald eyes.
Her name is Jennifer Barns.
#1 The Brown File