CHAPTER 89: MARTIN INVESTIGATES EDGAR’S CRASH

As soon as Martin arrived in Starstream City, he drove straight to the site of Edgar’s accident. The road was quiet, lit only by a few dim streetlights.

He bent down and placed a single white rose at the edge of the scene, bowing his head for a moment in quiet respect before rising to his feet.

Then he turned back toward his car, scanning the empty road as if the ghosts of that night might step into view.

The incident had happened around this same hour of the night.

Martin reached into his bag and pulled out his special camera. He moved slowly across the asphalt, stopping at each angle, each corner, capturing the scene frame by frame.

The old investigator’s photos weren’t bad, but he never trusted inherited conclusions.

He recreated the entire process himself, following the original procedure as well as his own methods.

After the photos, he walked to the point where Edgar’s car had come from. He stood there, imagining the headlights cutting through the night.

Then he moved to the exact spot where the vehicle was first struck—kneeling, measuring the angle with his eyes.

He crossed the road and positioned himself where the second car would have been. He stared across the dark street, trying to see what the other driver would have seen.

Then he circled the area, looking for any detail that might have been left behind. It was unlikely, since the case was already years old, but he checked anyway.

He stayed for over an hour until he was satisfied.

Only then did he leave, already planning to return the next day to repeat the entire sequence in daylight.

The next morning, he came back to the site. The road was quiet even in daylight. After completing his inspection, he headed to the police station.

The officer on duty looked up briefly as Martin entered. Only when Martin approached the desk did he speak.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Martin showed his investigator’s license. "I’d like to review an old case file."

The officer nodded, took the license, and typed Martin’s details into the system. After confirming its validity, he returned it to him.

"Right this way."

He led Martin toward the back of the station, to the section where archived case files were kept.

After unlocking the storage room, the officer guided him to the drawer holding Edgar’s case.

"This is Edgar Hale’s accident file. I’ll leave it open for you. If you need anything, just press the ### button and it’ll connect you to the front desk," the officer said before stepping back.

Martin studied the case, going through one page after another. It didn’t take him long before he pressed the ### button to call the officer back into the room.

He spread all the reports across the table and pointed at them.

"Is this the complete documentation?"

The officer frowned and checked each file carefully.

"Yes. This is everything we have. These files have been here for years," he replied.

Martin rubbed his jawline as suspicion crept into his mind. The files had never seemed sufficient from the start, which made it obvious that the officer hadn’t done his job.

"Is the officer who handled this case still serving at this station?" Martin asked.

The officer picked up a file and checked the name of the policeman responsible.

"No," he said. "He retired early and moved to the neighboring town."

"Any address I can reach him at?"

"Yes, I do. Let’s go to the front desk and I’ll give it to you."

Martin began gathering the files into his arms. "I’ll take all of these with me."

"Yes, sir. You’ll just need to fill out a form at the front desk."

It took a long time before Martin arrived at a secluded house at the foot of the hill on the edge of town.

Earlier, he had visited the address the officer had provided, a luxury apartment in the next city.

But the unit already had a new owner, and the neighbors told him the previous resident had run into financial problems and had been forced to sell it.

They also gave him his new address, the very place where he now stood.

The rough path to the house forced Martin to leave his car by the roadside and walk along a narrow trail lined with tall grass until he reached the small house.

Standing a short distance from the door, he rested his hands on his hips and took in the surroundings.

He wondered why the former officer had chosen to live so far from everything. The house even looked old and worn.

Around it were small patches of plants, almost as if he was growing only what he needed to survive.

If he truly had financial problems, he could at least have worked as a security guard. With his experience, getting a job like that should have been easy.

Something about this man didn’t sit right.

"Excuse me, is anyone home?" he called out.

A grumble came from inside the house, and the door swung open, revealing a stout woman.

"What now?" she said, barely hiding her annoyance.

"Does Paul live here?" Martin asked.

She kept one hand on the doorknob, glancing inside the house before looking back at him.

"Come in," she said, motioning him inside, though her expression made it clear she wasn’t pleased.

She held the door open for him, and a sharp, unpleasant odor hit his nose the moment he stepped inside.

His eyes landed on the state of the place. It was cramped and cluttered, and a man lay sprawled on a worn sofa, seemingly still drunk from the night before.

The woman left the door open and walked over to the man.

"Wake up, Paul! Someone’s here!" she shouted.

Paul stirred and mumbled but didn’t fully wake.

The woman looked at Martin and said, "He’s still drunk. If you’re here to collect a debt, I don’t have money to pay."

"A debt?" Martin repeated. "From gambling?" He was only guessing, but it hit the mark when she nodded.

"Yes... he’s been gambling since long ago, but now that he no longer has a job, he’s turned into a chronic debtor. He is an idiot."

Now... that explained everything. Paul had needed money, and someone had bought his silence by tampering with the report.

"I have something to ask him. How about I give you some money, and you go out for a walk? Come back in two hours."

The woman’s eyes lit up at the mention of money, but then she shook her head.

"No, no, no... give me the money and take him with you. Just make sure he doesn’t come back and I’ll keep my mouth shut."