Princess of the Silver Ocean - Chapter 78

(This chapter is based obefore Astoria transmigrated and will focus on her catching a drug dealer who is a suspect in the murder of a nineteen year old boy. This is aimed for you to see how she goes about cracking a case and arresting a criminal. Enjoy!)

“Okay. Shoot!” Astoria said as she sat in the police station’s cafeteria with Officer Stan sitting opposite her.

He opened his notebook. They were currently investigating a murder case and the suspect was a supposed drug dealer.

“According to a source that wishes to remain anonymous,” he read the notes in his notebook, “he likes to go to the Misty Pear Bar every Tuesday and Thursday.”

She opened the cover of a box stacked with papers. She picked out one paper. It was the suspect’s personal information.

“He is in his 30’s and used to work for New Corporate Financial Group, a bank firm,” she stared at Officer Stan, “But he was fired three months ago because of misconduct.”

“Any family?” Officer Stan asked and she nodded.

“A wife and ten year old boy,” she bit her lip.

She carried on reading the suspect’s other information.

“It says here that he was charged for shoplifting, but the owner of the shop later dropped the charges,” she pressed her lips together and looked at Officer Stan who was deep in thought.

“Do you think he may have threatened the owner?” she asked him.

“It is possible,” Officer Stan sighed, “Now, back to Misty Pear Bar.”

“Oh, right,” she put the paper on the table.

“He goes there at around 6 PM and the time right now,” he looked at his watch, “Is 4 PM so we should start driving.”

She groaned.

“It’s a one hour drive to Arcadia,” she sighed as they stood up.

The Misty Pear Bar was located in another city in Arcadia. The only reason the case was not being solved there was because the station was packed with multiple cases and all officers were occupied. And so the station needed help. That was how the case was handed to Astoria and her partner, Officer Stan.

“You ready to go undercover?” he asked her.

She chuckled as they stepped into her car.

“You know me,” she started the engine, “I am always ready.”

They arrived in Arcadia at quarter past five as they had to stop at a store to buy undercover clothes and had to face traffic along the way. When they stepped outside of the car, they were no longer Astoria or Officer Stan. They were fully disguised. She had worn an elegant looking dress and high heels with her hair down. He had worn a simple, stylish suit and had on a fake moustache.

“Gotta love the thrift shop,” she told him as she scanned their clothes, “Who knew we would find such clothes for a cheap price?”

Officer Stan chuckled, nodded, and smiled.

“You ready to do this?” she asked him.

His smile turned mischievous.

“Yeah,” he said, “Let’s kick some butt.”

They stood outside the bar. From the outside it looked enchanting and cozy. Softwood and hardwooden tree trunks made up most of the building’s outer structure. It was tough to see through the small, curtained windows, but the clinking of beer glasses from within can be heard outside. As they entered the bar through the old, hardwooden door, they were welcomed by the feelings of comfort and laughing voices. This was the Misty Pear Bar.

When they sat by the counter, the bartender was swamped in work, but still managed to welcome them with a smile. It was as engaging inside as it was on the outside. Rounded, wooden beams support the upper floor and the light fixtures attached to them. The walls are loaded with hundreds of memorabilia, all signed and most likely donated by customers. The tavern itself is packed. Tourists seem to be the primary clientele here, which often means great company. Several long tables are occupied by locals, travellers, foreigners and anybody else who wishes to join.

The other, smaller tables are also occupied by people who seem to be close with the owner, though they happily welcome others among their midst. Even most of the stools at the bar are occupied, though nobody seems to mind more company. She did hear rumors about this bar. Supposedly, it was famous for something, but she could not remember what for. However, judging by the angelic voice who just started singing, it must be famous for this singer. She managed to find a seat in front of the singer and prepare for what will undoubtedbly be a busy evening.

“That is our source,” she whispered to Officer Stan who sat next to her.

He turned to her, his eyebrows raised.

“What? Are you sure?” he asked, staring at the singer.

She nodded.

“My gut tells me so and she seems to be looking for someone as she is singing,” she told him and looked around.

“You watch her and I will watch the door,” she instructed Officer Stan, “As soon as her face lights up, tell me because her eyes are glued to the entrance now.”

Officer Stan nodded and kept his gaze fixed on the singer who seemed to be in her early twenties. She wore a long red dress, and her blonde hair was all curled up. She looked like Marilyn Monroe. That was how beautiful she was.

Customers eyes were glued to her as they were mesmerised by her voice. Astoria watched as multiple people came through the entrance, but the man she was looking for still had not arrived.

“Where are you, big guy?” she mumbled, biting her lip.

About ten minutes passed and the singer as now singing a new song. Just then, the suspect came through the door.

“Her face!” Officer Stan exclaimed, nudging Astoria.

“Our guy is here,” she told him.

“But why did she give us information about him that could potentially cause him to go to jail when it looks like she is madly in love with him?” Officer Stan asked.

“I do not know,” she replied, shrugging, “A guilty conscience maybe? Besides, the person that died was a child who still had a whole life ahead of him.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Officer Stan shrugged.

The suspect sat at the back and watched the singer sing. She could tell that he was listing over her as his posture remained the same throughout the whole song the singer sang. When the song was over, the singer bowed and everyone clapped their hands. She left the stage and the suspect got up, walking to the backstage.

“Let’s go,” Astoria ushered Officer Stan.

They stood up and followed closely behind the suspect. They later found him and the singer at the back alley of the bar having a deep make out session.

“Hate to break up this lovely moment,” she said, standing with her arms crossed, “But I need to have a word with you Mr. Yorkshire.”

The suspect suddenly pushed the singer and ran. Astoria sighed and nodded at Officer Stan.

“We got a runner,” she told him, “His house is near here so if my gut instinct is right, the man is dumb and will head to his house to get rid of the weapon he used for his crime.”

“How are you so sure?” Officer Stan asked her, his eyebrows raised.

She clapped her hands.

“My gut is never wrong. Let’s go.”

They stood outside the suspect’s house and, boy, was it a house! From the outside this house looks lavish. It has been built with spruce wood and has sandstone decorations. Small, octagon windows brighten up the house and have been added to the house in a fairly symmetrical pattern. The house is equipped with a small kitchen and two modern bathrooms, it also has a small living room, five bedrooms, a large dining room, a library and a grand garage.

The building is shaped like a short U. The two extensions are linked by glass overhanging panels. The second floor is the same size as the first, which has been built exactly on top of the floor below it. This floor has roughly the same style as the floor below.

The roof is low and v-shaped and is covered with red ceramic tiles. Two small chimneys poke out the center of the roof. Several long, thin windows let in plenty of light to the rooms below the roof. The house itself is surrounded by a well kept garden. Grass, flower patches and trees have been placed in a stylish way.)

(The pain flared once more and every muscle in their body tensed up. Straining to keep standing they waited for the pain to subside once again, as it has done hundreds of times before. An overwhelming feeling of dread took over and for a moment they thought the pain would only get worse and worse. For a second they considered listening to their body which was telling them to stop, to just give up and drop to the floor.

They massaged their temples and for a moment tried to block out all the pain in order to press onward. On any other day they probably would’ve gone to bed and rested to make sure they’d heal well and fast, but not today.. Today was a day of pushing the limits.)