I haven’t stepped foot in the small town of Haypayne Bay for 10 years. After I left, I vowed that I would never return, not for anything. I truly thought that I would never see the familiar grey-brick buildings of Haypayne Bay ever again, but I was very wrong.
It was my mother who told me the news, early on Tuesday morning. I listened to her shaking voice as she told me the tragic news of how my childhood best friend, Devin Michaels, had been found dead and the police were suspecting murder. When I heard that last part, I felt my entire body freeze up.
I had seen a lot of murder cases before. That comes with the career description of big-city detective, after all. But somehow, even after all of those years of working on gruesome murder cases, I never really imagined that it could happen to someone that I knew.
What really sealed it for me was my sister’s call a few days later. She begged me, pleading hysterically down the line, to come back to Haypayne Bay. She and I both knew just how incompetent the local police force was down there. We both wanted true justice for Devin. That’s when I knew, that despite my personal history with Haypayne Bay, I had to go back.
Haypayne Bay was even more desolate and run down than I had remembered. While it had only been 10 years, the town seemed like it had aged hundreds of years. I just wanted to figure out what happened to Devin, and then get out of there.
The Haypayne Bay police force were in complete disarray, and seemed relieved to find out that a detective from the city would be aiding them with the investigation. They hadn’t even began to check for witness statements yet, or even CCTV footage, and it had been days.
I paired myself up with the Haypayne Bay police chief, a man called Thomas. He was an older man, and seemed grateful for any help that I was willing to give. The same day that I arrived, the two of us were out in the deserted streets of Haypayne Bay, looking for witnesses.
After days of work, we were unable to find anything. I had endured several sleepless nights in my sister’s guest bedroom, just trying to figure it out. I was a top detective, from the city, but yet I hadn’t found a thing that could lead me to Devin’s killer.
Weeks went by, and I was spending a lot longer in Haypayne Bay than I had originally expected. The only notable lead that the police force had were some unidentified tire tracks, and a smudge of blood that was still being tested for DNA. The search was not looking promising.
Any time that wasn’t spent working on the case, I spent with my mother and sister. After not seeing either of them for 10 years, it felt good to talk to them, and spend time with them again. We hadn’t spent time as a family for a long time.
In fact, the reason that I became a detective in the first place was because of my mother and sister. When I was 9 years old, my father had been tragically killed, and the mediocre Haypayne Bay police force had not been able to find a shred of evidence. I could tell how it wrecked my family, not getting justice for my father. That’s when I decided to become a detective. Because I couldn’t let another family be torn apart like mine had been.
That’s why solving Devin’s murder was so important to me. It gave me another chance to get justice, to figure it out. He was my childhood friend. I couldn’t give up on him.
Thomas and I worked from every angle, sending a forensic team from out of town back to the crime scene, to scan for any evidence that had not been picked up. We both worked hours overtime, often staying at the police station all night, trying to figure out the case.
Somehow, in all of that time spent with Thomas, I began to find a sort of companionship in him. I began to learn his muddled way of going through evidence, so used to working solo that he often forgot to tell me when there was a new lead in the case.
I had been at Haypayne Bay for several months, my residence in my sister’s guest bedroom becoming a sort of normality. My mother and I got used to our weekly visits to Haypayne Bay’s only cafe, and we enjoyed the time spent together.
There was a moment of despair when I thought that I’d never solve the case, never get justice for Devin, until one night, when Thomas and I were working late as usual, and I noticed something. Something that could quite possibly change everything.
“We have to figure this out,” I muttered to Thomas, reading through the notes of the case for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Where’s the forensic report? I need to look at it again.”
Thomas passed me the forensic report, silently. He was the sort of person who preferred to work in complete silence.
I rifled through the pages, looking for the evidence on the crime scene. There was nothing found, even still. I flicked to the last page, a report on the body. Just your standard forensic murder report. Nothing out of the ordinary that could lead us to figure out who Devin’s killer was.
I still re-read the notes, skimming lightly over the large paragraphs. Just the usual content. Signs of struggle, stab wound, bruising to the legs. There was one small detail that caught my eye, just for a second. The date that the body had been found. Wednesday, 16th November, 10:08am.
“Thomas?” I asked, breaking the silence. “I think there’s a mistake on the forensic report. It says that you found the body on Wednesday.”
Thomas looked up. “We did,” he nodded. “Wednesday 16th November, early in the morning if I remember. It’s not a mistake.”
“It has to be,” I say, shaking my head. “My mother called me on Tuesday to give me the news. I remember it so clearly. It was Tuesday.”
“It can’t have been,” Thomas told me, shaking his head. “My officers found the body on Wednesday. It says so right there in the report. Maybe you’re not remembering it right.”
“No, that’s not possible,” I replied. “My mother definitely called me on Tuesday. I remember.”
Just as Thomas was about to respond, a junior officer opened the door slowly, peering around it. “I’m really sorry to disturb you,” he said. “But we have a situation in the waiting room.”
“What is it?” I asked him. “We’re really busy right now.”
“It’s to do with the Devin Michaels murder case,” the officer replied, seriously. “We just had a walk-in confession. It’s an older woman.” The officer looked directly at me. “She requested to speak to you.”