The air grew heavy with tension. No words had been spoken yet, but the silence alone carried the weight of seriousness between the two men seated across from each other—both lost in thought. One waited patiently while the other carefully sifted through a stack of documents spread across his desk.
Roland had a lot on his mind. He had been summoned to the office of the Commissioner of Police, and now, as he sat there waiting, his instincts told him that this conversation would be a significant one.
The Commissioner, who had been reviewing the files with a focused intensity, finally paused. Slowly, he lifted his gaze toward Roland. His expression was unreadable, but Roland immediately knew that his attention was now required. Refusing to be intimidated, he met the Commissioner's stern gaze head-on. His own eyes burned with a fierceness that could set even the Commissioner ablaze.
A loud but mild cough followed as the Commissioner leaned forward and began speaking.
"Detective Roland, I know you've been deeply analyzing the case at hand. Given your reputation as a genius detective, I trust that your judgment and understanding of this situation are sharp. Now, I need you to shed light on how we can get to the root of this and put an end to that deranged man who's been taking lives."
Roland let out a silent cough, a subtle prelude to the weighty words he was about to deliver.
"To be frank, sir, this case has become far more complex than I initially envisioned. We now know that Officer Campbell has been identified as the serial killer—a revelation that has left his colleagues, and even both of us, in complete shock. The idea that the killer was under our noses all this time raises two possibilities: either we were incompetent, or he was simply far more intelligent and ahead of us in every move we made."
He paused, observing the Commissioner as he absorbed his words.
"But something feels off," Roland continued, his voice dropping slightly. "I can sense it, and my instincts have never failed me. Don't you find it strange—almost too convenient—that he revealed his identity so easily? He wasn't discovered by accident. The officers reported that his face was in clear view, and he was still wearing his police uniform. Why now, of all times, would he suddenly expose himself as the serial killer?"
Roland leaned forward slightly, his voice carrying the weight of his suspicion.
"A logical serial killer—especially one who's a police officer—would take every measure to remain undetected. He would kill his victims in a way that ensures no one ever suspects him. And let's not forget, Officer Campbell is a family man. Would he really allow his loved ones to see his face on the news, branded as a murderer? It just doesn't add up, does it?"
The Commissioner, now lost in thought, rubbed his chin. "Yes, I see your point," he admitted. "You're making a lot of sense, Roland. I feel like you're on to something, but I can't quite grasp it yet. What exactly are you implying? What do you think is happening here that we aren't seeing?"
Roland exhaled slowly, his mind piecing together the puzzle. "I believe it's all a distraction—designed to mislead us. And we're falling for it."
He let his words settle before continuing. "You may not be aware, sir, but I had given Officer Campbell a task. Two days ago, at around 8 p.m., a suspicious vehicle was spotted near Mr. Nwafor's house. I had predicted that the serial killer might make a move, so I instructed certain officers to monitor the homes of potential victims. To avoid drawing attention, I told them to cover their uniforms and watch from inside regular vehicles. That way, the suspect wouldn't realize he was being observed."
Roland paused briefly before delivering the next part.
"Fortunately, Campbell was one of the officers assigned to Mr. Nwafor's house, and he did see a suspicious car that night. He called me immediately, and I instructed him to do only two things: write down the vehicle's plate number and secretly take a picture of it. I specifically warned him not to confront or follow the suspect, as we still didn't know how dangerous this killer truly was. If the driver of that car was indeed our serial killer, any direct confrontation could have provoked a lethal response."
Roland's voice grew grim. "Unfortunately, that was the last time I heard from Campbell."
The Commissioner's expression darkened. "And from what I later gathered from other officers, he wasn't seen again that night. No one knew where he went until the next morning when he suddenly appeared—this time as the so-called serial killer."
The room fell into a deep silence as the weight of Roland's revelation sank in.
The Commissioner sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. He exhaled through his nose, as if finally catching onto what Roland was implying.
"Hmm… I think I see where you're going with this," he muttered. "So, you're considering the possibility that Campbell ignored your warning—that he did follow the suspect, but something happened to him. Maybe he was captured, manipulated, or even forced to play a role in whatever this is?"
Roland nodded but hesitated. "That could be one possibility," he admitted. "But there's something else that bothers me. One of Campbell's colleagues mentioned that he was strangely skilled that night. He moved with a level of precision that none of them had ever seen before. His shots were almost too accurate—far beyond what was expected of him."
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. "Officer Campbell was an average officer. His colleagues knew his capabilities, and he was never someone who stood out for exceptional combat skills. Yet, that night, he managed to take down four out of seven officers by himself. Can you imagine that? The police—armed and backed—were forced into a defensive stance because of one man. Now, tell me, Commissioner—do you really believe that was Campbell?"
The Commissioner drummed his fingers on the desk, his brows furrowed.
"It sounds unbelievable," he admitted. "But the officers saw his face. What more evidence could we need?"
Roland's eyes narrowed. "That's exactly it, sir. The face is the only thing they saw. But under the chaos and pressure of the moment, did they carefully analyze his physical build? His height? Did they truly confirm it was him beyond just facial recognition?"
A slow realization dawned on the Commissioner. "You think it wasn't him at all," he said.
Roland nodded. "I suspect the man they encountered that night was the actual serial killer—only, he had Officer Campbell's face."
The Commissioner's jaw tightened. "If that's the case, then Campbell is either dead… or barely alive," he murmured.
"Exactly," Roland confirmed. "The only way to know for sure is to investigate him properly. We need his DNA and compare it to the serial killer's. If there's a match, then we'll know we're dealing with Campbell. But if there isn't…"
"Then we have a far more terrifying mystery on our hands," the Commissioner finished.
A heavy silence followed before the Commissioner stood up. Extending his hand, he gave Roland a firm handshake.
"Detective Roland, you've proven once again why you're invaluable to this case. We need to act fast."
Roland returned the handshake. "I'll figure out a way to draw the real killer out. This game of tag has gotten messy, but I refuse to lose. This is the biggest case of my career—and I intend to solve it."
The Commissioner gave a rare smile. "Good luck, Detective."
As Roland turned to leave, he clenched his fists slightly. "Just you wait," he thought to himself. "We'll get a hold of you once and for all." And with that, he closed the door behind him.