Chapter Nine — The Old Partner - She Drove Him Into the Dark
By Hasnainhr
Daniel stared at Marcus Vale’s name on the seizure record as though the letters might rearrange themselves into something less impossible. Maya had seen suspicion on his face before, anger, frustration and the careful neutrality he wore whenever she asked a question he did not want to answer. This was different. For the first time, Daniel Reid looked as though something he had trusted for years had cracked beneath his feet.
Sophie broke the silence first. “Who is Marcus Vale?”
Daniel locked the secure phone and slipped it into his coat. “Detective Superintendent. Homicide.”
“That tells me his job,” Sophie said. “Not who he is.”
Daniel looked toward the dark television screen. “He was my partner for seven years.”
Maya remembered her father’s recording. Somebody close enough to Daniel to see what he saw.
“How close?”
Daniel’s expression tightened. “Close enough that he was best man at my wedding.”
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Maya finally asked, “You’re married?”
“Divorced.”
“That wasn’t really the important part.”
“I know.”
Elaine folded her arms. “Marcus still working Major Crime?”
Daniel nodded. “Executive command now. He oversees several investigative teams.”
“Including yours?”
“Not directly.”
Elaine gave him a look.
Daniel corrected himself. “Not officially.”
Sophie leaned against the reception desk. “And his authorisation code just moved Maya’s car to the exact safe house where Michael Carter hid eight years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Yet you still look like you want to explain this away.”
“Because codes can be stolen.”
“So can trust,” Maya said.
Daniel looked at her.
She continued, “You told Marcus about my father.”
“Yes.”
“Did he know about Linden Street?”
Daniel hesitated.
Maya already knew the answer. “Of course he did.”
“He helped secure it.”
“Did he know about the investigation?”
“Most of it.”
“The corrupt officers?”
“Yes.”
“Victor?”
“Yes.”
“The missing archive?”
“No.”
Maya raised an eyebrow.
Daniel corrected himself again. “Not from me.”
The distinction did nothing to reassure her.
Sophie asked, “Where is Marcus now?”
Daniel checked his phone. “According to the roster, at the Northbank scene.”
Maya looked toward the television. “Where Noah just conveniently became Victor’s killer.”
“Yes.”
“And my car is supposedly sitting at Linden Street under Marcus’s authority.”
“Yes.”
Sophie gave a humourless smile. “That’s an impressive morning.”
Daniel ignored her and called a number from memory.
Nobody answered.
He called again.
Voicemail.
Elaine said, “If you think Marcus is compromised, stop ringing him.”
“I need to know whether someone cloned his credentials.”
“And if he did it himself?”
Daniel looked at her.
Elaine continued, “Then every call tells him exactly how worried you are.”
Daniel lowered the phone.
Maya watched him. “You don’t want it to be him.”
“No.”
“Because he was your partner?”
“Because if Marcus is involved, the damage is bigger than Victor, Michael or one murdered security contractor.”
“How big?”
Daniel looked at her. “Marcus has had access to active homicide investigations for more than twenty years.”
The implications settled slowly.
Witness names. Surveillance plans. Evidence locations. Suspects. Confidential sources. Families.
Maya remembered the photographs taken of herself and Luke nine years earlier.
“If my father was right…”
Daniel finished the thought. “Then somebody may have been feeding information out of Homicide for nearly a decade.”
“Or longer,” Elaine said.
Sophie looked at Daniel. “And you never noticed.”
Daniel’s eyes hardened. “People who survive inside police corruption for decades generally become good at not being noticed.”
Maya picked up her father’s recorder from the desk. “Then why move my car to Linden Street? That’s not subtle.”
Daniel considered it.
“It could be bait.”
“For me?”
“For all of us.”
“Then we shouldn’t go.”
Daniel looked at her.
Maya added, “Which means we obviously are.”
Elaine sighed. “You’re beginning to sound like him.”
She pointed at Daniel.
“That is deeply upsetting,” Maya said.
Daniel ignored both of them. “We don’t approach Linden directly. First we confirm the car is actually there.”
“How?”
“Traffic cameras.”
Sophie shook her head. “The same system someone has been accessing?”
“Not the public road network. Private cameras.”
Twenty minutes later Elaine had produced an old laptop that had never been connected to police systems. Daniel used it to access publicly available business cameras around Fitzroy, then called two contacts without explaining why he needed footage. One owned a café near Linden Street. The other ran overnight security for a construction site.
At 4:58 a.m., a flatbed tow truck appeared on the café camera.
Maya leaned closer.
Her Camry sat on the back.
“There.”
Daniel froze the footage.
The tow truck turned into Linden Street.
Two minutes later it appeared on the construction camera entering number twenty-four.
“Someone really took it there.”
Daniel checked the registration of the tow truck.
“Private contractor.”
“Police contractor?” Maya asked.
“Yes.”
“Who requested it?”
“Electronic order using Marcus’s credentials.”
Sophie asked, “Can you contact the driver?”
Daniel was already doing it.
The driver answered after several rings.
Daniel put the call on speaker but did not identify himself immediately.
“Morning. I’m calling about a collection from Southbank earlier today. Grey Toyota Camry.”
The driver sounded half asleep. “Who is this?”
“Victoria Police.”
A pause.
“You guys already signed for it.”
“Who?”
“Detective.”
“Name?”
“Didn’t ask.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened. “Male or female?”
“Male.”
“Description?”
“Tall bloke. Maybe fifties. Grey coat.”
Daniel looked at Maya.
Marcus’s publicly available photograph showed a tall man in his mid-fifties.
“Did he show identification?”
“Badge. Paperwork matched the job.”
“Did he give a name?”
“Think it started with M.”
Sophie whispered, “Marcus.”
Daniel held up a hand.
“What happened to the vehicle?”
“Dropped it inside the garage. He signed and I left.”
“What time?”
“Five-oh-six.”
Daniel checked the clock.
Less than an hour ago.
“Was anyone else there?”
The driver hesitated. “Woman.”
Daniel’s eyes sharpened.
“What woman?”
“Younger. Dark hair. Didn’t see much.”
Maya looked at Sophie.
Sophie shook her head. “Not me.”
Daniel asked, “Anything unusual?”
“Mate, it was five in the morning and a cop was paying me to move a car. That’s the definition of normal in my job.”
The call ended.
Daniel stood.
“We go.”
Elaine immediately said, “No.”
Daniel looked at her.
“You just established somebody matching Marcus’s description may be waiting at a compromised safe house with Maya’s vehicle,” Elaine continued. “Walking in there with two civilians is not investigative brilliance.”
“I’m not taking them inside.”
Maya laughed. “We’ve covered how well that works.”
Daniel looked at her. “You stay in the vehicle.”
“No.”
“Maya.”
“My car is there, my father hid there, and somebody who knows both of those facts wants me to come. I’m not sitting around while everyone else decides what I’m allowed to know.”
Sophie said, “She’s right.”
Daniel looked between them. “I miss cooperative witnesses.”
“You never met one,” Elaine said.
They left ten minutes later in Elaine’s white sedan. She drove. Daniel sat beside her. Maya and Sophie remained in the back. The sky was beginning to lighten, but Melbourne still felt trapped between night and morning. Rain had stopped, leaving empty streets shining beneath traffic lights.
Maya held her father’s silver key in one hand.
Sophie noticed. “You think Linden is part of the route?”
“No.”
“Then why bring it?”
“Because everything important tonight seems to disappear when I leave it behind.”
Sophie looked toward the window. “Fair.”
Maya studied her profile. “You still haven’t explained the token.”
“I told you what I know.”
“You said Victor told you when to return the key. My father’s recording said you knew what the second piece was. You pretended you didn’t.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t trust Daniel.”
“And now?”
Sophie glanced toward the front seat.
“I trust him more than I did two hours ago.”
Daniel heard her. “A glowing endorsement.”
“Don’t get excited.”
Maya asked, “Why did you accuse him of killing Victor?”
Sophie became quiet.
Daniel did not turn around.
Maya continued, “You held a sign against his car window. That wasn’t grief talking. You had a reason.”
Sophie watched the passing buildings.
“My father called me at 1:03 this morning.”
Maya sat straighter.
“Before I picked him up.”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“That if Daniel contacted me before sunrise, I shouldn’t believe anything he said.”
Daniel muttered, “Victor always had a sense for drama.”
Sophie ignored him. “Then he said if he ended up dead, there were only three people who knew where he would be.”
“Who?”
“Me. Elliot Mercer. Daniel.”
Maya looked toward Daniel.
He remained facing forward.
Sophie continued, “An hour later Victor was dead. Daniel found me before police had publicly identified the body.”
Maya frowned. “How?”
“That was what frightened me.”
Daniel finally turned. “Because Victor texted me his location.”
Sophie looked at him. “After you spent half the night telling me you didn’t know where he was going.”
“I didn’t until the message.”
Maya asked, “When did he send it?”
Daniel’s face tightened.
“2:11.”
Maya remembered the timeline.
She had dropped Victor around 2:10.
“What did it say?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Daniel.”
He opened his secure phone, found an archived screenshot and passed it back.
Victor’s message contained only two lines.
Kew. Lane behind 18 Warringa Street.
Come alone. Don’t trust Sophie.
Maya read it twice.
Then handed it to Sophie.
Her face went pale.
“He told you not to trust me?”
“Yes.”
“And he told me not to trust you.”
“Yes.”
Maya leaned back. “Victor really enjoyed leaving everyone emotionally stable.”
Daniel said, “He was creating separation.”
“Why?”
“That’s what I’m trying to understand.”
Maya remembered his behaviour inside her Camry. Victor had seemed frightened, but every decision now looked prepared. Different route. Different drop-off. Tracker. Decoys. Messages. Conflicting warnings.
“He wanted you and Sophie suspicious of each other.”
Daniel nodded. “Possibly.”
“Maybe because he knew one of you was compromised.”
Sophie looked at him.
Daniel replied, “Or because he needed both of us acting independently.”
Elaine turned into a narrow Fitzroy street.
“Two minutes.”
Conversation stopped.
Linden Street looked ordinary in daylight. Renovated terraces, small apartment blocks, trees dripping rainwater onto parked cars. Number twenty-four was a narrow two-storey brick property set slightly behind its neighbours. From outside, nothing suggested it had once hidden a frightened police witness.
Elaine drove past without slowing.
Maya saw no tow truck.
No Camry.
“Where’s my car?”
Daniel looked back. “Garage behind the property.”
They circled once.
A rear laneway provided access through a roller door.
Closed.
Elaine parked two streets away.
Daniel said, “You three stay here.”
All three women stared at him.
He corrected himself. “Elaine stays here with Maya and Sophie.”
Elaine smiled. “Better.”
Daniel checked his firearm and left.
Maya waited exactly forty seconds.
Then opened her door.
Elaine locked it electronically.
Maya looked at her.
Elaine held up the key fob. “I knew you’d do that.”
Sophie almost laughed.
Maya said, “Daniel could be walking into a trap.”
“He knows.”
“That does not make the trap safer.”
Elaine watched the mirror. “Give him three minutes.”
At two minutes and seventeen seconds, Daniel called.
Elaine answered on speaker.
“Rear garage is open. Car’s here. No visible occupants. Stay where you are.”
Maya exhaled.
Then Daniel said, “There’s something on the windscreen.”
“What?”
Silence.
“Daniel?”
His voice became quieter.
“It’s addressed to Maya.”
That ended any chance of her remaining inside the car.
Elaine sighed and unlocked the doors.
“All right. We do this together.”
They reached the rear garage less than three minutes later.
Daniel stood beside Maya’s Camry.
No visible damage.
No broken windows.
Nothing missing from the outside.
A white envelope had been placed beneath the driver-side wiper.
MAYA CARTER was written across it in black ink.
Maya reached for it.
Daniel stopped her.
“Photograph first.”
“You’re learning how I feel.”
He photographed it, then handed Maya gloves.
She opened the envelope.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
Not typed.
Handwritten.
Maya recognised the writing immediately.
Her father’s.
Her hands began trembling before she read the first word.
May, if Daniel brings you to Linden Street, something has gone wrong.
Daniel leaned closer.
Maya continued.
He promised me this address would never be used again. If your car has been brought here, assume someone inside Victoria Police knows about the archive. Do not tell them where you are going next.
Sophie whispered, “Michael knew this could happen.”
Daniel’s face had become unreadable.
Maya read the final lines.
Before you follow the route, check the boot. Victor knows why.
Maya looked toward her Camry.
Daniel said, “Don’t.”
She was already moving.
The boot remained locked.
She pressed the button on her key.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
Daniel tried the manual release beside the driver’s seat.
Disabled.
“Battery?”
Maya checked the dashboard.
Lights worked.
“Someone disconnected the boot actuator.”
Elaine walked around the rear. “Can we access through the back seat?”
Maya folded down the centre armrest and removed the small panel behind it.
Through the opening she could see darkness.
Something large occupied the boot.
Not luggage.
Covered in black plastic.
Maya stepped back.
Daniel saw her face.
“What?”
“There’s something inside.”
He looked through the opening.
His expression changed instantly.
“Everyone back.”
Sophie whispered, “What is it?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel called it in.
This time he used a unit outside his normal homicide chain, requesting bomb response and forensic support without explaining the wider case. Twenty minutes later, technicians opened the boot manually from outside.
No explosive.
The black plastic contained a suitcase.
Old.
Brown leather.
Maya recognised it.
“That was Dad’s.”
Daniel looked at her.
“He used it for work trips.”
The same suitcase Michael Carter had supposedly taken to Sydney when he was actually hidden at Linden Street.
Maya’s stomach tightened.
Forensics opened it.
Inside were clothes.
Men’s shirts.
A shaving kit.
Old receipts.
Exactly what someone would pack for eleven days away from home.
Sophie said quietly, “He left it here.”
Maya touched nothing.
At the bottom of the suitcase lay a sealed evidence envelope.
Daniel read the faded label.
M. CARTER — PERSONAL EFFECTS.
“That isn’t police packaging from this case,” Elaine said.
“No,” Daniel replied. “It’s old.”
Maya looked at him. “Who packed Dad’s things after he died?”
Daniel’s expression shifted.
“Police attended his office.”
“Why?”
“Because of his witness status.”
“Who collected his personal effects?”
Daniel seemed reluctant to answer.
Maya knew before he spoke.
“Marcus.”
Daniel nodded.
The envelope was opened carefully.
Inside was a small spiral notebook.
Michael Carter’s handwriting filled the pages.
The early entries were ordinary. Insurance claim references. Company names. Dates. Amounts.
Then the entries changed.
Initials.
Police badge numbers.
Meetings.
Payments.
Daniel turned pages without touching them directly.
“Your father was documenting the investigation independently.”
Maya pointed to one line.
P.V. — confirmed.
Paul Vance.
The corrupt detective who later died by suicide.
Farther down:
Second officer uses M. Need proof. V says not D.R.
Sophie leaned closer. “M.”
Marcus.
Maya felt Daniel go still beside her.
They turned another page.
M has access to witness addresses. Test required. Gave three different addresses to three officers. Only Linden compromised.
Daniel whispered, “No.”
Maya looked at him.
“What?”
“Michael never told me he ran a test.”
“What test?”
Daniel took a breath.
“He gave different versions of information to different investigators to see which one leaked.”
“Who got Linden Street?”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Marcus.”
Nobody spoke.
Maya looked back at the notebook.
Another entry appeared two days later.
Linden observed 01:42. Black sedan. M may be compromised. Do not confront. Need Victor to verify.
Sophie whispered, “He knew.”
Daniel shook his head. “Suspected.”
Maya turned the page.
The next sheet had been torn out.
Then another.
Four pages missing.
The following entry was dated six days before Michael died.
Victor says second officer is not Marcus. Someone is using his access.
Daniel stared.
Sophie frowned. “So Marcus wasn’t corrupt?”
“Maybe not.”
Maya continued reading.
M’s credentials accessed without him. Person inside Homicide using multiple identities. V frightened. Says if I continue, family becomes target.
Another entry.
Daniel does not know. Keep it that way until I identify who sits above Vance.
Daniel looked almost wounded.
Michael had hidden part of the investigation from him too.
Maya turned the page.
The final entry was dated the night before her father’s death.
Only one sentence.
I know who it is.
Below it, instead of a name, Michael had written:
Ask who signed the Brighton file.
Daniel stared at the words.
Maya remembered the article she had seen earlier while researching him.
“Brighton.”
Daniel did not answer.
“The financial adviser murder you investigated last year?”
“No.”
His voice was barely audible.
“This refers to another Brighton case.”
“When?”
“Nine years ago.”
Maya waited.
Daniel looked at Elaine.
She already seemed to understand.
“What case?” Maya asked.
Daniel said, “A woman named Rebecca Wynn was found dead in her Brighton home. It was originally treated as burglary gone wrong.”
“And?”
“She was an accountant.”
“For who?”
Daniel looked toward Sophie.
“Hale Urban Group.”
Sophie went pale.
“My father never told me.”
Daniel continued. “Rebecca had been reviewing internal payments for Victor.”
Maya asked, “Was she connected to my father?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She was supposed to meet Michael the morning after she died.”
The garage seemed suddenly smaller.
Maya looked down at the notebook.
“Who signed the file?”
Daniel did not answer.
“Daniel.”
He finally said, “Marcus and I investigated it.”
Maya stared.
“Which one of you signed it?”
“Neither.”
“Then who?”
Daniel looked genuinely disturbed.
“Our supervising inspector.”
“Name?”
Daniel took several seconds before answering.
“Henry Shaw.”
Elaine’s face changed.
Maya noticed.
“You know him?”
Elaine said nothing.
Daniel looked at her. “Elaine.”
She walked away from the suitcase.
“Henry Shaw retired twelve years ago.”
Daniel frowned. “Nine.”
Elaine shook her head.
“No, Daniel. Officially he retired nine years ago. He stopped working cases three years earlier after a medical leave.”
“What are you saying?”
Elaine looked at Maya.
“The Henry Shaw who supervised Rebecca Wynn’s homicide investigation should not have been working.”
Daniel’s expression hardened. “I saw him.”
“I know.”
“You knew him too.”
“Yes.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
Elaine took a slow breath.
“Because I performed Henry Shaw’s post-mortem.”
Nobody moved.
Daniel stared at her.
“What?”
“He died eleven years ago.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I was there.”
Daniel stepped toward her. “Henry signed my reports for two years after that.”
“Then somebody else was using his identity.”
Sophie whispered, “Inside Homicide.”
Maya looked at her father’s words again.
Person inside Homicide using multiple identities.
Daniel sat heavily on the edge of a workbench.
For perhaps the first time, Maya saw his entire understanding of the old investigation collapse.
“If Shaw was dead…”
Elaine finished quietly, “Then someone had access not only to police credentials but personnel records, signatures and internal systems.”
Maya asked, “Did you report Shaw’s death?”
“Of course.”
“Then how could police think he was alive?”
Elaine’s expression darkened. “That is what I would very much like to know.”
Daniel took out his secure phone.
Maya said, “Who are you calling?”
“Records.”
Elaine grabbed his wrist.
“No.”
Daniel looked at her.
“If someone maintained a dead inspector’s identity for years, the system itself was altered. The moment you search Shaw, whoever did it may know.”
Daniel slowly lowered the phone.
Maya looked at Michael’s notebook.
“Dad said to ask who signed the Brighton file. Maybe that was his proof.”
Daniel nodded. “The signature belonged to a dead man.”
“Which means whoever actually signed it had access to Shaw’s identity.”
“Yes.”
Sophie asked, “How many people could do that?”
Daniel thought.
“Very few.”
“How few?”
“Personnel command. Internal systems administrators. Certain senior investigators.”
Maya noticed something.
“And homicide executives.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Yes.”
The garage door suddenly began closing.
Everyone turned.
Daniel drew his weapon.
Elaine moved toward the control panel.
“I didn’t touch it.”
The door descended steadily.
Sophie backed away.
“Someone’s controlling it remotely.”
The lights went out.
Darkness swallowed the garage.
Maya heard Daniel swear.
Emergency lighting failed too.
A second later, the Camry’s headlights came on by themselves.
Maya stared.
The car was off.
Keys in her hand.
Yet the headlights burned brightly into the garage wall.
Then the horn sounded once.
A laptop screen inside the Camry illuminated.
Maya had never left a laptop there.
Someone had placed it on the passenger seat.
A message appeared in enormous white letters.
STOP DIGGING INTO THE DEAD.
Daniel approached carefully.
The screen changed.
MICHAEL DIDN’T. LOOK WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM.
Maya felt her stomach tighten.
Another line appeared.
VICTOR DIDN’T.
Then:
NOAH DIDN’T.
The final message remained longer.
DANIEL IS NEXT.
Daniel stared at it.
Maya looked toward the sealed garage door.
Somebody was close enough to control the building.
Close enough to know what they had discovered.
Then the laptop screen changed one final time.
A live video feed appeared.
Luke sat at his kitchen table in his apartment.
Unaware he was being filmed.
Maya stopped breathing.
Across the bottom of the screen appeared six words.
FOLLOW THE ROUTE, AND LUKE DIES.