The Breaking Point

Chapter 5

Tons of police cars aligned the road. Detective Gregory Smith stared gravely at the file in his hand. Telling him was going to be hard. Even though being a detective was never easy, he had to admit that in all the files he'd seen, all the deaths he'd witnessed, all the cases he'd investigated, this one would be the hardest. He nearly felt like quitting his job. His lifelong passion of piecing together clues and trying to find a culprit didn't seem very incredible anymore.

"Detective, you wanted to meet me?" A fat man approached the detective, his sunglasses gleaming in the moonlight.

"Coach Hillman, I've received a couple cases recently and I would like to discuss them with you."

The coach nodded. "But why do you want to talk here and why are all your men around Evans' house?"

The detective's expression darkened. "You need to tell the boy something I can't explain. He'll take it from you." He handed the coach the file.

"No, you're not serious."

"I'm sorry. But only you can tell Evans. His teammates are still recovering; I didn't expect them to be able to come. You have to tell him what happened."

The coach shook his head in grief and handed the file back to its owner. "Did you at least catch the culprit?"

"Unfortunately, no. But like I said before, there's a whole series of related cases and what's more, they all took place after Inazuma Japan returned to Japan."

"Suspects?"

"I would've had Dark on my list but then I'll just be accusing a grave. Garshield doesn't have any proof. The man's still in jail and will be for the next 6 years-if he doesn't die first!"

"So, not even a suspect?" The detective shook his head. "Well, I can't tell Evans that. You said it yourself: the team's recovering. They're down one player and you want to bring 'em down deeper."

The detective sighed. "Then who else should tell him? There's a lot to be done and I can't bear to see Evans cry."

"He'll cry all right, I know the boy. Detective, he's only a kid. Something like this shouldn't be broken to him like that."

"Well, his dad's in hospital and his grandfather's up in ICU with only a 10% survival chance. And that file told you everything else. Someone has to tell him. If you can't be a proper coach and do it yourself, then I'll have to."

Fighting like this was childish but their list of options was two inches long. None of them wanted the little captain mourning any more than he already had, but they both knew they didn't have a choice.

"Detective, Coach, what's wrong? Why are all these police cars parked here?"

Coach Hillman and Detective Smith turned to face the voice, and exchanged a look of guilt when their eyes landed on the owner. There was a split second when they were both as likely to make up a foolish lie as they were to 'act like men' and flee to the US. But both were at least 40 years old and pretty mature; they weren't going to play games.

"Evans, we have something to tell you." When the help the detective was silently begging for from the coach got declined, he turned to the file. Mark took the file gently.