Journalist Vincent Cortez was found murdered in his home via a gunshot wound to the head, allegedly slain by his young wife, but the speed of the investigation and the relative silence of reporting surrounding the incident never sat right to police detective Elaine Seol, who handed the case off to her childhood friend and colleague private detective Brad Asher, if for no other reason than simple peace of mind. Now it's up to the two of them to quickly discover what truly happened that night and stop it before another life is claimed, or worse.
Journalist Vincent Cortez was found murdered in his home via a gunshot wound to the head, allegedly slain by his young wife, but the speed of the investigation and the relative silence of reporting surrounding the incident never sat right to police detective Elaine Seol, who handed the case off to her childhood friend and colleague private detective Brad Asher, if for no other reason than simple peace of mind. Now it's up to the two of them to quickly discover what truly happened that night and stop it before another life is claimed, or worse.
âThought youâd never show up,â Elaine muttered as Brad finally walked into her apartment.
âI had to take a shower and change,â Brad replied in an annoyed tone. âI didnât want to show up smelling like beer, especially that rancid stuff they sell down at the Steel Ball.â
âYou shouldnât knock it. It grows on you after a while.â Elaine chuckled.
âI hate the taste of beer anyway. Maybe Iâll check out their wine selection next time Iâm there for pleasure. Whenever that is.â
âOnce a snob, always a snob,â Elaine muttered.
âWhat? I donât like beer and I always feel awkward in that place. You know about a third of their customer base has tried to kill me, right?â Brad fired back defensively.
âOh, come on, they have other stuff to drink, itâs not that bad. I go in there all the time and people donât hassle me, and Iâm pretty sure Iâve arrested all of those same people.â
âYeah, yeah, the difference being you have an entire squad of police officers who would kindly rearrest every single one of them if something happened to you. Iâve got no such backup.â
âYour choice to not come forward about our friendship here.â
âWe can! Eventually. It just doesnât feel like the right time yet. Iâm still not sure how to go about mixing business with pleasure publicly. At any rate I feel like my clientele might be a bit hesitant to trust someone whose primary informant is a police officer.â
âCome on, donât act like you came here just so you could live out of your office as a private investigator. You came for me, and we both know that.â
Okay, so the âbeing oneâs own boss thingâ was only half the reason.
âSpeaking of mixing business and pleasure, though, I know weâre off the clock and you donât like to talk about work off the clockâŚâ
Here it goes, Brad thought, preparing himself for another chew-out session regarding the man who got injured. You need to show more restraint. You need to be careful of people getting caught in the crossfire. Blah blah blah. It was all stuff he had heard before.
âI have a request for you thatâs off the books.â
âLook, Iâm sorry--wait what?â Brad blinked. Well, this isnât what I was expecting.
âI have an anonymous request for you as Brad Asher the detective. One I definitely canât make as a police lieutenant.â
âI...umm...Iâm listening.â
They sat in silence for a bit while Elaine searched for the words.
Brad shifted uneasily in his seat at Elaineâs table. âSo whatâs the request?â he pressed, hoping that that might spur the conversation along.
Elaine leaned forward, sighing. âThereâs no easy way to put this. Thereâs a murderââ
Brad quickly interrupted, âNope, I donât do murders, you know that.â
âYou didnât even hear the full details,â Elaine muttered.
âIâm not sure I need to hear the full details,â Brad replied, frowning. âYou know how badly people react when I investigate them for small stuff. I donât even own a gun, how the hell am I supposed to protect myself from a murderer? Youâre the police officer, why arenât you guys investigating it?â
âWe did,â Elaine responded defensively.
âExcuse me?â
âThe department did investigate it,â she said more firmly.
Brad sat silently for a bit, before finally saying, âOkay, letâs start at the beginning.â
Elaine leaned back and cleared her throat.
âSo, you know the evidence officer, Jill Cortez?â
Brad stopped to think, trying to remember all the different members of the police force he had had the chance to speak with. âYeah, I think you introduced me to her when I first moved here, but I havenât really dealt with her much otherwise. Why?â
âWell, the official story is that she killed her husband, the reporter Vincent Cortez.â
Brad recoiled. He had worked with Vincent in the past, as reporters made for great info brokers and rumormongers, but he hadnât put two and two together that Vincent was married to Elaineâs colleague Jill. But something had felt out of sorts in the last couple weeks. Recently Brad had noticed that Vincentâs columns in the local newscasts were rather quiet, but no official word had gotten out.
âWhen did this happen?â Brad asked, showing more sincere interest.
âOnly in the last couple weeks. Iâm not surprised you didnât know, though, because the department is trying to keep a lid on it. Thatâs one of quite a few things that have made me raise an eyebrow.â Elaine took a drink from the wine she poured at the beginning of the conversation. âThe more I think about it, the less sense it makes.â
Brad leaned forward. âWell, what else can you tell me? How did he die? Did they have a poor relationship? Where is Jill now?â
âTheyâve still got Jill in custody. The whole thing is fishy, though. The secrecy, as well as this coming out of the blue. As far as I know, they had a great relationship, but the official cause of death is blood loss from a gunshot wound. The ballistics profile matches her personal .45. And the weapon itself was confiscated and examined, and while it was obviously covered in her fingerprints, no other prints were found on the weapon.â
Brad frowned. âSeems like a pretty open and shut case. Whyâs the department being so secretive about it, then?â
âThatâs what bugs me! They shouldnât need to!â What composure Elaine had had up to this point melted away to a combination of frustration and grief.
âOkay, you might have convinced me. Have you talked to Jill at all since she was detained?â
âOnly a little, but she wonât give me a straight answer to any of my questions.â Elaine sighed. âShe seems like sheâs all but given up, though who could blame her?â
âSounds like she could use a lawyer more than a private investigator,â Brad muttered thoughtfully.
Elaine rolled her eyes. âBrilliant deduction, Sherlock. If only I was wise enough to have considered that myself! Do you have a recommendation? Because I sure as hell donât.â
Brad reeled back at the sarcastic outburst. âOkay, okay, Iâm sorry, I didnât mean it like that. I mean Iâm not sure what I can add to the investigation.â
âJust a quick run-through to find anything we missed. Maybe since youâre not affiliated with the police force, Cortez will actually answer your questions.â Elaine sank into her seat.
After a bit, Brad finally said, âOkay, Iâll at least see if I can ask her a few questions. Still, this is an off the books, possibly dangerous investigation. And since youâre already breaking my policy about talking about work outside of work...letâs talk about payment.â
âDonât worry, I can swing it. Baseline 50,000 plus an added premium of 100,000 for danger involved. I understand you have to keep the lights on and pay for your own healthcare in the event that something goes wrong. Naturally, payment on completion of the task as usual. I really had to dip into my savings for this so donât half-ass the investigation, or Iâll know.â
âDo I ever?â Brad asked.
âDo you really want me to answer that?â Elaine fired back, playfully.
Brad paused, before finally saying, âFair enough. Well, itâs getting late and even though this investigation is off the books, I still have a bunch of stuff to organize to begin the case, so I think Iâm going to head back to my place. Will you be able to let me into the detention center tomorrow to speak with Cortez?â
âIâll see what I can do.â
---
The office of Brad Asher, Private Investigator, in a stark contrast to Elaineâs neat, recently-built apartment building, was in a dingy, older part of the colony, being one of the few places Brad could get a decent lease with what little money he had upon moving to the colony. The interior wasnât much, just three rooms: the main lobby/office area, a modest bathroom with a shower compartment, and a smaller private office which Brad mainly used as his personal quarters. There wasnât much to it: a futon for sleeping, a viewscreen for whatever news or entertainment broadcasts he would peruse, a small wardrobe with what little clothing he brought with him to the colony, and a mirror. That he barely used. That one was a gift. The gift that kept on giving, as he was constantly reminded of how disheveled and tired he looked.
Because he mainly used the âprivate officeâ for sleeping, he spent most of his time in the main room, where he had a cheap desk that he had to assemble himself when he purchased it, a computer that worked just well enough that he could get his work done without having to bang on it too much, and a couple couches in the sitting area that were, in all honesty, significantly more comfortable than his own futon. To the point that he often slept on them when he was feeling particularly lazy or had had too much to drink. From the ceiling hung another viewscreen in the vain hope that he could entertain any extra clients waiting for his attention. Should that day he had extra clients waiting for his attention ever arise. But since most requests came through email anyway, this was more or less a wasted feature. Maybe he could use it to host friends when the big game was on.
Should the day he had friends to host who all had the same sports interests ever arise.
Upon arrival into the office, Brad began his evening ritual. Lock the door. Boot up the computer to check for messages. No messages. Put some music on the speakers throughout the office. A little jazz. Take a shower. An extra few minutes. Heâd earned it. Check the news. Nothing noteworthy besides an interview with Valentine about Bacon Boy. Poor kid was probably going to be spending quite a while behind bars for that slipup. Shame.
And yet, slow news day as it was, there was absolutely no coverage of Vincent Cortez. Surely someone would at least put up a memorial broadcast. Right? Instead it seemed like every news source on the colony (and several off-colony) were trying their best to pretend the man never existed to begin with.
I guess that settles it. Hopefully I donât make too much of a nuisance of myself at the police station.
Itâs the 23rd century. The solar system has grown into a network of inter-connected planets and their moons, and living entities dwell in several terrestrial and orbital locations all across space. Those who once lived on Earth comprise Earth Federation, i.e., all locations in space inhabited by entities (humans) who originated from Earth. Epiphany Colony, for instance, is a location orbiting Mars thatâs Earth federated, so humans live there. Everything about Epiphany Colony strongly reminds you of life on Earth: people work and live in towns and cities, there are criminals and so there are cops, and there are detectives, journalists, accountants, doctors, lawyers, computers, networks, spacecraft, and so on... only they are over two centuries ahead of us in science, medicine, technology, etc.
The Epiphany Colony: The Murder of Vincent Cortez by Aaron Cahoon is a gripping Sci-Fi detective thriller set in Epiphany Colony in the 2200s. Vincent Cortez, a journalist, is found murdered in his home and they charge his wife Jill, a gentle police officer (and highly unlikely killer) with the crime. The police hold Jill in a detention center and strangely keep the case tightly under wraps. Intrigued by some facts of the case that show that it might be an âinsideâ job by the police themselves, Jillâs colleague in the force, Lieutenant Elaine becomes suspicious. Unable to help Jill directly since sheâs a cop herself, Elaine turns the case over to Brad Asher, a private detective and a close friend since school days for investigation.
Although categorized as a Sci-Fi Crime Thriller, I didnât come across much in the book that you could call Science Fiction. Of course, one is talking of the entire solar system, interconnected planets, moons, asteroids, etc. which is a huge, different canvas compared to the relatively small space occupied by Earth and her moon, but thatâs of little relevance to the story. Therefore, as it is, I prefer to treat it primarily as a crime thriller, and an excellent one at that!
This book has a great plot, which is powerfully gripping. It hooked me right from the beginning and held my interest so strongly that I found it hard to put down even for essential breaks. The language used isnât loud or forceful, rather itâs graceful and stimulating. Looks are good and I particularly liked the generous paragraph spacing that enhances readability.
I recommend this book highly for lovers of the C/T/M/H (Crime, Thriller, Mystery, Horror) genre, but as it stands, NOT for pure Sci-Fi readers. It is also for people who need a diversion, like passengers in transit and those who spend long hours in places of rest/recreation like parks and beaches.