I nod slowly, my gears turning. This has to be played just right. One misstep and he'll slither away again.
But if I can get the evidence we need...
"I want you leading point on this," Lynfield says. "You're my best agent for a job like this, Morello. If anyone can nail this bastard, it's you."
"I won't let you down," I say, meeting his gaze.
Lynfield claps my shoulder. "I know you won't, kid."
I close the file and tuck it under my arm, resolve steeling within me. This time, Gerald won't get away.
For his victims, and for all the lives he's destroyed, I'll bring him to justice.
No matter what it takes.
I take a deep breath as I step out of Lynfield's office, file in hand. Time to get to work.
I settle in at my desk, spreading out the contents of the file. Crime scene photos, witness statements, financial records. Piece by piece, the web around Gerald grows clearer.
I stare at his headshot again. Those cold eyes hiding behind an easy smile. Acting charming while he profits off innocence sold.
It makes my blood boil.
I think of the victims, mostly nameless faces in the reports.
The girls lured by false promises. The boys kidnapped from their homes. All just pawns to him.
My thoughts fly to my nieces and nephews, and what it might mean for them to be put in the same situation. It makes my blood run cold.
There are some sick fucks in this world with a penchant for vulnerable women and children, and as long as there's demand there will always be people like Gerald to ensure a continuous supply.
My jaw tightens as I pin his photo to the board. I'll find the thread that unravels this whole operation.
And I won't stop digging until every lead is exhausted, every stone overturned.
For now, Gerald still thinks he's untouchable. But that's about to change. I'll be the one to finally wipe that smug grin off his face. And when I bring him in, it'll be the end of the line. No more vanishing acts.
I crack my knuckles and get back to work, fueled by purpose. The long nights are coming, but it'll be worth it to show the world who Gerald Cranshaw really is. I won't stop until justice is served.
I sift through the files, searching for any thread I can pull. Bank statements, phone records, travel documents. I pore over them, piecing together a timeline.
Names and potential shell companies start to emerge, alleged fronts for Gerald's network. Suggesting money trails winding through jurisdictions, with many assets hidden under layers of obfuscation. It's hard to find definitive links or any actual proof.
But I'm patient, methodical. The picture slowly starts to come into focus.
As I study a cargo manifest, something catches my eye. A shipment to one of Gerald's warehouses from a port in Odessa. And listed in the contents—'agricultural equipment'. Gerald Cranshaw is no farmer. And my instincts tell me to dig deeper.
I pull up a case file on Anastasia and Bodahna Kerov. Two sisters, kidnapped from a village near Odessa before being smuggled abroad. My heart sinks as I put it together.
They were that 'equipment'.
Reading their statements, I'm struck by their courage. They survived hell but hadn't given up. That is, until their charred bodies were found a few miles out of the city in an abandoned warehouse.
They are no longer of any use to me, rest their souls, but if I can find others like them, they could blow this whole case open.
I feel a surge of determination. This isn't just about the job anymore. It's personal. I have to get the remaining women and children safely out of Gerald's reach. And prove to them there's still good left in this world.
I add pictures of Anastasia and Bodahna to the board. "I'm coming for you," I whisper to them. "Just hold on a little longer."