It all changed on a dime. One minute, I was a man of principle, a detective who believed in justice above all else. But on one of those classic cold, rainy winter nights in Vancouver, my world was turned upside down, and I was tossed to the wolves like so much trash.

I was called to a crime scene, a high-profile murder that had the entire city on edge. As I arrived, the flashing lights of police cars and the murmurs of the crowd created an eerie atmosphere. The victim was a prominent businessman, known for his shady dealings and powerful connections.

As I examined the scene, I noticed something odd. The evidence seemed too perfect, too neatly arranged. My instincts told me something was off, but before I could voice my concerns, my superior, Inspector Reynolds, approached me.

"Detective Umbrana. This whole thing stinks like rotten fish."

"It does. Zeke Hollerman was too smart to get himself killed off like this," I replied.

"Well, get on it. Hollerman just announced he was going to run for mayor. Get it cleaned up before the newspapers turn it into this year's drama," Reynolds demanded. "We have enough to deal with, with the election coming up and half the city ready to string up the candidates."

I was on it, but after a week, I was still stumped. Then one day, Inspector Reynolds came to find me while I was reexamining the crime scene.

"Kane, we need to talk," Reynolds said, his voice low and urgent. "There's something you need to see."

Reynolds led me to a secluded alleyway, away from prying eyes. There, he handed me a folder filled with photographs and documents. As I flipped through the pages, my heart sank. The evidence pointed directly at me. My fingerprints were on the murder weapon, my DNA was foundat the scene, and there were even surveillance photos of me entering the victim's office.

"This is a setup," I said, my voice trembling with anger. "Someone's trying to frame me."

Reynolds nodded. "I believe you, Kane. But you need to act fast. The higher-ups are already calling for your arrest, especially Leonard Blaneck. You need to go to ground, disappear until you can figure out who's behind this."

"Blaneck's a glorified gossip hound that calls his blog a news column, and he was going to back Hollerman."

Reynolds nodded.

I knew what I had to do and that I probably couldn't trust anyone, not even my closest colleagues. I had to become the hunter, to find the real killer before the fake evidence got embedded into the readers as real news.

I faded into the guts of the city and started searching for the creeps responsible for this setup, and I would make them pay.

I crawled like a wounded dog into the shadows and rain-soaked streets reflecting the neon lights like a twisted mirror. I had to get to the truth, and I had to find it fast and my first stop was going to be Hollerman's office. I knew the place would be crawling with cops, but I had to take the risk. I needed to see if there was anything they missed.

I slipped in through a back entrance, the shadows my only allies. The office was a mess, papers strewn everywhere, drawers pulled out and emptied. It looked like a tornado had ripped through the place. But I knew better. This was a deliberate act, meant to cover up something important.

I started sifting through the mess, my eyes scanning for anything that stood out. It didn't take long before I found it. A hidden compartment in Hollerman's desk, cleverly concealed but not cleverenough. Inside, I found a stack of documents, all detailing a complex web of corruption and deceit. Hollerman was more than just a shady businessman. He was the mastermind behind a plot to take control of the city, using the mob as his enforcers.

My heart pounded as I read through the documents. Names, dates, transactions - it was all there. Hollerman had been planning this for years, slowly building his empire and eliminating anyone who stood in his way. And now, with him out of the picture, the mob was scrambling to maintain control.

I had to go deeper, find the key players in this twisted game and bring them down. But first.

I thought, "It can't be the mob who aced their key man. Why would they wreck years of planning. Hollerman would have won the election by a land slide. The picture that had been painted of him was perfect, even down to a flaw in his character so he wouldn't seem to perfect. No one is. But the flaw was all humour since smoking a joint now was all nice and legal.

I slipped out of the office and into the night, the rain washing away any trace of my presence. I had a lead, a name that kept popping up in the documents - Vincent "Vinnie" Moretti, a notorious mobster with a reputation for brutality. If anyone knew the truth about Hollerman's plans, it was him.

I tracked Moretti to a seedy bar on the outskirts of town, a place where the scum of the city gathered to drown their sorrows and plot their next move. I watched from the shadows as Moretti held court, his goons surrounding him like a pack of wolves.

I waited for my moment, slipping into the bar unnoticed. I approached Moretti, my hand on thegrip of my gun, ready for anything.

"Moretti," I said, my voice low and steady. "We need to talk."

He looked up, his eyes narrowing as he recognized me. "Umbrana. I heard you were on the run. What do you want?"

"I want the truth," I said, my grip tightening on the gun. "I know about Hollerman's plans. I know he was working with the mob to take control of the city. And I know you're involved."

Moretti's face twisted into a sneer. "You think you can just walk in here and demand answers? You're a dead man, Umbrana."

"Maybe," I said, my voice cold as ice. "But if I'm going down, I'm taking you with me."

The bar fell silent, all eyes on us. I could feel the tension in the air, the threat of violence hanging heavy. But I didn't back down. I couldn't. I had to see this through, no matter the cost.

Moretti stared at me for a long moment, then finally nodded. "Alright, Umbrana. I'll tell you what you want to know. But it won't be pretty."

I listened as Moretti laid it all out, the full extent of Hollerman's plans and the mob's involvement. It was worse than I had imagined. The city was on the brink of chaos, and I was the only one who could stop it.

When Moretti finish his spew he said, "The city was a dark and dangerous place Detective Umbrana and you are already buried as for as the department is concerned. That evidence against you is rock solid. Even if it's a lie there's a dozen people ready to swear to it. And I can dig up a couple of eye witnesses if I have to."

And he was right, but I was determined. It wasn't about justice anymore. It was about survival. Mine.

I left the bar.Someone followed me out. I had that feeling soldiers get when they are heading into battle with a better chance of getting killed than going home.

I still had the files I found in Hollerman's office. That was going to help. At least most of it. Someone had slipped in a note for Hollerman. It read, "You better watch out. I know what you are doing." It wasn't signed of course but I recognized my own hand writing. I couldn't believe how much detail someone had gone to, to pin this on me. I realized that the files, even if they were real had been planted and were meant to be found, but not by me. By the cops, who screwed up.

"Why me?"

I turned into an alleyway. I knew it was a blind alley. I wanted it that way. Who ever was following me would think he had me cornered.

I went half way until I found a dumpster then took a stand. "Come and get me if you've got the guts." I said.

"You'll never get out Umbrana."

I recognized the voice and decided he was right. No matter what I did, if I didn't find the killer, the real killer I was going to be dead, probably the kind of dead that no one knows about. People get disappeared these days, more than we, even the cops realize.

It was my partner Larsen Bleem.

I didn't think twice. I made a noise and I heard a bullet rattle around the inside of the dumpster. Then I took my shot. Two of them. I had a silhouette to aim at. I put one shot in his shoulder and I heard the gun hit the ground. I put the second in his leg and he dropped. Then peeled out of there saying. "Next time I'll getserious and you'll get dead."

Every town and city has it's corruption factor, bad cops, bad politicians and bad business men. But it seemed at that moment so that gangsters are in the minor leagues ruling from the secret corners of this city.

I decided my best bet at winning this war was to use the one person who could bury me in fictionized news. Leonard Blaneck.

I paused and called 911 and reported a shooting. I didn't want Bleem dead. He was more valuable alive.

Then I called Blaneck and arranged a meeting. It was a risk. He might decided to be the hero and turn in a killer. A cop who turned political killer. But had to chance it.

He insisted I meet him at his office.

I heard an ambulance coming. I ran. The cops would be close behind.

***

Blaneck looked like he stepped out of a 1920s newspaper office and so did his set up except instead of a candle stick phone and a beat up old typewriter he had a cell phone, laptop and a desk model computer. His walls were filled with front page stories he'd sold to the rags.

Blaneck ushered me in to his sanctuary, closed and locked the door and said, "I am with you Umbrana. I know you're one of the good cops and I know how deep the corruption has gone."

I believed him. I gave him the file and for the next half hour as I rested he whistled and groaned and muttered. Then he said, Someone gave me a copy of the report that nails you as the killer." He showed me. It was an exact duplicate of the file folder Reynolds had showed me.

"Tell me it wasn't Reynolds." I said.

"I can't. I don't know who sent it." Blaneck answered. "But let's stir the hornet's nest."

Thegossip master started typing. I fell asleep. I hadn't slept since I talked to Reynolds three days ago.

It was daylight we Blaneck woke me with black coffee and a box of muffins and doughnuts and an ear to ear grin.

"My new story went viral and there are a lot of people scrambling for cover, but you're not off the hook. If we don't find the real killer of Hollerman they'll pin the whole mess, corruption and all on you." He chorused like he'd just won a Pulitzer. "But listen up. It's not all that bleak. You just have to prove it.

I know who had Hollerman killed and why. He got wind that his puppet strings were going to get clipped and the deputy mayor, a real mobster was going to take over. So he was going to back out, now Henry Cored, once upon a time deputy mayor is taking over."

Hollerman was going to come clean. Who killed him. Larsen Bleem. He's more mob than cop. Always has been. He's a plant."

"How much of that did you write up?" I asked.

"Just enough to cast a shadow of doubt and the whole mess." Blaneck replied.

"I put a couple of bullets in Bleem last night. He'll be down for the count for a while. I am going to break into his place. Maybe I can come up with something on him." I suggested.

"Forget that. His place is clean. I already had it checked." Blaneck said coyly.

"He's clean as whistle right." I groaned.

"Cleaner. Perfect cop record except for one thing. Money. Follow the paper trail. That's how it works. And it was him who planted that fake report."

"Someone in the coroner's office has to be in on it." I noted.

"Yup. An attendant who looks after the paper work." Blaneck replied. "Shelia Moretti."

"Related?!" Isaid.

"Cousin."

She the loose end to this gordian knot. If I can get to her we can bust this thing wide open and the truth will all come oozing out." I said thoughtfully.

Blaneck nodded.

In a minute I was back on the street running for my life into the flames of corruption.

I knew I had to act fast. With Blaneck's information and Reynolds' support, I had a fighting chance. My first move was to track down Sheila Moretti. If she was the key to unraveling this conspiracy, I needed to get to her before anyone else did.

I found Sheila at her apartment, a modest place in a quiet neighborhood. I approached her cautiously, knowing that she might be wary of anyone connected to the police.

"Sheila Moretti?" I asked, showing her my badge. "I'm Detective Kane Umbrana. I need to talk to you about Zeke Hollerman's murder."

Her eyes widened in fear, but she didn't slam the door in my face. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"I know you're involved in this, but I also know you're not the mastermind," I said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. "I need your help to bring down the people who are really behind this."

Sheila hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Come in," she said, stepping aside to let me enter.

Inside, she told me everything. She had been coerced into falsifying the coroner's report by her cousin, Vinnie Moretti, and Larsen Bleem. They had threatened her and her family if she didn't comply. She provided me with documents and recordings that proved her involvement and the pressure she was under.

With this new evidence, I contacted Blaneck and Reynolds. We needed to move quickly to arrest Bleem and Moretti before they could cover their tracks. Reynolds arranged for a warrant, and Blaneck used hismedia connections to ensure that the story would be publicized, putting pressure on the corrupt officials involved.

We coordinated a raid on Bleem's hideout. Reynolds led the operation, and I was right beside him. We stormed the place, catching Bleem and his goons off guard. Bleem tried to fight back, but he was no match for a team of determined officers. We arrested him and found more incriminating evidence linking him to the murder and the conspiracy.

Next, we went after Vinnie Moretti. He was holed up in a luxurious penthouse, surrounded by his enforcers. It was a tough fight, but we managed to break through and take him into custody. Moretti's arrest was a significant blow to the criminal network that had been controlling the city from the shadows.

With Bleem and Moretti in custody, Sheila Moretti's testimony, and the evidence we had gathered, we were able to clear my name. Blaneck's articles exposed the corruption within the police department and the city's political landscape, leading to a massive cleanup effort.

In the end, justice prevailed. The city began to heal, and I was reinstated as a detective. Reynolds and I continued to work together, determined to keep the city safe from those who would seek to exploit it.

It was Blaneck who dubbed me El Lobo Pasa. And he promised to make me famous.