Maybe I should have run, or headed for the hospital, or called the cops. But I didn't. I was angry. I wanted to catch whoever shot at me, so I went out to nail the shooter.

Ignoring the throbbing pain in my shoulder, I pushed myself up from the floor and stumbled towards the shattered window. The street outside was deserted, but I caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure disappearing around the corner. With a grimace, I took off after them.

The chase was a blur of adrenaline and determination. My breath came in ragged gasps, my shoulder screamed in protest, but I didn't slow down. The figure ahead was fast, but I was faster. I could see him now - a tall, burly man, his face obscured by a hat pulled low over his eyes. A sergeant's hat.

I pushed myself harder, my shoes pounding against the pavement. The distance between us was closing. I could almost reach out and grab him. And then, with a burst of energy, I lunged.

We crashed to the ground, a tangle of limbs and curses. I managed to pin him down, my hand closing around his wrist. "Who are you?" I demanded, my voice hoarse. "Why did you shoot at me?"

He didn't answer, his face hidden in the shadows. But I didn't need to see his face to know who he was. The sergeant's hat was enough. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. The sergeant. The one who had been so eager to close the case. The one who had been there at every turn, watching, waiting?

I called Inspector Normandy. She was a sleep but hearing my story woke her up fast. "On my way Len."

It didn't take her long and she brough the cavalry with her.

As the sirens wailed inthe distance, I sat back on my heels, my mind whirling. This was bigger than I had thought. Bigger than a former mayor with a fabricated past, bigger than a secret diamond mine. This was about corruption, about power, about a conspiracy that ran deeper than the darkest corners of the mine. It involved the police, the people we are supposed to trust.

And I was smack dab in the middle of it and I wasn't backing down. Not now. Not when the truth was within my grasp.

The sirens grew louder, and the flashing lights painted the street in shades of red and blue. The cavalry had arrived. They swarmed the scene, securing the area and apprehending the shooter. I watched as they hauled him away, his face still hidden beneath the sergeant's hat.

Inspector Normandy was at my side, her face a mask of concern. "Len, we need to get you to the hospital," she said, her voice firm. I nodded, feeling the adrenaline start to wear off and the pain in my shoulder intensify.

As the paramedics rushed me to the emergency room, I could see the chaos unfolding behind me. Sergeant Waites, in a desperate attempt to escape, had grabbed a gun. There was a struggle, a shot rang out, and then silence.

By the time the police got him to the hospital, he was in critical condition. His last words before slipping into a coma were chilling, "She's her." Those words echoed in my mind, a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit yet.

Inspector Normandy. "Who the hell is he talking about?"

"The real boss of this mystery Len. It the only logical answer."

I thought about that for a minute then, "Charla Bay."

Normandy nodded.

"But how?oh?her body was never found. Of course. So where is he hiding." I asked.

"Not exactly inplain sight as the saying goes, not until you compare notes and faces." Normandy replied amused. "It's quite the caper and yes a big fat conspiracy to get the diamonds and ?

To be continued?.