Part 48: Basement Office

The basement of the police station loomed before me, a cavernous space carved from stone and steeped in the weight of history. As I ventured deeper into its depths, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over me like a shroud.

The sight of numerous police officers milling about only added to my sense of trepidation. It became clear that this basement served as a hidden enclave for law enforcement, a secret bastion nestled beneath the facade of the official police station above.

Among the throng of officers, my eyes locked onto the figure of the mysterious gunman, his presence a curious anomaly amidst the sea of blue uniforms. Memories of our encounter on the streets flooded back, the woman's photograph still fresh in my mind, a haunting reminder of the enigma that surrounded him.