Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMDG0JHZGWJMEDWT5Z60EQ

Detective Harlow Quinn crouched beside the body, ignoring the damp seeping through her trouser knees. The abandoned Tube platform wasn't her usual crime scene territory, but something about this one had raised flags with her superintendent. Beneath the harsh portable floodlights, she studied the victim's splayed fingers, the odd angle of the limbs. "Looks pretty straightforward to me," Detective Sergeant Chen said from behind her. "Jumper, probably high on something. Wouldn't be the first time someone's broken into an abandoned station for a bit of urban exploring gone wrong." Quinn's jaw tightened. She'd heard that tone before – the one that said this was a waste of time, that she was chasing shadows again. Just like with Morris. "Notice anything unusual about his clothes?" she asked, gesturing to the victim's attire without touching it. Chen shrugged. "Bit posh for a junkie. Proper tailored suit, expensive watch." "Not that." Quinn pointed to the man's breast pocket. "Look at the brass object." The small compass lay half-exposed, its casing dulled with a distinctive green patina. Even in the artificial light, Quinn could make out the intricate etchings on its face. She'd seen something similar once before, in the evidence photos from Morris's last case. "Some kind of antique?" Chen ventured. Quinn stood, her knees protesting. "Maybe." She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she found the number she needed. The one Morris had given her, back when she'd thought he was just being paranoid. The forensics team worked methodically around them, photographing and bagging evidence. Quinn paced the platform's edge, her worn leather watch catching the light as she gestured. "The body position's wrong for a jumper. Look at the impact pattern. He was already dead when he hit the ground." "Could've been pushed," Chen offered. "From where? This station's been sealed for decades. No access from the upper levels." Quinn paused, studying the curved tunnel walls. "And where's the blood?" "What?" "Impact this severe should have left a significant blood pattern. But look – barely any spatter. Like he was drained before he was dumped here." Chen shifted uncomfortably. "I'll add it to the report. But you know how the super feels about... unusual theories." Quinn's phone buzzed. A text from her contact at the British Museum – Eva something. The redhead who worked in the restricted archives. The message was brief: "Found reference to similar compass. Need to meet. Urgent." "Handle the scene," Quinn told Chen. "I need to follow up on something." "Quinn..." Chen's warning tone stopped her. "Don't go down another Morris rabbit hole. We all miss him, but—" "Three years," Quinn cut him off. "Three years since my partner vanished, leaving nothing but a brass compass with weird markings and a notebook full of ravings about some underground market. And now we have this." She gestured to the body. "Same compass design. Same lack of blood. Same impossible circumstances." "Coincidences happen." Quinn checked her watch. Nearly midnight. "Not like this they don't." She pulled out her warrant card, double-checking it was secure in her jacket pocket. "If anyone asks, I'm running down a lead about antique dealers in Camden." The walk to her car gave Quinn time to think. Morris had mentioned Camden in his notes – something about the market moving with the full moon. She'd dismissed it then as the ramblings of a man under too much stress. But now... Her phone buzzed again. Eva: "Meet at the usual café. Bringing relevant texts. Watch for followers." Quinn started her car, mind racing. The victim's compass, the location, the full moon tonight – it was all connecting, forming a pattern she'd been blind to before. Morris hadn't been crazy. He'd been onto something, something big enough to get him killed. Or worse – taken. As she pulled into traffic, Quinn glanced in her rearview mirror. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw something move in the shadows, something that didn't quite match the normal play of light and darkness. But when she looked again, it was gone. The piece that had been missing from Morris's case was finally sliding into place. She didn't know what this underground market was, or how it connected to her partner's disappearance, but she had a feeling Eva Kowalski's research was about to fill in some crucial gaps. And this time, Quinn was ready for whatever impossible truth awaited her. She just hoped she wasn't too late to prevent another victim from joining the growing list of impossibilities that seemed to center around a small brass compass and an abandoned Tube station beneath Camden.