The Midnight Files #3 : Cross & Vance
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The Daily Word #44 — July 8, 2026 — internal (words 400)
Detective Vance entered St. Bartholomew’s Internal Medicine wing. Dr. Mateo Alvarez, briefly suspected during the radio killings, kept an office that felt half-laboratory, half-museum. Julian Cross was already there, leaning against a leather armchair.
“Detective Vance,” Alvarez said pleasantly. “I’ve wanted to meet the man who keeps surviving Julian.” Cross glanced over. “He’s persistent.”
“There’s a difference,” Alvarez replied softly.
Vance’s gaze fell on a shelf of yellowed codices. “You collect first editions?”
“Mostly medical texts,” Alvarez said. “The interesting ones stopped being printed.” Cross glanced toward the shelf. “You finally organized them.” Alvarez smiled. “No. I finally understood the order they preferred.”
On the desk lay photographs of four dead men from St. Jude’s.
“You knew them?” Vance asked. Alvarez didn’t look up. “They kept confusing faith with evidence.”
“People assume hematology is the study of blood,” Alvarez added, gesturing to the dark decanter between them.
“Most people assume many things,” Cross murmured. Alvarez poured a small glass. Cross offered a polite refusal.
“Still abstaining?” Alvarez asked.
“Professional courtesy,” Cross said, a faint, dry smile touching his lips. Vance watched them. They spoke like colleagues. They looked like strangers.
“You’ve always had expensive taste, Julian.”
“An occupational hazard.”
“Still judging vintages?”
“Only when invited.”
Walking past them toward the brass-lined refrigeration unit set into stone, Vance noticed condensation beading on a single heavy drawer. Someone had opened it recently.
Vance pulled the lever. Cold air rolled out. Rows of meticulously labeled vials lined the trays — except for one empty slot near the back, where frost was melting.
“What was here?” Vance demanded.
“An impossible specimen,” Alvarez said, setting his glass down. “How impossible?” Vance asked. “Every laboratory reached the same conclusion,” Alvarez replied quietly. “It shouldn’t have existed.”
Cross stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the blank tray label. He ran a single index finger through the melting frost.
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“Someone finally realized what it was,” Cross whispered. He stared at the empty space for a long moment. “I hoped he’d forgotten. I was clearly mistaken now.”
Vance frowned, his hand resting near his coat. “Who?”
Alvarez spoke quietly. “There was only one man who ever asked to see that specimen. Decades ago. I never learned his name.”
Cross looked at the blank card where the vial had sat. For the first time since Vance had known him, Cross was not smiling.
“I did,” Cross said softly.
Written for Frequency Daily Prompt — Day 44. The daily word was internal.
Archivist’s Note
This report has been added to The Midnight Files. Readers wishing to examine earlier evidence should consult Dead Air and Invitation Only before proceeding.
Further case files will be released as they are… recovered.
A special thanks to Sunita Chakraborty for opening the door to Daily Word sequels, and to Poet In The Arctic for today’s prompt.
And now some delightlful, recent, publications by
Maria Rattray (I can assure you Dr Alvarez does)
and, Sudarsan K Das
