Developing photographs from film began falling out of practice after the advent of digital cameras. Being able to edit photographs electronically and have access to them instantly was a great boon for many, but Tielo enjoyed developing his own film. There was a certain elegance in the technique and a timeless quality about the photographs that could not be matched by digital photography. Today, he set about developing his photographs from yesterday’s hike.

Gathering up the developed photos, he slipped them into his bag and left the dark room. Dashing through the offices out front, he muttered brief greetings to the employees. A small bell chimed his departure via the front door.

His runners beat along the sidewalk as he moved quickly around the other pedestrians. Each crosswalk was a brief delay as he made his way across before the light announced it was safe to cross. Barely ten steps passed and he was looking at his watch again and again, the minute hand creeping along the face.

Breathlessly, he pushed through a glass door into a mostly-empty building.

Instantly the sharp tang of oil, turpentine, and lacquer reached his nose. His nose scrunched at the unpleasant smell that lingered in its passageways. A concrete floor opened wide before him, amplifying conversations almost at the end of the room. A bare, industrial ceiling stood some twelve feet above him with strategically placed acoustic panels to dampen some of the noise. Three stand-alone walls broke up the larger room into 4 smaller sections, each painted white. Every available wall space was covered with art – prints and paintings – and the floor was taken up by various statues. While the room was mostly empty, it was filled with millions of dollars in art.

“Tielo, not right now,” a woman’s voice began from a small desk off to his left.

“I’ve got great shots this time! You gotta take a look at these, Aisling. They are fit for the gallery, I promise.” He covered the distance to the desk in four swift strides.

“That’s what you said last month. And the month before. And the month before that. We’ve looked at your photographs; we’ve analyzed your photographs. They’re good for an amateur, but they’re not quite the quality for our gallery. I’m sorry.” She moved to step from behind the desk, stretching one arm towards the door while the other rested gently on his shoulder.

“Aisling, please, take a look. These are far better than any I have taken before. You won’t regret it.”

Aisling paused. It was more than his pleading; there was something in his voice that she couldn’t place. It was more than the note of confidence; that had always been there. It was more than his insistence; he was one of the most persistent artists she had ever dealt with. It was more than the look in his eye; a look of hunger hung there that she had never seen before.

“Look, Tielo… I will look this time, but if it is not a good fit, I don’t want you coming around anymore; I will not hesitate to call security.” Relief spread across his face, and he began to reach into his bag. “Not here!” She admonished. “Follow me.” The sound from her heels clicking across the floor dared to echo twice before the acoustic panels swallowed the noise.

She led the way to a glass office that overlooked the gallery and held the door open for her guest. Inside the office was as meticulously bare yet regal as the gallery beyond. A plain cherry wood desk stood centre in the room. Aisling motioned to a chair with its back to the gallery as she settled herself in her chair behind the desk.

“Please, hand me the photographs.” She donned white gloves before accepting the photographs.

Tielo watched in anticipation as she thumbed through the pictures. Occasionally a soft ‘hmm’ or ‘mm’ or ‘eh’ escaped her lips, but nothing more. How out of place he felt in this stunning office of such as high-class gallery!

While his jeans were not ripped, they certainly were not new and did not cost him more than twenty dollars. His t-shirt was old and faded, but not stained. Comparatively, he looked at the woman sitting across from him. Her brunette hair was pulled back into a bun without a single wayward strand. Her dress looked fresh from the dry cleaner; no lint, fluff, or hair would ever be found on her clothing. It was a calibre he never thought he would be able to reach. He almost walked out of her office right then.

“These are not for us,” she pushed the majority of the photos back to Tielo. Reaching down beside her, she produced a magnifying loupe from one of her desk drawers. Carefully, she examined various anomalies in the few photographs she kept. For every one she set off to the side again, she passed four more across to Tielo.

A frown creased her brow as she examined one of the photographs. It was one of three she kept, but she had not yet set it off to the side. She held it up to the light, investigated it from several angles, and even pulled a few alternative light sources from her desk. A look of disgust flashed across her face as she stacked up the remaining three photographs. She handed all three back to Tielo and rose from her desk.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t take any of these. I’ll walk you out.”

“Wait. What was it?” Tielo asked as he stood up. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry that we weren’t able to come to agreeable terms.” Aisling continued to lead the way out without addressing his concerns.

“Aisling, please.” Tielo had followed her to the exit but now stood on the threshold. “What did you see? What’s wrong with the photo?”

“Unfortunately, we won’t be seeking to do any business in the future.” Aisling’s voice was calm and direct, but her face was pale. “Please, take care, Tielo. I wish you the best with your photography.” She closed the door. Tielo heard the lock click. He watched her scurry away from the door and saw her speaking with a security guard, pointing at him occasionally, before he turned and took off.

Tielo wanted to go home, but he wouldn’t be satisfied without answers. His feet directed him back towards the office.

Looking down at the enlarged photograph, Tielo sank back in his chair. “What did I photograph?” The question barely escaped his lips before a knock sounded at the door of the darkroom.

“Tielo Ericson? It’s the Metro PD. Please come out.”

Aisling’s whispered conversation with the security guard made more sense now. Afraid of being accused of hiding something, Tielo gathered his film and photographs before leaving the darkroom.

“Tielo Ericson?”

Tielo nodded.

“We received word that you may have some information pertaining to a crime that was committed yesterday.”

“Information, no. Evidence, yes,” Tielo was vaguely aware of the stray eyes in the office, ever darting to the small group. “Can we talk outside?”

Nodding their assent, the officers followed the young man onto the sidewalk outside the building and down a little, so as to be shielded from the prying eyes through the window.

“This is what I assume you are looking for.” Tielo held out the enlarged image. “I don’t know anything about it. I went for my hike as always, and this happened to be in one of my photographs.”

“Do you have the original photo?” An officer asked, looking at the man in front of him rather than the image he handed over.

“Sure. Here. The raw film and the first photo I developed.”

“Where were you hiking when you took these?”

“Somewhere on Logat Mountain.”

“On a trail?”

“No, sorry. I wish I had better information than that.”

“That’s okay. What’s your contact information in case we have to follow up?”

Tielo parted with the officers, feeling worse about his situation. Something about the officers’ demeanour led him to believe they didn’t quite trust his story. For the days following, he read the paper and watched the news with rabid interest. He waited impatiently for more information to break on the photo. In that same time frame, he was interviewed an additional two times by the officers.

“Her body was found on the south side of Logat Mountain and appeared to have been there for several days before being discovered.” The news greeted Tielo one morning while he got ready for work. “Police are calling it a homicide, and ask anyone who was in the area to come forward with any possible information. As of right now, they are not releasing the victim’s identity, but they do have a person of interest already. We will follow up as more information becomes available.”

“I wonder who their person of interest is…” Tielo mused.

The sound of approaching sirens didn’t leave him wondering for long.