Detective Hartley's Last Chase

20250512

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

“Get back here, murderer!”
Detective Hartley staggered around the corner, bad knee screaming, just in time to see Mr White scrambling up a fire escape.
Damn it all, where was Simone?? She’d be up there in a flash and give that scumbag six clockings! But with no aid in sight Hartley gritted his teeth and threw himself at the slick metal steps.
After all that - the autopsy, two weeks investigating, that festering crossword puzzle - he wouldn’t let it all come to nought because of a distant badminton injury! Collapsing could happen after justice was served.
White’s clanging steps overwhelmed Hartley’s gasps. Headed all the way to the roof, eh? Interesting. What was the blaggard playing at? This had to be another of his twisted games.
With that in mind Hartley slowed on the third flight. If this was some trap he needed to be ready, not shaking and wheezing and dangerously lightheaded. Honestly even if this wasn’t a trap White could outmanoeuvre him.
Here lies David Hartley, a doddering old do-gooder whose career ended being pushed down a flight of steps…
He fumbled once more for his phone and growled as he remembered it was in his jacket. If he’d only thought to grab that while starting after White… or transferred the device to another pocket… Simone would certainly never be caught without hers, she was as wedded to it as the rest of her generation.
Fine. He’d just have to trust help was on the way. And try not to dwell on the fact that help wouldn’t know exactly where he was.
The roof was a maze of vents and… spinning chimney things. Hartley planted his back against the fence (thank civil servants for safety regulations!) and scanned the dark and crowded space.
Alright. No visible way off. Fence went all the way around and was designed to deter climbing, and there was no sign of a maintenance door - presumably the stairwell next to him served that purpose.
Hopefully that meant White had bolted into a dead end, and all Hartley had to do was keep him here until backup arrived.
If he only had his damned phone!
His breath was mostly steady now. Hartley called “Alright, White. Nowhere to go. Let’s just get this resolved peacefully, hm? Your family is already mourning-”
Movement. Hartley swung his arm to block the stairway - but White was instead headed for him, eyes wide and panicked, swinging a length of dull metal.
“Ack!” Hartley’s other arm raised, an unthinking meaningless attempt at defence.
It was a victory of a sort. Reducing the smug self-proclaimed ‘mastermind’ to this animal desperation.
Not a victory he felt thrilled about, however.
His bad knee gave up and he collapsed to the floor, the pipe smashing into fence where his head had been.
White staggered back and raised the pipe for a final strike-
The punch threw him backwards.
“You really are too old for this, grandad!”
Hartley managed a weak chuckle. “You may be right, poppet.”

Prompt was “Write the climax of a murder mystery story without any reference to the victim or the crime itself.”
[I did reference the fact it was a murder, but I decided since I included no details that counted. This prompt was tricky enough as it was.]