Harry felt he'd lost face and spoke to Oren in a terse tone, "Where were you on the nights of the 3rd, 18th, and 19th?"
"Sorry," Oren pointed to his head. "I have a bad memory, can't remember."
"Great!" Harry pulled out a pair of handcuffs from the small of his back and threw them in front of Oren. "Then please come with us. We suspect you're involved in several murder cases!"
Dean stood by, silently observing and learning. In the Fourth Squad, everyone had their own way of handling cases, and he needed to learn from them while also understanding the unspoken rules. These were things school wouldn't teach.
When Oren saw the handcuffs, he panicked. "Wait, now I remember! On the 3rd, I passed out and was in the hospital. I didn't get out until the 5th—Maria Hospital, yes, that's the name! The 18th..."
He frantically used a clean hand to pull out a booklet from underneath a Playboy magazine, flipping it open to a bookmarked page. He found an entry and continued, "On the 18th, I was detained for a fight, and on the 19th, I was at home. There's surveillance in the living room; it can prove what I'm saying."
"You wrote all these things down?" Harry's gaze shifted to the booklet.
If he wasn't worried about it being sticky with something, he would've definitely grabbed it to see what was written.
Oren held up a special glass bottle. "No, no, no, the booklet just records my sales of this stuff. But to be on the safe side, I've logged the transaction process and routes as well."
"You're selling your own seed?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Is that weird? On the black market, a sample can go for a couple hundred bucks, and I sell about a dozen of them each month." Oren looked annoyed. "Buddy, I'm Caucasian. If it weren't for my lack of education, insufficient experience, and average looks, I could donate at the official institutions and get a couple thousand for one donation, maybe even more."
Is there such a good deal? Harry was tempted. His monthly salary after taxes was just a little over six thousand, not even as much as the income from jerking off six or seven times.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Harry, forget about it. Those official institutions want it to sell at high prices to rich ladies looking for breeding material; you don't qualify. As for selling online, just look at what's happened to Oren now..."
Harry glanced at Oren, who looked anxious, and shrugged. Alright then.
If this had happened seven or eight years ago, Oren might have been taken in as a suspect for indiscriminately selling his offspring, just to boost their numbers.
After a brief verification, Dean and Harry left the convenience store. Oren had clear alibis for the times of the crimes. The murderer had ordered his seed online, and they had agreed on places to exchange money and goods without ever meeting face to face. Harry also checked Oren's hospitalization record by phone, and the precinct had the corresponding detention record, effectively ruling out Oren as a suspect.
「Back at the detective bureau.」
Old Hunter and his group had already returned, but they didn't seem to be in a good mood. Dean noticed Lawrence was back too, now sitting at his own desk, absentmindedly twirling a pen, visibly preoccupied.
"Guys, your faces don't look too good," Harry said, trying to lighten the mood and get everyone's attention.
Old Hunter stood up. "Yes, not good at all, Harry. We need some good news from you."
"Sorry, no good news." Harry spread his hands. "Oren has solid alibis. The problem is the guy sells about a dozen samples of his seed a month through anonymous trades, and there are no cameras around, so we have no idea who the buyers are."
"Damn it, the killer is mocking us!" Old Hunter angrily sat back down.
Daisy brought two cups of coffee for Harry and Dean, explaining at the same time, "The identity of the short guy has been confirmed; he's a fraudster, not the killer."
"Then why was he at the victim's place, providing false leads?" Harry asked curiously.
Daisy shook her head. "I don't know. By the time the deputy's team arrived, the person was already dead. The body is currently at the forensics department undergoing an autopsy."
"Daisy, about the clue regarding the short person, I remember it was reported through an anonymous tip, right?" Dean interjected.
He was certain that the anonymous call had come from the real murderer! First, he gave hope to the detective bureau, only to extinguish it later. The murderer had been paying close attention to the detectives' movements, enjoying the thrill of toying with them.
"Yes," Daisy nodded. "However, it was from a public payphone in the Queens district, with no surveillance around and a fair amount of pedestrian traffic; we couldn't track down the person who made the report."
Two significant findings had been intentionally orchestrated by the murderer. All leads had been severed once again. The only thing they could ascertain now was that the murderer was becoming increasingly brazen and insane. He even worried that the detectives might be too dull to find the clues he had left deliberately, so he took the initiative to call and report the location where the short person was hiding...
This turn of events severely dampened everyone's spirits.
Of course, Dean was not included in this. The current situation had validated his speculation. The murderer was confident that he would not be exposed, relishing the thrill of walking on a knife's edge. His mentality was becoming more distorted; no longer content with ordinary killing, he wanted to engage with the detectives. But the murderer had forgotten one thing: the more one does, the more mistakes one makes. The murderer had already revealed a fatal flaw! Now, they were just waiting for the investigation results from Laura at the gym.
「Dusk.」
Captain Monet, with a somber expression, returned to the office and convened a meeting. The serial home invasion and stabbing cases had yet to be resolved, and it was clear he was under tremendous pressure from above.
"Hunter, report the situation!"
Deputy Hunter stood up. "Our forensics team found genetic material in the red substance on the lower body of the third victim. Harry and his team discovered that it belongs to a person with a criminal record. The murderer purchased the individual's sperm through an online transaction and intentionally left it inside the victim!
"The suspect was found dead. We located him at an abandoned construction site following an anonymous tip. The guy was a con artist, previously seen in Las Vegas, who somehow ended up in Los Angeles. We can confirm he's unrelated to the case. There were no signs of injury on his body when we found him. The exact cause of death will have to wait for the forensics results."
Monet, somewhat irritated, tugged at his collar. "So, where does that leave us with suspects?"
Old Hunter sighed. "I suspect he was threatened by the murderer and forced to appear at the crime scene. Also, the anonymous call was most likely made by the murderer himself; he's toying with us!"
"So, there isn't a single piece of good news?" Monet removed his glasses, stood up, and swept his gaze over everyone.
For a moment, the atmosphere in the meeting room turned heavy.
Off to the side, Daisy, the clerk, displeased with the mood, shifted uncomfortably and timidly said, "Captain, there was a wife-killing case in a hotel today. Detectives Lawrence and Dean solved it in less than three hours."
BANG!
The conference table shook violently.
Monet drew back his fist, veins throbbing on his forehead. "Is this good news! Can any of you tell me why this wife-killing case and the previous three cases are so similar! Tell me! Who the hell leaked these details to the media? Tell me!"