Dilan, who was holding the silver in his hand, pointed at the dead man's pants and said, "There's something sharp in his pocket. I cut my hand."
"How can you be so careless? Max, take care of it." Larry, after taking control of the situation, cut open the dead man's pants, and what he saw left Jack—who had also approached—stunned.
"I know that object. It's a flower-shaped brooch with sharp petals. Quite expensive. I caught a glimpse of it during one of the raids we conducted to capture human organ traffickers," Jack said as he put on gloves and explained its origins to Larry.
"So, the gems are real?"
"If it cut Dilan's hand, then it's a genuine piece. It was originally created by a king who wanted anyone trying to take his queen's head to get cut in the process."
Larry looked at the high-value object and thought, "If it was in his pocket, maybe he was trying to keep it from being stolen."
After saying that, Larry held up the gem-encrusted brooch in front of his eyes. Its overall shape was elegant, and the white gold with inlaid sapphires or black diamonds gave it a luxurious appearance. It looked like a classy ornament.
The gems had been carefully polished, but without the modern eight-hearts-and-eight-arrows cut, they were slightly dull.
The anthropomorphic shape was more realistic and natural. Larry gently touched the blue part with a needle, and sure enough, it popped up.
"There might be more…"
The craftsmanship was top-notch, and the gemstones were of equally high quality. A piece like this had to come from a highly skilled artisan.
Looking at one of the diamonds, Larry found an oval-shaped inscription on the back, which he examined under a magnifying glass.
The words "Casa Velluti" were engraved on it.
Larry seemed to recall having heard of that store. It was a well-known jewelry shop in Italy that, besides selling jewelry, also provided maintenance services.
"I sent some agents to Casa Velluti, the jewelry store in town. They did maintenance on this piece, so we should be able to learn everything we can to uncover the real motive behind the murder," Larry said, carefully placing the brooch into an evidence bag and setting it aside without much interest.
The murdered family didn't seem to have much money, yet they owned an antique jewel that could easily be worth hundreds of millions of dollars. So, if it had never been sold, maybe the killer knew about the jewel and decided to steal it for the money.
But it seemed that the man most severely attacked fought back—he clearly knew what was most valuable to the family and managed to hide it from the attackers.
As far as Larry was concerned, that showed good protective instinct, but not enough skill to take down the killer.
"That makes sense," said Max, who had just finished bandaging Dilan's hand and returned to the victim's body.
"So, are we looking for a thief?"
Larry gently shook his head. "Let's start with the autopsy."
"I'll take care of the brooch," Jack said as he walked away from the group of forensics experts.
The direction of the investigation had now changed completely. The pieces were starting to fall into place, and Jack had to act quickly to catch the killer.
Larry began dissecting another victim's body.
Dilan, now staying slightly on the sidelines, observed how Larry worked more closely.
What he noticed was that the newer forensic investigators worked very independently—each silently doing their part.
Max, who was Larry's apprentice, had practically become his shadow, working in exactly the same way Larry would.
Dilan also noticed that although Larry had a cold personality, his seriousness toward his work and his colleagues was moving.
Some of the explanations he had just given were clearly for himself—but did they still serve a purpose now that the investigation had changed course?
He hated his job. The things he had to do to get to where he was involved running errands for many professionals. So now, he felt envious of Max, who at his young age was already handling tasks on his own.
"I can help," Dilan said as he approached Larry, who was silently examining the victim.
"Just hand me the tools. I don't want you working while injured." Larry didn't push Dilan aside—he included him in the investigation.
Dilan nodded and focused his attention on the autopsy.
The way Larry moved the knife, it was as if he knew human anatomy perfectly. He was quick, seemingly very experienced, and for a moment, Dilan got the feeling he was watching a killer enjoying slicing up a body.
Larry suddenly looked up and stared at him.
"What were you thinking?"
"Forensic doctor Luk, the way you remove the skin and flesh from this corpse… it reminds me of a famous killer who was caught years ago in South Texas," Dilan blurted without much thought.
"Really?"
"Yeah. When I was a kid, there was a butcher next to my house. He sold grilled meat. When I had nothing to do, I'd lean against the wall and watch him cut it."
After saying that, Dilan paused for a moment and added, "His knife skills were amazing. He could separate pork meat and bone with a single cut. It's said that the killer in Texas I mentioned was also a butcher—until he brutally massacred five people who were just traveling."
"I've never seen a butcher do this, but that's an interesting idea. Still, this victim, with so many wounds, clearly caught the killer in the act and confronted him."
"That's possible!"
"The strange thing is, we haven't found any trace of the killer yet."
Larry nodded. That was indeed strange.
This victim was the most injured. Every cut and wound from the struggle had been photographed and measured. The longest cut didn't exceed 6.5 cm, deeper at the center and slightly shallower on the sides.
Every cut reached the bone.
After a thorough analysis, Larry became increasingly puzzled. The knife had a curve; otherwise, such wounds wouldn't have been possible. But it was unlikely that the curved knife alone had caused these injuries.
That meant one thing: Could it be that two people committed the crime?
After all, there were now two sets of data—so the shoe covers and gloves weren't just used to hide prints, but also to hide the fact that two killers were involved.
After suturing the chest and abdomen, Larry's legs began to give out. He checked the time: the hands pointed to eleven. After fifteen hours, he had finally completed all the autopsies.
Max, beside him, had already arranged for the body to be transported.
Larry removed his gloves and protective suit.
Max cracked his neck and gave Dilan a pat on the shoulder—he was exhausted too. "We got to know each other through our work today. That says a lot about us."
Dilan smiled and said, "Seems like I have a lot to learn from you guys."
"Alright, let's go eat!"
"Hurry, wash up and eat. I'm starving. Look at me, I've lost weight!"
Ten minutes later, after showering, they exited the locker room and saw Jack smiling. They stopped immediately.
"Don't just stand there! Let's go to the restaurant and eat!"
"I already made a reservation. Let's go."
"It's been a hard day, but we still have to work overtime to finish the report. We can't hold back the agents on the investigation."
"Yeah, but you still need to eat."
Even though he was tired, Jack agreed with that.
"You guys go ahead, I'll order something. I'll stay here to finish the report tonight. You all go rest. Don't we have a special meeting about the case tomorrow morning?"
Dilan was about to protest, but Larry raised a hand to stop him. "We can't all stay here. I'll review the inspection report later. If necessary, some of you might go back to the crime scene tomorrow for another look."
After hearing what Larry said, they didn't insist and all went to the restaurant.
Larry ordered some food, took a half-hour nap, and got back to work on the case. Max arrived later, and the two of them worked until four in the morning, submitting over forty inspection reports.
A process had begun to take shape in Larry's mind.
Max had fallen asleep at the table. By then, Larry was no longer tired.
He outlined the refined process with a diagram of the crime scene layout. By 7:30 a.m., Larry was sipping coffee.
Max slowly woke up, rubbed his eyes, and saw Larry flipping through folders. "You didn't sleep at all?"
"I can't sleep."
"You can't drink coffee on an empty stomach. I'll get you something to eat." Just as Max was about to leave, Dilan came rushing in with large bags of food and said, "I brought lunch. Let's eat."
As the two ate in silence, a surprised shout came from the investigation room, and Dilan asked, "Larry, did you do all this in one night?"