"Well, we should say that we have an idea. According to the findings of forensic doctor Hammerback, before Kevin Carter arrived home, he had already eaten almost the same food prepared by his wife Deborah.
We just checked Kevin's parking space, which is about half a block away from their apartment. It takes at least fifteen minutes to walk back to the apartment from the parking lot, take the elevator upstairs and finally enter the door, because we have a bold guess."
Jack waved to Stella, asking her to tell them the conclusion they had just reached.
"Judging from the ring and the card, Kevin Carter's affair wasn't a one-night stand, but a long-term lover, and this lover is very likely our mysterious female serial killer.
She knew Kevin's preferences and prepared similar food. Given the digestibility of the food and the location of the apartment, we can even boldly speculate that she probably lives nearby."
She proudly took the tape from Mike Taylor and shook it. "This explains how the DNA was transferred. The two kissed before parting, and the mysterious lover's DNA was first transferred to Kevin's lips, and then to the bitten bread."
"Not a lover." Sheldon Hawke, a former forensic doctor and current CSI Level 2 researcher, shook the inspection report in his hand, but his words surprised everyone, "Kevin Carter is very likely a bigamist."
He took out a photo, "I found violet pollen on the chest of Kevin's coat. This kind of flower was not found in the deceased's apartment. Add to that the peridot ring, what do you think of it?"
A married person suddenly realized, "Violet flowers and peridot necklace are for the first anniversary of marriage."
"Huh?" A question mark popped up in Jack's head. This seemed to involve his blind spot in knowledge again.
Danny clapped his hands excitedly. "This beach boy is a master of time management. He took Violet and his second wife to dinner to celebrate their first wedding anniversary.
After dinner, he excused himself to something urgent, perhaps a prearranged business trip, and after a hasty kiss goodbye, he immediately returned to his first wife's home, pretending to be starving." "
Hmm, it seems this master of time management needs improvement. But there's one more question: why is the second wife's DNA on the hilt?" Mike Taylor asked his final question.
Everyone looked at each other in confusion. Jack's mind flashed through countless movie plots. "Since his two homes are within a 20-minute walk, perhaps the two wives already knew each other, and the second wife even visited. Maybe she deliberately slipped the ring and card into Kevin's coat?"
Everyone saw a scene: a mysterious female killer, weapon in hand, glaring at another woman from behind. After a final moment of reflection, she calmly put the weapon down and began to formulate her plan to kill someone with a borrowed knife.
However, this reasoning was too dramatic, and clearly not everyone was convinced. As Mike Taylor said, "It feels a bit far-fetched. Perhaps you could refine it and include it in your next novel."
He took the analysis report from a female researcher, glanced at it, and a smile crossed his face. He pulled out a picture and handed it to Jack and Danny.
"Our researchers analyzed the fibers in the deceased's shoes and socks and found they came from this type of carpet. This might help narrow your search."
Danny frowned at the red and yellow carpet pattern in the picture, looking somewhat embarrassed. "These cheap carpets are everywhere. How can we narrow the scope?"
"Because researchers found that the carpet is coated with a high concentration of fluorinated amine."
Mike Taylor's words still left Danny confused, but Jack had already reached out, rolled up the picture, and tapped his shoulder. "Let's go. We're looking for newly installed carpet. Fluorinated amine is used as an insecticide, and it only remains on new carpet."
"Let's go back to the detention center and re-interrogate Mrs. Carter to see if she's hiding anything from us," Mike Taylor said to Stella.
The four of them split up, with Jack driving Danny to the crime scene. As expected, they found a carpet with the same pattern as the one in the picture in a building next to the Carters' luxury apartment complex.
Danny even checked with the building manager to confirm that it was indeed new carpet. So began the arduous process of searching the building.
The building had 16 floors, with four elevators serving 12 households each. Including the penthouse, which had two separate elevators, there were 182 households in total.
With a list of residents in hand, Jack and Danny knocked on each door, flashing a mug shot of Kevin Carter and asking if anyone knew him.
"Excuse me, do you know this person?"
"NYPD, excuse me, have you seen this guy?"
"Hello, do you know him?"
Knocking from the first floor to the sixth was hardly tiring, but he encountered all sorts of people. A fat man in shorts with hairy legs showing was one thing, and there was also someone clad in a latex suit, holding a small whip.
"Why are you in such a hurry? I was wondering if she farts in this outfit, does it cause a bulge?" Jack was genuinely curious; after all, he had never seen anyone dressed like that in real life.
"I swear, if I see someone answering the door with nothing on my butt again, I'm going to go crazy. I can't remember the last time I did something like this, I think it was when I was a patrol officer."
Danny tried hard to control his temper. This kind of work was usually assigned to patrol officers, but the person they were looking for might be a psychopathic serial killer.
The person would likely conceal the fact that they knew the deceased, so he would have to observe their immediate reaction while showing Kevin Carter's photo, and there was a high chance of danger.
Jack's hand was always on the pistol at his waist. "To be honest, the last time I did this kind of work, my memory was not very good. I was a rookie at that time, and I was ordered to search a place called Bronson Building, which was actually a drug dealer's den. That was also the first time I was shot, uh."
He suddenly got stuck in the middle of his words, because the story that happened in the hospital afterwards was unforgettable for him.
"It doesn't sound like a very good story." Danny didn't pay attention to his expression and continued to knock on the door of the next apartment.
The door opened, and a blonde beauty who looked no more than 20 years old was standing at the door. Danny smiled naturally, "Sorry to bother you, I'm Detective Reagan, and this is Detective Tavola. Have you seen this person?" He showed the photo in his hand.
Unexpectedly, the blonde admitted it directly, "Of course, this is my husband."