By early afternoon the rain had finally stopped, leaving Eldridge City glistening under a pale gray sky. Ramis stood in the bullpen, reviewing the growing stack of notes on Victor Lang's life. The homicide unit buzzed with new energy. Phones rang louder, detectives moved faster between desks, and the smell of fresh coffee mixed with the damp scent of wet coats.
Captain Marcus Walker hung up his desk phone and waved Ramis over. "Lab results just came in deeper. The compound in Lang's blood is called 'Elysium-9.' Designer drug, brand new on the streets. Causes intense euphoria, then cardiac arrest while the victim feels nothing but bliss, almost no pain. That explains the smile."
Ramis's green eyes sharpened. "Street drug?"
"Not exactly," Marcus replied. "It's synthetic, high-end. Costs a fortune, only a handful of labs could make it. We're cross-checking suppliers now."
Detective Ruiz joined them, holding a printed photo. "We got a lead on the 'dream girl.' Lang's assistant finally remembered her first name—Lila. And look at this."
He slid the photo across the desk. It showed a woman in her late twenties at a charity gala. Striking beauty: long dark hair, sharp cheekbones, and piercing violet-blue eyes that seemed to look straight through the camera. She wore a sleek black dress that hugged her figure. Next to her, Victor Lang smiled like a man who had won the lottery.
Ramis studied the image. Something about her eyes felt dangerous. "Beautiful and dangerous. Any last name?"
"Not yet," Ruiz said. "But we pulled guest lists from the event. One Lila Voss attended. Works as a freelance consultant for high-profile clients. No criminal record, but her background is thin. Almost too clean."
Marcus checked his watch. "Her apartment is in the Heights district. I want you to go talk to her, Ramis. Take Ruiz with you. I'll handle the new cleaner angle from here. If she's connected to the Sandman, we need to move fast before she disappears."
Ramis nodded, already grabbing his jacket. The ache in his knee had settled into a steady throb, but the case was pulling him forward. "Let's go."
Twenty minutes later, Ramis and Ruiz pulled up outside a modern mid-rise building in the Heights. The neighborhood was upscale but quieter than Riverfront—tree-lined streets, small cafés, and young professionals walking dogs. Lila Voss lived on the eighth floor.
They took the elevator up in silence. Ruiz adjusted his tie. "You lead the questions. I'll watch her reactions."
Ramis rang the doorbell. Soft footsteps approached. The door opened, and there she was.
Lila Voss was even more striking in person. Tall and slender, with smooth olive skin and those same violet-blue eyes that seemed to glow under the hallway light. She wore a simple white silk blouse and black pants, her long hair tied back loosely. A faint floral perfume drifted out—sweet, almost the same note Ramis had smelled in Lang's apartment.
"Ms. Voss?" Ramis asked, keeping his voice calm and professional. "I'm Ramis Walker, private investigator assisting the police. This is Detective Ruiz. We'd like to talk to you about Victor Lang."
Her expression shifted from mild surprise to something cooler. She stepped aside gracefully. "Come in. I heard the news this morning. Terrible thing."
The apartment was stylish and minimal—soft gray walls, modern furniture, and large windows overlooking the park below. A single vase of white lilies sat on the coffee table, their scent heavy in the air.
They sat on the couch. Lila took the armchair across from them, crossing her long legs. Her movements were fluid, confident.
"How well did you know Mr. Lang?" Ramis asked, watching her face.
"We met at the charity gala two months ago," she replied smoothly. "He was charming. Intelligent. We had dinner a few times, nothing serious though. He was a busy man."
Ruiz leaned forward. "When was the last time you saw him?"
"Eight days ago. We had drinks at the River Lounge. He seemed stressed about work. That's all."
Ramis noticed the way her fingers rested perfectly still on the arm of the chair. Too still. "Did he ever mention anyone threatening him? Or someone called the Sandman?"
Lila's eyes flickered—just for a split second. "Sandman? No. Sounds like a fairy tale."
Ramis leaned in slightly. "Funny. The killer left a note signed 'The Sandman.' And Lang died with a peaceful smile, like he was having the sweetest dream of his life. Elysium-9 in his system. Ever heard of it?"
For the first time, a crack appeared in her calm. Her lips pressed together. "I don't deal in drugs, Mr. Walker. I consult for businesses. That's all."
Ruiz pulled out the gala photo and placed it on the table. "You two looked very close in this picture."
Lila glanced at it and gave a small, sad smile. "He was a lonely man. I enjoyed his company. That's it."
Ramis studied her carefully. She was beautiful, yes, but there was steel underneath. The kind of woman who could make powerful men forget themselves. "Ms. Voss, if you know anything that could help us find who did this, now is the time to tell us. The Sandman is playing a game. He might not stop at one victim."
She held his gaze for a long moment. Those violet eyes were hypnotic. "I wish I could help. Victor was kind to me. I hope you catch whoever did this."
The interview ended politely, but Ramis felt unsatisfied. As they left the building, Ruiz muttered, "She's hiding something. That perfume smelled familiar."
"Same as in Lang's apartment," Ramis agreed. "Not proof, but close."
Back at the precinct, the afternoon had turned busier. Captain Marcus was on a call when they returned. He hung up quickly.
"Good timing. We found the new cleaner. His name is Elias Kane. Twenty-nine. Works odd jobs through a temp agency. We brought him in for questioning."
They moved to the observation room. Through the one-way mirror, Elias Kane sat at the interview table. He was tall and thin, with messy brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and nervous hands that kept fidgeting. He looked more like a college student than a professional cleaner.
Ramis entered the room alone. "Mr. Kane, I'm Ramis Walker. Tell me about your visit to Victor Lang's apartment last week."
Elias pushed his glasses up. "It was just a one-day job. The regular maid was sick. Mr. Lang paid cash. I cleaned the bathrooms and kitchen. Left after three hours, that's all."
"Did you touch his medication? His wine? Anything personal?"
"No! I swear. I just cleaned."
Ramis watched the man's eyes. He was scared, but not guilty-scared. More like someone afraid of being blamed. "Did you see anyone else there? Or notice anything strange?"
Elias hesitated. "There was… a small package on the counter when I arrived. Plain brown wrapping. Mr. Lang put it away quickly. Said it was a gift from a friend."
Ramis's pulse quickened. "What did it look like?"
"Small box. Maybe the size of a phone. There was no label on it."
The pieces were clicking faster now. A mystery woman with hypnotic eyes. A new cleaner. A suspicious package. And a designer drug that made people die smiling.
Ramis stepped out and rejoined his father and Ruiz.
Marcus rubbed his jaw. "This is moving quick. The chief wants updates every hour. I'm putting a task force together. Ramis, you're officially on it. No more sidelines."
Ramis felt a surge of adrenaline. For the first time in years, he felt truly inside the game.
That evening, as the sun set behind the towering buildings of Eldridge City, Ramis sat at his father's desk reviewing files. His phone buzzed with a text from his mother:
Elena: Stay safe, my genius boy. I'm proud of you. Come for dinner soon, love you.
He smiled and replied quickly before diving back into the notes.
The Sandman had left his first dream.
But Ramis Walker was wide awake, and he was coming for the man behind the smile.