Chapter 375: Chapter 236 Surveying the Scene_1
"Thompson, have you been stuffed into an oven like a turkey?" Dean got out of the car and walked up to the lone figure, teasing him.
The unfortunate guy was none other than his little brother, Thompson.
Thompson, hearing the familiar voice, jerked his head up, his face flushed with anger. "Dean, you have to catch that damn murderer! He ruined my perfect date!"
"So, what exactly happened? Where’s your girlfriend?"
Thompson rubbed his sticky hair, still shaken. "I dropped my girlfriend off near her place. It was pretty quiet, and I thought we had some time, so I wanted to... well, try out that gift you gave me. But no sooner had I gotten my pants off than the damn sprinkler head started spraying blood! It drenched us both like drowned rats!"
"And your girlfriend?"
Speaking of his girlfriend, Thompson’s demeanor sagged again. "After I called the police, they collected the blood off her. As soon as her parents heard, they took her straight home. Plus, her dad said if he ever sees me near their house again, he’ll treat me to a ’buckshot sandwich’."
WHOA. Poor little brother. So, it was heartbreak plus a shock to his... pride, a double whammy. Let’s hope today’s ordeal doesn’t leave Thompson’s... er... confidence permanently deflated. Still, Thompson often goes hunting. He’s skilled at skinning and boning game. His mental resilience shouldn’t be that weak.
Thompson had already had his blood sample taken by the forensics team before Dean arrived, so as long as a guardian was present, he could leave. Although Dean wasn’t technically Thompson’s guardian, this was a community where personal relationships counted for a lot. If he spoke up, the patrol officers present would give him that courtesy.
"Alright, Thompson," Dean said. "I’ll have one of my guys take you to my rental to rest up. I haven’t told Mom about what happened today, so don’t you let it slip tomorrow!"
Thompson stood up. "Please, I’m not an idiot. Otherwise, your colleague wouldn’t have called you in the first place. Dean, when you crack this case, you *have* to tell me. I want to see who ruined my love life!"
Alright then. Seeing him like this, Dean realized his concern was mostly unnecessary. The kids Sheila raised, even someone as seemingly mild-mannered as Thompson, had more mental fortitude than many their age. There was no need to worry that today’s incident would leave him with psychological trauma.
Taking Thompson with him, Dean had just reached the cordoned-off area when several officers on watch, the Keepers, greeted him eagerly.
"Detective Dean!"
"Wow, looks like we’re in luck! This case will probably be solved quickly!"
Clearly, these night-shift patrol officers all recognized Dean, the ’celebrity’ of the Fourth Squad.
"Evening, guys!" Dean responded with a smile. "Can anyone tell me the current situation?"
One particularly sharp officer replied enthusiastically, "The forensics team is already inside processing the scene. Chief Hawk was here too, but apparently, another situation came up in a high-end residential complex, so he took another team of officers and headed over there."
"Thanks." Dean took out a few bills and handed them to the officer. "It’s cold tonight. Go buy some late-night snacks for the guys. Oh, and could you do me a favor and take my unlucky little brother here to my place so he can clean himself up? He’s in a sorry state."
"Of course, no problem!" The young officer grinned as he took Dean’s money. He wasn’t so much pleased about the errand money as he was elated to have made a good impression on Dean. He could practically feel the envious stares of his colleagues.
After sending his little brother off, Dean donned shoe covers and gloves and entered the house. The first thing he saw was a pool of congealed blood on the floor. Above the bloodstain, an old woman with white hair, her body riddled with puncture wounds, lay with her eyes wide open, collapsed under a wheelchair.
Beside the body was a familiar figure, his back to Dean, bent over with a camera, taking close-up shots of the old woman’s corpse. Several other unfamiliar faces were also present, photographing various corners of the room.
"Hey, Holz." Dean clapped Holz on the rear—Holz was bent over, offering quite the view—and greeted him familiarly.
CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.
After several more close-ups, Holz finally straightened up and turned his head. "Dean. I figured you’d come over, even in the middle of the night. I just didn’t expect you to get handsy."
Dean shrugged. "Sorry. Most of the time, I’m a shy guy. But sometimes, my hands have a mind of their own."
Holz gave Dean the middle finger and then began to outline their current findings:
"So far, we’ve discovered four victims: the male homeowner, the female homeowner, their daughter, and the man’s mother. Judging by the photos in the house, they were a family of four.
"This case was discovered very promptly. Based on the state of the bodies, I’d estimate the time of death was no more than three hours ago.
"The elderly woman died by the door. She probably heard someone knocking, went to answer it in her wheelchair, and became the first victim in this home invasion massacre. Although we haven’t done an autopsy, she likely died from massive blood loss due to multiple stab wounds, primarily to her neck and chest. The killer clearly had no intention of leaving any survivors from the start!
"The second victim was likely the male homeowner, who was sitting on the living room sofa watching TV." Holz pointed to a portly man slumped on the couch. "He was probably eating chips and watching a soap opera with his wife and child. It seems he didn’t even have time to react to his mother’s death before he was shot. We found at least seventeen bullet holes in him, three of them fatal. We’re still unsure about the firearm model used, but it’s highly probable the killer emptied an entire magazine into him. Whoever did this must have hated the man intensely!"
Dean nodded. The actions certainly suggested the killer’s mindset at the time. The male corpse on the sofa showed no signs of struggle; he must have been hit in the head with the first shot, otherwise, he wouldn’t have died so... cooperatively. Yet, even then, the shooter didn’t stop firing. The possibility of a deep-seated grudge between them was indeed very high.
"The killer’s apparent rage in dealing with him gave the female homeowner a chance to flee," Holz continued, leading Dean around the blood trail that stretched from the living room into the bathroom. The bathroom door was open, revealing walls and floor splattered with blood. A woman, her face so badly mutilated it was almost unrecognizable, lay limply over the edge of the bathtub, her nightgown soaked crimson.
"She suffered the worst death," Holz said, pointing to the hideous wounds on her body. "Dean, any guesses what the killer used on her?"
"The wounds show cavitation with everted edges," Dean observed, his gaze falling on a spot on the wall where a fixture had been ripped out. "It must have been some kind of square-mouthed steel tube... like that broken towel rack there. Those things look crude, but if the weld snaps, the tubing can easily pierce a human body. It would cause a slow, agonizing death."
"I knew that wouldn’t stump you!" Holz nodded. "The female homeowner was stabbed over thirty times; her body is covered in wounds. She bled out slowly, in agony. It was her blood flowing into the drainage system that caused the problem outside. This house has a greenhouse wastewater recycling system installed underneath. It collects all liquids from the sewers. The lawn sprinklers are connected to this system for water circulation, which is why they started spraying bloody water, drenching a young couple who were about to... get adventurous outdoors."
At this, Holz let out an inappropriate, quacking laugh. "That’s a rare one! I hope the young man doesn’t end up with any psychological scars, you know, become completely dejected over it!"
Dean clapped Holz on the shoulder, his smile tight. "Buddy, that unlucky guy you’re talking about? That’s my brother."
Holz froze, his earlier amusement vanishing. He quickly changed the subject. "Right. Well, initially, seeing all this, I was almost certain the killer had a deep-seated hatred for this family. I thought investigating their personal relationships would yield results. But then I saw the little girl’s body... and that’s where things got confusing."
"Oh?" Dean’s interest was piqued.
Holz led him towards the little girl’s room.