Chapter Two - Case MC-13

  Case MC-13 – the only case left unsolved for more than a year. More accurately, it’s been untouched for more than three years. No case has ever induced so much fear in a detective before this one, and the cause of that is scarily simple. The dozens of crime scenes that have already been left behind have always greeted the viewer with the same sight. A completely normal room, with only a minor difference. The victim was always found sitting on a standard chair in the middle of the room, lifeless. I have heard it described countless times – the door opens, and a corpse is sitting with folded arms on the lap, staring straight at the detectives with eyes devoid of light.

  The worst part is, even the forensics team struggled to understand the cause of death initially when these murders started happening. There were never any visible wounds, markings or blood. It was the strangest set of murders yet, and only after about a month of continuous autopsies did they find how the victims died. A single wound was found upon every single victim, in the exact same place. It was in the place of the uvula on the roof of the mouth. That injury extended in the direction of the spine, killing the victim through an artificially induced paralysis by severing the connection between the brain and the rest of the body.

  Under normal circumstances, paralysis is not enough to kill someone. However, the way these cuts were performed showed a sign of knowledge of the human body. The killing method is not the cut itself, but rather the consequences of the paralysis. With the spine severed right at the base of the skull, the nerves to the entire body cease functioning. The thing that shuts the body down the fastest due to this maneuver is the failure of the diaphragm. When the control of this muscle stops, so does the breathing. Essentially, the victim suffers from a slow brain death induced by the lack of oxygen. The victims cannot breathe or move for at least five minutes before their death.

  That is where the harrowing reputation of the case comes from. The method of killing is inhumane and twisted – seemingly impossible to boot. How does a person manage to wound the victims in such a way while they are resisting is still up to debate, but these are the stated facts that have been recorded in over one hundred murders.

  As for the evidence, the list is seemingly empty. You would think that with how many of these murders happened, there would be at least a trace left behind. However, the truth is the opposite. The only thing ever found at the scenes was a singular apple. It seemed like a filthy joke made by the murderer, as if he was trying to show his dominance over the law. But if that was really the case, then his taunting is correct, since no other piece of evidence was ever found. The rooms always looked pristine, unstained by blood or anything else. It was quite practically impossible to find anything regarding the killer – like he never even existed.

  The floors were brushed and scanned, no footsteps or traces of DNA. The witnesses were scarce, and a whole zero of them ever gave conclusive testimonies. No signs or footage of the murderer were ever found. There was practically nothing to start with.

  This was truly a dreadful case.

  Or so they claimed, I thought to myself. If this case follows the trends of any other case taken on by other detectives, chances are it won’t be that awful, and instead the incompetence of those fools will be shown. I am the virtuous detective – there is nothing I have never discovered, nor will there ever be.

  May 2nd – today is the day the case will finally come to light. Or that is what I hoped for, at least. The truth is, I cannot do much right now aside from spinning theories and making assumptions, since there are no active crime scenes relating to this case. The last documented crime following the trends happened over a month ago, and I lack the necessary information to act retroactively, so there is no point in trying that. As much as I hate to admit it, I am stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. Not as a result of my incompetence, but because there is literally nothing to be competent about.

  The report I received from Faust was thoroughly read and analyzed, giving me all of this information just now. It is somewhat hard to believe that this single file that is half the size of any ordinary case contains info about the most infamous case of Detective Precinct Department, also known as DPD. The report had me wondering – what would be the most logical place to start with? That question poked on my mind for quite a while, until I came to the verdict that there is only one place where I could begin with. My only realistic option is to check out the evidence for MC-13 in person, which we keep in the secured locker room a floor above our offices. There were a few detectives on this case before, but none of them remained after they were done, so there is no one worth asking about it either. With that said, the evidence is my only option.

  Here I stand, in front of a locker titled MC-13. Given the report, there should only be one thing inside, and that is the puzzling apple. As I input the code to the safe, my mind keeps shifting to the thought of why – is the apple really just a joke? The possibility of the apple being rotten also came up, it has been in that safe for a good few months now, but hopefully the preservation methods of the safes work as they always do.

  Behold, an apple! I took one good look at it to determine that my investigation ends here, for there is nothing to be found on a moldy apple in a zip-loc bag. The only thing that even makes it count as evidence is the fact that it was there, which is not even remotely helpful to my plight. And so, I stood there along with the apple, trying to think of any possibility, anything better than waiting for another murder to happen. Are there any witnesses? No, the report did not include any. Any murder weapons? No, the report did not include any. Any suspects? No.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  With a defeated look, I returned to my office, stumped. The only action I could take at the moment is click my pen like a bored child. And that is precisely what I did – what else could I be doing right now? I have obtained all the necessary information I can, and no one in the office knows anything about the case.

  I don’t know how much time had passed, but the whole time, I was sitting in my closed office, just thinking about the possibilities. This case was undeniably a mystery, but even the biggest conundrums have a starting point. The worst outcome could be if there is no way to progress from the crime scenes themselves. If that happens, I might as well turn in my gun and badge, for I do not deserve it.

  Then, I hear a knock on my door. Whoever it is, I must give them an internal thanks for snapping me out of a possible depressive episode.

  “Come in.”

  Through the door came in a well-known name amongst the detectives. Detective Debrief, the one whose name was uttered at the ceremony, basked in glory. He is surprisingly young for him to be doing such a job, barely pushing into his mid-twenties, and in less than two years at this department, he has managed to amass a considerable amount of fame for himself. The main reason for that is his deductive reasoning and intuition, and many consider him to be the one that will finally dethrone me.

  I, myself, don’t think much of him. He is a greenhorn, a newbie, that is all. However, it is true that he has managed to solve a few tricky cases, but nothing I couldn’t handle. What could be the reason for his arrival into my office?

  “Greetings, Detective Capleaf. I heard the news that you’re taking on MC-13? If so, then I have utmost respect for your bravery.”

  Flattery – hilarious. Although his words did invoke a peculiar thought within me. Can I really admit that I did not take on the case by myself? Would that not be a sign of inferiority?

  “Yeah, yeah. It’s no big deal, what do you really want?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to wish you good luck, you already know this, but that case is deemed to be cursed. A wish of good luck is the least I can provide for you.”

  The way his youthful and pompous face strings words of obsequiousness is insulting. Not to mention that the case has been around for longer than his detective career. Everything about his appearance is like a bright red neon sign saying, “I am a goody two shoes”. And flattery from him is especially unwelcoming. This boy is supposed to surpass me? And here he is, licking the rubber off of my boots? It is honestly laughable.

  Just as unexpectedly as he entered, that way he also left. If I was in the middle of actually being productive, then I would have been a lot more stern towards him, but fortune was on his side, it seems. One piece of information has also been included in the case report – an assistant detective has been assigned to my case. Normally, this means that I have to do extra work by teaching them how I do my job, but this time, I have a hard time believing that. This is the thorn by the side of the whole detective department, MC-13 has been causing problems for us for years. If anything, a competent detective is a necessity here. Going by the assumption that my prayers will have been answered, ideally, either Detective Roosevelt or Detective Nagel will be my assistant. Each of them is equally clever and a prodigy in their own specialties, working with one of them would be delightful.

  It's been several years since I last had a day so unfulfilling and meaningless. Every day of my work is normally stimulating as I run around the city looking for alibis and claims, but once every blue moon, you also get these days. And nothing is more perilous for a detective than a day where he cannot function. A nasty habit has also overtaken me for the entirety of today – I could not stop checking my watch, the day was just so unbelievably slow and agitating. But thankfully, it is now almost 6 PM, more precisely, 17:46. I have been watching the tick of every second and the tick of every passing minute.

  I check the watch. 17:49.

  I check the watch. 17:53.

  I check the watch. 17:59.

  About to leave, I was picking up my belongings and shoving them in my suitcase as fast as possible. I wanted to be out of this building right on time, and any distractions would only hinder that. Well, as soon as that thought voiced itself in my mind, Murphy’s law took effect. Anything that can go wrong will go wrong. The telephone rang, and my obligation to stay here has been extended. It is not like I cannot pick up that call, since HR likes to make our lives down at the precinct miserable and log our calls regularly.

  Against everything that I stand for, I pick up the phone.

  “Hello, Detective Vince here.”

  “Good evening, Detective. You’ve been requested at the scene of a murder that had just occurred. Please arrive to the Trelton Hotel as soon as possible!”

  “Yeah, I’m on it,” I tell the officer and hang up the phone.

  I rush outside of the building as swiftly as I can, now filled with excitement. There is only one thing that this could be, and even though being excited about murder is morally wrong, I am excited. The police are an integral part of our operations, and they regularly call us to the cases we are assigned to. If that phone call right now is genuine, which it undeniably is, it means that I have something to do.

  I am speeding several kilometers over the speed limit, and I don’t care. I want to be there as soon as possible, there is a lot of work to be done, and I will not waste my time by being stuck in potential traffic. That is the least desirable occurrence as of right now.

  It's been a few weeks since I took on a challenging case, let’s hope that my skills haven’t dulled since then.