Forensic Science Department, morgue.
Two middle-aged white men, pushing a gurney with a body bag, were about to leave.
A handsome, dark-haired young man, however, stood at the elevator entrance, blocking their path. Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by ɴoᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt
"Gentlemen, I'm sorry, but you can't go this way!"
Dean scrutinized the two.
One of the middle-aged white men was bald, wore black-rimmed glasses, and exuded an air of 'intelligence.' The other was slight of build, his eyes darting around frequently and subconsciously, giving him a shrewd, almost crafty, outward appearance.
If one were to judge by appearances, Dean would peg these two as the 'clever' sort.
He couldn't help but wonder. These two? They were the ones who produced the Chief of Detectives' signed order?
"Hey, buddy, we're working here. Can you step aside?" the slim, middle-aged white man said, stepping forward with a smile to negotiate with Dean.
Dean shook his head. "Sorry, the body you're about to take is critical evidence in a case I'm handling! Unless you can provide a compelling reason, you're not taking him anywhere!"
The slim man's face darkened. He pulled a folded paper from his inner jacket pocket and showed it to Dean.
It was titled: "Case Assistance Notification."
The text mentioned: Assisting the Huntsville City Police Detective Bureau, Alabama State, in solving a serial murder case, to facilitate the transfer of physical evidence...
Then a whole lot of boilerplate text.
At the bottom was the official seal of the Los Angeles Chief of Detectives.
Dean examined it carefully, the corners of his mouth lifting into a slight smirk.
The slim middle-aged man had been watching Dean's expression intently.
Seeing that strange smile, he felt a faint sense of unease. He cleared his throat and said, "Buddy, we're in a hurry to get back to Huntsville. Can you let us through?"
"No problem!" Dean agreed readily.
The two men visibly relaxed and were about to reach for the elevator button when a dark handgun was suddenly pointed at them.
What in the world...?
The slim middle-aged man froze. "Are you crazy?"
The bald one had already moved his hand to his waist, ready to draw his own weapon.
He didn't believe this young man would dare shoot two out-of-state detectives right here in the Forensic Science Department.
The next moment, a gunshot shattered the quiet.
The bald man had just managed to draw his handgun when he felt the world tilt violently. A cold, viscous liquid slowly spread across his eyes, seeping into the sockets. His vision blurred, then faded to black.
The bald man's body, a bullet hole in his head, slammed heavily onto the floor. Blood and an unidentifiable pale, clear fluid spattered outwards, releasing a pungent, coppery odor.
This unfortunate soul didn't know that Dean, just two months prior, had personally shot a senior medical examiner in the Forensic Science Department in the head.
Afraid to shoot? Not a chance!
Having neutralized the only immediate threat, Dean then unhurriedly turned to the slim middle-aged man, who was now petrified. Dean smiled. "Buddy, it's not me who's crazy; it's you two. Not only did you use a forged order to try and remove a victim's body from the Forensic Science Department, but you also impersonated detectives and were about to draw a weapon on a promising Los Angeles detective."
The seal was real, but the document was fake.
Moreover... these two had a critical flaw in their plan.
Dean and his team had only found the body of the young boy, Henry, the day before. Yet these so-called detectives from Alabama State had shown up first thing the next morning, having crossed state lines, to take the body. They even had the supposed Chief's cooperation document prepared in advance.
This was utter nonsense, treating people like complete idiots!
What was truly baffling was that if he hadn't arrived in time, these two would have actually completed the procedures and nearly succeeded.
It just went to show, the people in the Forensic Science Department, who just followed procedures, were all idiots.
Perhaps some of the 'smarter' ones realized something was amiss. But precisely because they were 'smart,' once they confirmed the seal on the document was fine, they chose to keep quiet!
All in all, this situation was becoming more and more interesting.
Faced with his companion's corpse, the slim middle-aged man's lips trembled, his teeth chattered, and his eyes grew red—whether from fear or fury, it was hard to tell.
He gritted his teeth. "Bastard! You drew your gun first! My partner only instinctively reached for his to defend himself! There are cameras here; you're in deep shit!"
Dean shrugged. "Sorry, the surveillance on this floor was already malfunctioning before I arrived. As long as you can't explain the time discrepancy on that document, my reason for shooting is perfectly valid—even if you genuinely are detectives from Alabama State!"
That was why Harry and Holz hadn't accompanied him. Dean had anticipated that things might get physical. So, he'd had them arrange a few... technical difficulties, disabling the surveillance on this level.
Without surveillance footage as evidence, and with only the questionably dated, poorly explained document they carried, if they died here, no one would dare come forward to seek justice for them.
Hearing Dean's words, the slim middle-aged man glanced up at the hallway surveillance camera. Sure enough, the usually blinking indicator light on the camera was now dark. It had gone out at some point.
Staring down the cold barrel of Dean's gun, he meekly raised his hands. "Alright, I surrender. It's all that stupid woman's fault for getting the date wrong on the document. That's why we had to risk coming here today."
Faced with a choice between prison and dying here, the slim man chose prison.
After handcuffing the man, Dean called Harry and the others to come over.
When they arrived, Holz took one look at the body on the floor and couldn't help but press a hand to his forehead. "Damn it, Dean, you're too ruthless! This is the second time you've killed someone in the Forensic Science Department!"
Dean shrugged. "Well, this is the morgue. I figured it'd be convenient for you guys to process him."