Hearing Holz’s cry of surprise from inside, everyone braced themselves and entered again.
Yet, they were still shocked by the scene before them.
A sea of luminescent blue light met their eyes. Everyone’s exposed skin was bathed in a ghastly blue glow, appearing both deep and eerily unsettling.
"What on earth happened here?" The sole female forensic officer swallowed. "Did the killer actually use blood as water to mop the floor?"
It was a scene of a scale rarely witnessed. Even these experienced forensic officers were momentarily stunned.
Dean, however, showed little reaction. After scanning the area, he looked puzzled. "These marks do look like they were made by a mop, but if so, what was the perpetrator’s purpose?"
Bloodstains were hard enough to clean completely; spreading them everywhere would only make it more troublesome, wouldn’t it?
"The murderer is cunning and smart." Holz’s expression was grim. He pulled a laser pen from his pocket and pointed it several times at the area on the floor where the blue light was most concentrated, then looked at Dean.
"At these positions, there are clear signs of overlapping layers. One of these spots is likely where the victim bled heavily or ultimately died. To conceal this spot, the killer deliberately mopped several nearby areas multiple times."
"What’s the point of that?" Dean was even more confused. He had never encountered such professional analysis before and didn’t understand the key point Holz was making.
"This involves bloodstain pattern analysis," Holz said, pointing to the female forensic officer who was frowning in thought. "Melon is our Forensics Department’s bloodstain pattern analysis expert. Detective Dean, I think you might need her help."
Hearing Holz call her name, the female forensic officer refocused and explained to Dean, "Forensic experts have a saying: ’Dead bodies talk.’
"But it’s not just the bodies.
"Every drop of blood at a crime scene has its story.
"Through the shape, trajectory, and analysis of blood spatter, among other means, we can deduce the date of the crime, the murder weapon, the movement and tracks of the people involved, the hand preference of the killer, the type of injury inflicted, and even whether the wound was fatal at that time."
"But..." Melon’s brow furrowed again. "The area has been heavily obscured by so much blood, making it difficult to gather useful information through bloodstain pattern analysis."
It’s like trying to make bricks without straw. With all the bloodstains obscured, meaningful analysis was impossible. At most, we could only determine the age and type of the blood and check for any residual genetic information.
Dean finally understood. "So, you’re saying the killer knew what methods the Forensics Department might use?"
"Correct," Melon nodded. "For example, in this situation, we can’t pinpoint the victim’s last position through the bloodstains. Consequently, we can’t deduce the killer’s movements, height, build, or other details. This approach is actually more cunning than directly cleaning away blood residue with reagents."
Even with reagents, it’s not guaranteed that all blood residue can be removed. But it’s hard to find an original black dot on a piece of paper that has been entirely blackened. That was the killer’s intention.
"Alright, the killer left us at least one dead dog," Dean said, preparing to give them some tasks. "Folks, please collect blood samples from various locations—walls, fireplace, ceiling, and so on—and analyze their composition."
"Wait!" Melon interrupted Dean. "You mean there are bloodstains on the ceiling, walls, and hearth as well?"
"Yes," Dean confirmed, pointing upwards. "But they’re not very obvious."
Melon went over to the place Dean had indicated. After examining it for a moment, she shook her head in disappointment. "There are too few reference traces; we can’t analyze anything substantial. If there were more reference marks from different directions, then we might have something to work with."
Analysis requires data for reference, but the data left at the scene was too scant.
After the Forensics Department had collected some samples, they left with the decomposing dog. Lawrence hadn’t arrived yet. Hawk, the bald patrol officer, had also left and hadn’t returned.
Out of boredom, Dean wandered over to a corner by the fireplace. On the wall there, more than a dozen photo frames were arranged in the shape of a heart, giving the immediate impression of a loving family of four. After taking a good look at their group photo, a strange smile appeared on Dean’s face.
He had noticed something very interesting. In the photo, a boy and a girl, presumably siblings, were holding hands and looking toward the camera with radiant smiles. This scene, on the surface, seemed perfectly normal. But when combined with the parents’ gazes, it became intriguing. Behind the siblings, the father’s eyes were fixed on the back of his son’s head in a sidelong glance; the mother’s eyes, much like the father’s, were directed at the back of her daughter’s head.
Is this a father who dislikes his son and a mother who dislikes her daughter? Dean squatted down to examine the area around the photo frame. This photo, compared to the others, was strikingly out of place. And upon closer inspection, he indeed found something amiss.
These types of photo frames, to ensure long-term preservation, are generally made with special materials, with the air removed from inside and the gaps sealed with beeswax or a similar substance. But the bottom seam of this family photo frame had already lost its seal. Someone had opened this photo frame and replaced the photo inside.
Dean ran his finger along the bottom of the frame and gently tugged. The photo secured inside slid out smoothly, like a tissue from a box, and fell into Dean’s palm.
Picking up the photo, Dean noticed a sentence written in blood on the back: Behind sanctity, there is only deceit and filth!
This sentence, paired with the peculiar photo, seemed to carry a certain implication. Moreover, a closer look at the photos would easily reveal that this particular picture was different from the others, as if deliberately pointing out that something was amiss.
Is this about solving a case or a puzzle?! Dean thought. The killer must be sick in the head!
He reinserted the photo into the frame and then took the entire frame down from the wall.
After securing the photo frame, Dean went to the hired hand’s room.
Upon opening the door, a peculiar smell assaulted him. The guest room was spacious, resembling a studio apartment with its own bathroom and a wall-mounted television. Beneath the television was a cabinet, and on it sat a VCD player with a blinking light, with a pile of DVDs on top.
Beyond that, discarded tissues, smelly socks, empty beer cans, and other trash were strewn about.
Dean walked over to the VCD player and carefully examined the DVDs. Most were romance movies, a few were Westerns, and at the very bottom, he found an adult film.
Harry would definitely disc. Dean smiled to himself and returned empty-handed to the villa’s main hall.
Just then, Hawk finally returned. Panting, he handed two file folders to Dean. "The top one contains basic information about the homeowners, and the other contains identity information for the hired hand. You’ll never guess his previous identity!"