“So, what do you think of that?” When they were driving away, Marcus asked.

“About what, exactly?” Mick was busy writing notes on his phone.

“About that guy.” Marcus took a quick look at the rearview mirror: “And about the club and the whole situation.”

“The autopsy report of Lydia Mu said she died of asphyxiation from vomit.” Mick thought for a moment then answered: “So - what I am thinking now is a bad combination of speeding and drunkenness killed her. And because she was in a drunken state, she was not able to call for help or anything. Her body was thrown out of the car, without any lashes or bruises from the seatbelt, which means she might have been too drunk to know what was going on, or she could be forced into the car. There was a piece of Carl Benson’s shirt in her hand, which indicates some kind of struggle. The skin fragments under her fingernails were also evidence for that. But the notes by Dr. Ayer Flemmings said the amount is not that high, and there was no blood, and no bruises on the victim’s body that indicate heavy struggle. Combine these with the fact that her blood tested positive for high alcohol concentration, I’d think she struggled a little but was not able to do anything because she was too intoxicated.”

“Okay, good. I was thinking along this line.” Marcus nodded: “What else?”

“Still doesn’t explain what or who killed Carl Benson.” Mick raised his head then looked out the window: “That kind of brutality just screams revenge, but there were almost no signs of struggle at the scene, right? The only clues that there were any third parties there were those footprints, presumably female footprints, but there was nothing else. I don’t understand… I - I don’t mean to question the security of our evidence storage facility, but …”

“You’re thinking someone put the body in after the fact?” Marcus let out a few laughs: “Good thinking - we can check the security footage and see. I would say it was probably not that possible, and not because I have that much faith in the security of the evidence storage. But because the report said that the skin, muscles and soft tissues were burnt onto the parts in the engine room. It would be harder for anyone to do that while inside the evidence storage facility because they’d have to deal with the temperature control alerts along with the cameras.”

“I - I see…”

“But it’s still an angle worth pursuing. Dr. Flemmings and Kevin’s notes said that they thought there was some alcohol based fuel used to burn the body, and not just from engine heat, so revenge seems pretty likely.” Marcus checked the blindspots before making a turn: “And if that is the case, we’ll have some serious questions for the Bensons - this would be no ordinary murder.”

“What kind of potential scale are we talking about here?” Mick took a look at Marcus.

“Don’t know, and I don’t really care either.” Marcus sighed: “To be honest, this one just stinks of a permanent cold case - ”

“A Blue Envelope case?” Mick asked.

“Exactly.” Marcus nodded, then took a surprised look at Mick: “How did you know about Blue Envelope cases? If I remember correctly, it’s the level of information for detectives with five or more years on the force. And mostly need-to-know as well.”

“Yeah, it’s because of my father.” Mick shook his head then answered with a tired and annoyed tone: “He, uh, has connections, and he was at some point in charge of aggregating and analyzing some of these cases, so I kinda got some early access to some of the related files. There was actually one in the South-Western District just right before I joined. I’ve always dreamed of solving one.”

“If you want you can talk with Kevin, he’s also keen on looking into some of those.” Marcus chuckled: “But you will have to endure his taste for strange gore and the supernatural.”

“Seems like I will need to get used to it anyway.” Mick apparently appeared still embarrassed about the fact that he vomited at the sight of Carl Benson’s body: “But I do have a question about Mr. Loo - is he the only forensic technician in our precinct?”

“I’m afraid so - our precinct is not as well funded as some other precincts. And we are also on the border of two districts, which means that we are far enough from the central parts of South-Western District to be underfunded, but not deep enough into South-Eastern District to receive special funding, even though we have to deal with crimes in the South-Eastern District and the politics around the community collective just the same. And since the city is basically going through a shortage of forensic talent, Kevin would be the only one for us at the moment. The guy has been doing great work, regardless of his eccentricities - one may argue it’s because of them.”

“If so, why can’t he just apply for a forensic scientist certificate? This way he could expedite lab orders and could even receive stipends from the city - ”

“That’s good in theory and all. But who the fuck has a few hundred dollars lying around for a roughly fifteen to twenty percent pass rate?” Marcus sighed: “We did try to pitch in at one point, but he just would not accept it. ”

“... I see.” Mick thought for a moment, then wrote something on his phone.

The apartment building where the young women working for Emerald Starlight was not very far, if on foot it would be around a half an hour to 40-minute walk. With the morning traffic and Marcus’ driving, it was just about 15 minutes.

This apartment building was just like what Marcus had expected - it looked dirty, cheap and crowded from the outside, and it was indeed dirty, cheap and crowded on the inside. The walkways were cracked, sticky and even reeking of urine in some areas. All the apartment doors had stainless steel frames and see-through outer doors. There were even simple shacks made from plastic wraps, wooden sticks, old towels and old newspapers at the corners of hallways and empty storage areas. There appeared to be people living in these shacks, even though currently they were empty.

“What the - ” Mick looked around in shock: “How could anyone live in a place like this?”

“Let’s just find them.” Marcus shook his head, he had some experience visiting de facto slums like this place before, it was never a pleasant experience: “Also, don’t disclose that we’re police unless the situation calls for it. Things could get really hairy if they know.”

The higher up they went, the condition of the environment got slightly better. They were looking for two young women living on the fourth floor, named Tanya Su and Eve Kim, which would most probably be fake or stage names.

The fourth floor for sure was much cleaner than the three floors below, and somewhat surprisingly, there was no sign of anyone squatting in open areas. And some of the apartment rooms seemed to be empty.

The creepy yet not strange chilliness came back to Marcus, the same kind of chilliness from the substation scene, and the tunnel below the docks.

“Careful.” Marcus immediately warned Mick while looking around: “This place doesn’t feel right.”

“What? How?” Mick had his hand on his gun holster, but still asked Marcus with a low voice.

“I don’t know what for sure. But empty apartments and hallways like these typically mean gangs or some kind of drug operations here. Stay sharp.” Marcus also had his right hand on his holster while slowly moving forward.

The apartment they were looking for was 404, a rather unfortunate number by any means. There was no one in the hallway, and it seemed that they could just slowly walk down without any trouble.

They were starting at 401, then 402, 403. When they almost got to 404, the door opened, and two young men with colorful hair and tattoos on their arms and shoulders strolled out from inside. The young man on the left, with green, blue and red hair on his head, had a metal pipe in his hand; the one on the right, with yellow, orange and red hair on his head, held a long bike chain connected to a metal ball.

“My my, what have we here?” The young man with green and blue hair holding a metal pipe laughed out loud: “Never thought someone would come to our floor like this.”

“What can we help you slick gentlemen with?” The young man with yellow and orange hair spun the metal ball with his hand and fingers: “But I’ve gotta tell you, this is no place for classy folks like you.”