1960: My uncle is the FBI Director

Chapter 17 Are you alright? You actually believed something like that?

Back at the station, they encountered Kahor at the entrance, where he was being interviewed by the media, with flashbulbs clicking everywhere.

Bernie sneered and secretly made a shooting gesture at Carhorse.

Theodore looked at him like he was an idiot and, before he could speak, told him to call his homicide squad colleagues to help keep an eye on the registered evidence, while he ran off to the medical examiner's office.

Now that the conflict between the patrol department and the homicide squad is out in the open, we have to be wary of some of their underhanded tactics.

Theodore didn't like these things, but he wasn't stupid.

Samuel seemed to have received some prior notice, as he performed an autopsy on Joan first.

This made Theodore feel a little flattered.

When he arrived, the autopsy was halfway through. Samuel was in the autopsy room with several young forensic pathologists, dissecting and teaching them. He saw Theodore through the glass, chuckled, and waved his finger in the air to let him in.

Theodore was naturally not afraid to go into the dissection room, but there was no need to invite trouble for himself, as it didn't smell good.

Seeing that he didn't move, Samuel gave him a few instructions and then limped out.

He took off his gloves and mask, took a swig of alcohol, and then dictated the autopsy results to Theodore.

“The fatal wound was at the back of the head,” he hissed. “A frontotemporal contusion with a spider-like fracture of the skull.”

"All ribs were broken, and the liver was ruptured."

Theodore frowned. "Was it caused before death or after death?"

Samuel hiccuped, pulled up a chair and sat down before saying, "After death." He gestured with his hands, "The dead were first hit and killed, then kicked and shoved."

After a moment of silence, Samuel sighed and said, "The victim's right palm had skin defects, her nails were missing and partially detached, and she had defensive wounds on her arm. She fought back and scratched the killer."

Theodore said in a deep voice, "This may have further enraged the killer, leading to her being kicked after death."

Samuel concluded by saying, "There were no signs of sexual assault on his genitals."

Theodore looked at Samuel in surprise. "Not at all?"

Samuel stood up, somewhat displeased with Theodore's questioning. "Why don't you go in and take a look?"

Theodore changed the subject, asking about the physical evidence brought back by the forensic pathologist.

Samuel got angry just thinking about it. He pointed at a medical examiner splattered with blood and yelled, "Are you a pig?! Those are entrails! Entrails! If..."

He suddenly fell silent, and after a moment of silence, he pointed to the door, indicating that the forensic doctor had been 'punished' and removed from the stage.

Staring at the man as he took off his coat and came out, Samuel said, "They're not even as good as pigs. They're so stupid. They picked up something from the scene and left it scattered everywhere, bringing back a bunch of useless junk."

He grabbed a paper bag from the closet and tossed it to Theodore, still grumbling, "What's he doing bringing back a bag of underwear? Is he going to leave it for corpses? Change it every day? What a useless piece of trash!"

He gulped down a mouthful of wine. "Thank goodness it wasn't them going to the battlefield..."

Theodore wondered if he was hallucinating and looked at him questioningly, only to be met with a glare. "You were there at the time, why didn't you teach them a lesson?"

Theodore liked Samuel a lot; he was one of the few people here with whom he could discuss technology. Hearing this, he innocently shrugged and returned the bag of underwear. "I'm just a junior detective in the homicide squad. How could I dare to command them?"

“What if I give the orders and they ask me, ‘Do I know better than you?’ What if they just shrug and say, ‘Why don’t you do it?’” Theodore continued, shrugging his hands, “What am I supposed to do?”

Samuel ignored him and pulled two bags out of the cupboard and handed them to Theodore.

"I packed a whole bunch of stuff, but only these two are useful."

Theodore opened one of the paper bags, which contained injections and vials.

Seeing Theodore looking over, Samuel, holding the pill bottle, let out a strange laugh. "Testosterone. They always sell this at the gym. They'll tell you it not only builds muscle, but also makes you incredibly virile and erectile." He tossed the bottle aside. "Actually, it just makes you irritable, easily angered, and crazy, turning you into a gorilla. Hehehe~"

Theodore opened the second bag, which contained several props.

Samuel took two fingerprint cards out of the cabinet and tossed them over. "I picked two smooth ones and extracted two complete fingerprints from them. We'll compare them after we catch the person."

Speaking of fingerprints, Samuel perked up again; this technology had previously been shelved. Theodore used it to solve cases in 24 hours, discovering a new use for it—since finding the murderer in a needle-in-a-haystack manner was impossible, why not use it to identify the murderer?

Samuel has recently been going through the evidence in the Cold Case, extracting fingerprints from each item for filing, and he's having a lot of fun with it.

Theodore thanked Samuel for 'cutting in line' for Joan and told him that he would bring over the evidence he had collected later, asking him to check it again before leaving.

Back in his office, Theodore sensed something was off. He pulled Bernie aside to ask what was going on. Bernie first berated Carhorse before explaining the reason.

It turned out that Deputy Police Commissioner Kahor, who was being interviewed at the entrance, was talking at length about the murder case, showing off all the details he had to the media.

That alone wouldn't have angered Bernie. What truly angered him was that Carhol then changed the subject, saying that the case was an experiment, an exploration of the Felton Police Department's future police structure.

He mentioned that his patrol unit would soon be able to solve the case, at which point he would push for simplification of the police department's internal structure, merging redundant functions into the patrol unit.

He specifically named the homicide squad, announced its case closure rate, and criticized the homicide squad as no longer necessary, stating that it would be the first to be merged into the patrol department.

Kahol spoke at length about his ideal patrol department, listing its advantages and claiming that it would greatly alleviate government budget constraints, reduce redundant personnel, and achieve a clean, transparent, and efficient state.

However, the reporters were not interested in his vision for the future personnel structure of the police department; they were interested in the murder case.

When a reporter pressed him on whether the killer was Howard Jr., Kahuel smiled and replied, "The case is still under investigation, and it's not convenient to discuss it."

He revealed everything.

Theodore frowned as he listened.

He was quite certain the killer wasn't Howard Jr., and that Carhorn's public disclosure of the progress to the media was extremely detrimental to the investigation. The killer would become alert and might change their modus operandi, making the already difficult investigation even more challenging.

That's an idiot.

Theodore silently labeled Kahor in his mind and reminded himself to stay away from this person in the future, lest he be infected with the virus of stupidity.

Bernie was really angry; he'd been sitting there for ages, still fuming.

Theodore thought for a moment, took out his notebook, drew a little figure on it, wrote Kahor's name on it, and handed it to Bernie.

Bernie glanced at it, puzzled.

Theodore explained, “I’ve heard of a kind of voodoo where you write down the birth date of the person you want to curse, stick it on a little stick with their name on it, and prick the stick with a needle. Wherever you prick, that’s where they will feel pain.”

As he spoke, Theodore poked his head with his pen, then his torso, and finally his crotch.

Theodore disliked Cahor because his meddling made the already difficult July agreement even more hopeless. It was as if this man had bought Theodore a ticket to a perilous journey. No wonder he couldn't possibly like Cahor.

Bernie frowned at Theodore, looking worried. "Are you alright? You actually believed something like that?"

Theodore was speechless.

How dare you, someone who believes in ghosts, accuse me of cursing?

what?
Why do you do that?

Theodore put away his notebook. "Arguing with an idiot will only make you an idiot too. Let's find the murderer quickly and solve his case while we're at it."

Bernie nodded in agreement, but his gaze toward Theodore still held a hint of suspicion.

(End of this chapter)