December 27, 2005, Miami Metropolitan Police Department.
Early in the morning, Larry entered the precinct courtyard.
He had barely slept that night.
Although he had long become desensitized to the crimes he solved and studied, every time he closed his eyes, he dreamt of all the details of the case he had discussed with his family.
The perfectly arranged corpses, the biblical messages, and the lamb—he was trapped in a space filled with information he couldn't use to catch the criminal.
There was no doubt he would catch him. He just needed the killer to start committing crimes again so he could study him.
He still didn't know what he would do with all that information, but he was certain he would catch him. And when that moment came, Larry hoped he would have the patience to put him behind bars. Because if he started killing criminals like some kind of grim reaper, he feared that the urge to kill would become addictive.
If that were the case, even all the criminals in the country wouldn't be enough to satisfy his addiction.
His job was already enough for him—and at least this one was legal.
Just as he parked his car, Captain Tom Matthews, LaGuerta's superior and practically the head of the entire department, appeared in front of the glass doors of the precinct. He hadn't been seen around for days, but now he suddenly showed up and looked towards the entrance.
At the same time, Larry's cellphone rang. It was Inspector Mike Lowrey calling.
"Forensic Doctor Luk, my investigation has hit a dead end. Have you reviewed the documents?"
"Mmm."
"If you have time, could you come to the Midtown District Criminal Police Division? I'd like you to help me review some relevant investigation materials. My superiors are putting pressure on me, and we have a special project meeting this afternoon."
"I'll check my schedule and get back to you."
Larry knew that many cases involved celebrities, powerful businessmen, or politicians. Detectives handling these kinds of crimes were usually under immense social pressure because the longer the case dragged on, the harder it became to solve.
Besides, Inspector Mike Lowrey was a pragmatic man—something Larry deeply appreciated.
As he opened the car door and stepped out, Captain Tom Matthews had already spotted him and hurried over with his usual friendly smile.
"Forensic Doctor Luk, I heard you took over the Christmas case. Do you have any leads?"
Larry nodded slightly and paused before responding, "Everything is going well. Our team is about to attend a special project meeting."
After hearing that, Captain Tom Matthews gave Larry a light pat on the arm.
"If you run into any difficulties, report them immediately. Solving this case is our top priority. You're new here, so if you have any doubts, don't hesitate to ask. We'll be happy to help anytime."
Tom Matthews knew Larry well—after all, he was the one secretly overseeing him at the request of the department's higher-ups.
"Alright, get to work!"
Larry didn't respond to the captain's words. He simply watched him walk up the stairs with a smile.
"Oh," Larry scoffed slightly. What kind of condolence and concern was that?
It was much easier to understand contempt or expressions of disgust than compliments.
Thinking about this, Larry called Max, and together they headed straight to the meeting room for the morning session.
Meanwhile, he also kept an eye on the case Mike had asked for his help with. Assisting detectives from different places was part of his job. His time as a student had been hectic—not only had he worked with the FBI, but he had also collaborated with other departments under his professor's guidance.
"Have you solved it already?" Max asked, knowing Larry's reputation—that was precisely why he had requested to be his apprentice.
"This? It's just mental work…" Larry replied as they reached the homicide department's meeting room.
The door was slightly ajar, so they pushed it open and entered.
In the center of the room was a long table covered with stacks of paper documents.
On the wall near the door was a whiteboard with the words "The Christmas Case," along with Larry's sketch of the suspect and some crime scene photos pinned to it.
At the sound of the door opening, the detectives and forensic analysts assisting Larry with data analysis looked up.
"Come in quickly, our reinforcements have arrived!" Doakes had assembled a formal team to solve the case.
"We'll help Forensic Doctor Luk dig through this mountain of crap!" Doakes' attitude had changed overnight.
"Are you surprised?" Larry glanced at Ángel and nodded slightly at the question.
"Do we have everything about the victim's life?"
"Yes, including all of their employees. We gathered this information while you were resting."
"In addition to details about personnel from various companies they had business ties with, we've marked every person the victim knew."
The detectives in the group looked at the pile of documents with grim expressions. Doakes, of course, wasn't going to help them go through all the paperwork.
"Damn, this is insane."
Statements from all the women they had managed to interview yesterday were on the table, along with details about their lives and what they had done in the days leading up to the murder.
Their partners, friends, cousins—everything was documented and laid out on the table.
"This is going to take forever."
Larry said nothing. He simply sat down and began reading the files carefully.
Of course, Max followed Larry's lead and examined the information alongside his mentor.
Ángel dropped the box he was carrying, reluctantly sat down, and joined in.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the rustling of paper.
Larry flipped through the pages, mentally reconstructing the victim's entire life.
Work, social life, making friends, and yes—owning a dog. Judging by its shiny golden fur, it must have been well taken care of.
"Where was the victim's dog groomed and bathed?" At that moment, Larry posed the question while looking at a photo of the dog.
Several detectives lifted their heads and looked at Larry. "Yes, we investigated that."
"From what we found, the victim frequently took their dog to a veterinary hospital across from their workplace."
That made sense—dropping the dog off across the street from work so they could pick it up at the end of the day.
Larry nodded, picked up the sixth box of files, and as he opened it, some photos fell to the floor, catching his attention.
"This is interesting."