Larry crouched so the woman, sitting on a sofa outside the waiting room, could look him in the eyes. Trying to soften his voice, he said, "Ma'am, don't cry just yet. Sit here and wait for the comparison results. Maybe it's not time to worry yet!"
Mistakes were common, even more so in desperate situations like this. When trying to determine the identity of a minor victim, errors could be made very easily.
Ángel, on the other hand, was speaking with the man, who seemed to have stronger self-control.
"Let's go to the room to wait for the results. It's more comfortable to sit there, trust me."
"Follow me, we can talk about whatever you want while we wait." The two, confused, followed Larry to the break room like lifeless puppets.
Once inside, Ángel turned on a recorder and placed it on the table, along with two glasses of water and a pack of tissues.
Larry, trying not to overwhelm them with questions, tactfully asked, "Do you have any photos of Greta Meyer?"
Greta's father, Keller Meyer, pulled a small photo album from his jacket and handed it to Larry, who took it in silence.
When Larry looked at the photograph of Miss Greta, she seemed to embody purity itself. Her face shone with a soft, ethereal light, and her large, bright eyes reflected an unblemished nobility, as if she had never known the weight of sin in this world.
Looking at her, he could feel the beauty of life. She was a young girl in her prime, but just by seeing this photograph, Larry knew she was the victim.
But thinking now about the state of the morgue freezer, Larry returned the photos to Keller, who had been evaluating his expression the entire time, as if trying to read the answer in his eyes.
"Can you recall what kind of friends your daughter had? For example, high school friends, elementary school friends she's still in touch with, or classmates she frequently communicates with. Do you remember if they were boys or girls?" Larry tried not to reveal anything with his words; it wasn't his place to tell these parents their daughter was dead without scientific evidence.
The question caught their attention, and little by little, they calmed down from their deep pain. They struggled to remember.
Greta's mother thought for a moment and said in a trembling voice, "Greta is a very cheerful girl, she loves to laugh, so she has many friends. More than twenty friends have visited our house. Of them, I only remember a few names, and I know some of her close friends relatively well."
"Do you remember their names?" Ángel pressed a little further.
"Yes, one of them is Alejandro, he loves music, while the other boy is Nicolás… But the ones she spends the most time with are her friends, Valeria and Camila, though all five of them have been childhood friends."
"Also, the parents of our five families know each other quite well," Keller added. Given the situation, he didn't want to bring trouble to his daughter's friends.
"That's true, last year, the five of us went to Disneyland together."
"Interesting, it seems like the parents are very close…"
Keller nodded while holding back tears and said, "Basically, we all work in government offices. The residential area where we live isn't far apart, so over time, we got to know each other."
Larry made small observations and quickly learned something: these two people were unaware that their daughter had a tendency to fall in love at an early age.
At this point, he didn't think Greta Meyer was the kind of teenager who could harm someone else.
"That will be enough for now. I will personally come back when the DNA test results are revealed," Larry said in a calm tone before looking away from the desperate couple.
He was too busy. He still had to classify every piece of collected evidence to reconstruct a clear timeline, so he left Ángel in charge of informing the victim's parents.
Four hours later, Larry's phone vibrated.
It was a message from Dexter. The DNA comparison results had arrived.
The result was indisputable: the deceased was, without a doubt, the Mayer's daughter.
However, the psychological distraction strategy Larry had applied earlier had worked. When the parents received the news, their reactions were much more contained than when they had first entered the forensic center.
Larry showed them the test papers and spoke with the seriousness the moment demanded: "The results have been released… Unfortunately, the deceased is your daughter, Greta Meyer."
Greta Meyer's mother covered her face with both hands and broke into sobs, her body shaking with broken cries. Beside her, her husband struggled to keep his jaw clenched, but the trembling in his cheeks betrayed him.
"I want to see my daughter!" Keller exclaimed desperately.
Larry shook his head. He couldn't give in to compassion at that moment; allowing them to see the body in that state would only worsen their trauma and hinder their emotional recovery.
"I wouldn't recommend it." Larry wouldn't subject this poor couple to an image they would never be able to erase from their minds. Their lives would likely change forever, but at least he would leave them with a good memory of their daughter, not the girl currently lying in the morgue freezer.
"Understand that if your daughter's identity could have been confirmed just by her appearance, we wouldn't have had to investigate all the high schools in the area where she was found."
Larry let his words sink into the hearts of these desperate parents before continuing: "Now, please cooperate with the investigation. Catching the killer and ensuring they don't go unpunished… That will be the best justice for Greta Meyer, trust me."
Keller's eyes were bloodshot, his face streaked with tears, but even so, he nodded vigorously. "We'll help in any way you need!"
"Keep this in mind, I want the criminal to pay for their crimes just as much as you do."
Greta Meyer's mother wiped her face with a tissue, trying to control her emotions, and grabbed Larry's hands with trembling fingers. "I understand why you won't let me see her, but if I can't, I'll never feel like she's truly gone from this world. But I suppose my poor baby must have been left in a terrible state… I will leave my fury in your hands. Please, catch the bastard who took my only daughter."
Larry squeezed her hand firmly. "Yes, I promise both of you that I will catch them. They won't escape without paying in life for what they did to your daughter."
Keller looked into Larry's eyes. Those cold eyes, filled with sinister intentions, gave him the certainty that the man before him was someone dedicated to his work—someone who wouldn't rest until he fulfilled his promises.
"Come on, dear, we need to pray for our little Greta to rest in peace."
"Yes…"
"One last thing—although we shouldn't be asking this now, in order to catch the killer as soon as possible, we need to go to her house to look for clues. Do you think that's appropriate?"
"You can search anywhere, you have my approval." Kaller, Greta's father, had murder in his eyes. If he was holding back now, it was because of his wife, but a part of him wanted to take revenge with his own hands.
Ángel, standing behind Larry, said, "We need to hurry."
Larry, of course, had no objections. When they went downstairs, they saw Sergeant Doakes and four other men standing in the hallway.
Without exchanging pleasantries, they briefly introduced themselves and got ready to leave.
At that moment, the glass door of the center was forcefully pushed open, producing a loud metallic noise.
Two young figures came running in, and Larry's pupils shrank.
He looked at Ángel, then at the police recorder in his hands, and then behind them.
Ángel immediately understood after seeing this reaction.
He subtly turned, used his back to block the view, pulled out the police recorder, and slipped it into Max's chest pocket as he was preparing to assist Larry with the investigation.
As foolish as Max could be, he understood what that meant. His phone vibrated, and sure enough, Larry had sent him a message.
[Stay behind to observe her two students and take good notes. Also, remember to collect fingerprints, blood samples, and statements from everyone.]
The two students who had rushed in were stunned to see Mr. and Mrs. Mayer and ran toward them.
The boy stared at Kaller and asked in a trembling voice, "Is it really her?"
The girl beside him asked in a more reserved tone, "It can't be... is it really Greta?"
Greta's father nodded and forced a faint movement of his lips to feign strength.
"Nicolás, Camila, why are you here instead of attending class?"
Larry knew they were good friends of Greta and that they attended the same class. He had asked Max to receive them just to see if there was anything suspicious about them. After all, he could listen to the recording when he returned.
Camila was already crying, thick tears streaming from her eyes.
With her tall and slender figure, not even the school uniform could hide her beauty. It was incredible that two such beautiful girls were such close friends.
"Martha, we just wanted to come and see if it was really Greta. When the police arrived, they started asking us questions," Camila explained how they had learned that the police were at the school due to Greta's disappearance.
Greta's mother looked around and saw so many police officers waiting, so she didn't say anything else and asked, "How did you get here?"
Nicolás pointed toward the door. "I asked my dad to send a driver to bring us here. Don't worry, we'll be back at school soon."
Greta's mother stretched her head to see the car outside and nodded with reddened eyes.
"Don't stay too long—go back to school soon!"
…
Larry remained silent the entire way.
The deep wrinkles on Sergeant Doakes' forehead never eased from start to finish.
"Since we had nothing, we could only start by investigating the victim's social connections, but this will inevitably affect the students in her class."
After saying this, Sergeant Doakes murmured, "I spoke with her teacher before coming. The school is taking a very tough stance and is unwilling to cooperate. On top of that, high-ranking political figures are getting involved."