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Chapter 3 - First Rose Part 3

Black roses, a symbol of hatred, death and a curse. Single stalk, hands in prayer with circles of intestine.

Could it be that this banker has been killed by a jilted lover? Or by a delirious madman?

Patrick has excused himself out of the room, but I was still in the crime scene, looking and pondering about the body arranged so deliberately in the bathtub.

A lot of theories appeared in my mind, there is just so many possibilities, but it is always bad when a criminal intentionally left an item in the crime scene.

It indicates a message, usually showing that the victim has a strong purpose of doing this, or even worse, to send a mockery towards the police force.

The last thing I needed was another serial killer like ten years ago.

A religious fanatic had gone about killing people in the name of an obscure god, which has ended up in a nasty strings of events.

The worst thing about serial killers is that media swarms around the case like vultures- there's much fascination about the morbid in the public, and they're always ready to pounce and attack the police department like hungry predator.

The relationship between media and the police has always been a strained one- the media always wanted to entertain the public, and what's better to do than to downplay the polices' achievements? Make the police seem like incompetent fools?

Schadenfreude has always been ingrained in human psychology.

Humans are always looking to find people lower and more debauched than them, then veil it with hypocrisy and fake pity.

As if on an instinct, I gave an express order to the police officer beside me.

"No one should know about the rose, especially the media. The official word is that this is most likely a crime of passion. Also, ask my subordinates back in the office to prepare a list of witnesses who last saw the victim during the conference. And like always, investigate his background thoroughly, check if he has ties with any goons or any jilted lovers. I expect a thorough report when I return."

"Y-yes, sir."

"Also while you're at it, why don't you tell that posh new officer puking his guts out to return and help with the research instead of dilly-dallying here."

"O-of course, sir."

To be honest, it would be troublesome if the mafia were involved.

But, frankly- it didn't seem like they are. They wouldn't do something this elaborate, given the government crackdown on organized crime the recent years.

No, they would have been efficient and stealthy to not attract the attention of the media.

This crime just screams of a narcissistic criminal searching for attention.

This, also, is the fault of media who are always painting those criminals in a godly, almost fascinating fashion.

That was always the narrative, a charming psychopath who succeeds to fool the inept police force.

But, I'm not going to let this criminal to get what he wants. I will catch him before that.

A quick consultation with the forensics told me that there has been nothing left of the criminal, no fingerprints, no trace, nothing.

And the criminal is likely to have some knowledge about human anatomy, all the cuts were clean and neat. The criminal knows what he's doing.

Not a crime of passion- this is the work of someone cold and methodical. A surgeon of some sorts, or a mortician.

Someone with a sick, twisted taste.