Anna strolled leisurely after she had escaped the prying eyes and turned the corner of the building. The floor plan was embedded in her mind and she was walking towards the window.
According to the basic architecture of the 200-year-old University, the administrative rooms had double doors and windows: the external wooden doors that blended in with the regal architecture and the glass panels that shut the cold air in.
The latches on the doors and windows were old and pretty darn easy to unlatch from outside. She looked around and pulled out the pack of cigarette she had tucked into her back pocket. Pulling a cigarette out, she put the butt between her lips and lit it up.
Then, she went to work. She pulled out the metallic wire folded in the packet and straightened it out.
Her eyes flickered towards the main road and she estimated at what length she would need to bend the wire to reach the latch.
Her ears were perked up and she heard a sound from within the room that made her eyes widen.
No one was supposed to be in that room apart from the Dean, but somehow, a female voice could be heard. Anna couldn't make out the words but the Dean was responding.
It was not a recording and certainly not a phone, considering how clear the voice was. There was someone in that room. She turned around, keeping her back to the window and tried to listen in.
The wire was hidden at her side, her body between the sight of anyone walking on the main road.
The voices ceased. But there was no sound of the heavy wooden door. Nothing to show that the people had left except for the eerie silence.
Anna huffed and placed the specialized medical camera she had received in her mail box a few days ago and tucked it on the wire. She slid it inside for good measure and unlocked her cellphone. She opened her camera and viewed the insides.
At first, she saw the pristine room and then something unmoving on the ground. She twisted the wire for a better look and stilled.
She pocketed her cellphone immediately, making sure to take a video before doing so. She slid the wire out and stowed the camera away carefully.
And then she thought. Another five minutes went by and no shouts came. No one had entered the room after she left the reception area and no one had left. The secretary hadn't entered to check on the man, either.
With bated breath, she readjusted the wire and leaned close to the wall to slide it back into the crack between the window and the frame.
She had a few minutes to go in and out. No more than that.
The latch clicked and she pried her finger in to open it. The problem was the glass door that locked from inside.
She looked down at her dirty converse and groaned. She slid her foot out and looked at the socks. These didn't leave any lint. Good. She pushed herself on top of the ledge and looked at the glass door.
Standard lock, could be opened easily. She pried the wire in the gap and jiggled it around. She heard the click and victoriously slid it open a crack. The glass left no movement mark on the rug, so she jumped off the ledge and landed inside the room.
Her cellphone was out again and she was clicking pictures of the scene.
Prominently on the chest was torn clothes and the ribs gaping open. It looked like some animal had torn into him… but after his death.
The tongue had rolled back and the eyes were wide. Signs of asphyxiation. But there was no struggle marks or marks of strangulation. No finger prints or object marks around the neck.
No blood.
Strangely enough, much like her analysis, there was animal fur sticking to the rug near the body. She clicked more pictures. She produced one of the plastic bags from her pocket and was happy she kept these at hand at all times.
She turned it inside out and pinched the fur so that it went in before sealing it. Not contaminated. Good job.
But this was not why she needed to go in. The locker. She needed to get into the locker and get the records. She made her way to it and crouched down, making sure her skin didn't touch any surfaces.
She couldn't use any powders to get print marks and the lock was too new to have wear marks on the keypad. So, she went the old-fashioned way. She breathed hot air on it, fogging up the surface. She clicked the picture and pushed her phone back.
She would get her hands on it later.
She didn't like breathing on things, but she knew well that the police didn't care to trace microbe samples to individuals to solve crimes.
She pocketed all the information, took a good look around the room, clicking pictures of everything and then slid out of the room, leaving everything just as it had been.
Like she hadn't come anywhere near the room.
She slid on the shoes once she was outside and made her way out. The ashes on the floor were stomped on and dispersed into the ground while the stub of the cigarette was back inside her little cigarette box, safe with her other equipment.
She walked away and into the administrative building. She even made a show of returning from the bathroom and sat down on her seat.
Ladislas stared at her, his eyes holding the curiosity of the universe.
Twenty minutes.
She'd been gone for twenty minutes. The perfect amount of time for a human to go and return from the washroom. But she had not gone to the washroom. His chat with the receptionist halted and she perked up.
"I'll go check on the Dean. Don't wander off," the secretary glared at them.
"Don't worry, love. I'll keep an eye on them," Ladislas supplied helpfully. The secretary scurried in, knocking on the door furiously before she grew worried and opened the door with her key.
Anna waited for it. And it came.