Jack stepped into the room from which the young Asian man had fled. The abandoned factory had no power supply, and even during the day, the interior was pitch dark.
With the aid of the tactical flashlight attached to his Glock, he discovered the body of a middle-aged white male.
Half an hour later, Angela, who was starting to show her pregnancy, and John arrived at the scene.
"What's the situation?"
Jack, having completed a preliminary examination of the body, removed his rubber gloves and shared his findings.
"White male, approximately 40-45 years old. The livor mortis is still spreading, so the estimated time of death is less than 12 hours. The exact time will have to be determined by the medical examiner. As for the cause of death, it's pretty clear—murder."
Jack pointed to the corpse's neck. "The cervical vertebrae are dislocated. Whoever did this was very professional and cold-blooded—instantaneous fatality."
Jack's forensic skills had recently leveled up through self-study, making him competent enough to handle the responsibilities of a coroner in smaller jurisdictions.
Angela frowned, knowing that such professional killing techniques typically indicated bigger trouble. The more skilled the perpetrator, the fewer clues they left behind, and the more complex the motives for the murder.
"Have you surveyed the scene?"
"Lucy is canvassing the area. This place has been abandoned for a long time, with no cameras and few visitors, not even many homeless people." Jack gestured outside.
"Speaking of the homeless, I found something odd."
He pulled out an evidence bag. "The body had no ID or driver's license, but I found this."
Angela took the evidence bag and glanced inside, puzzled. "A meal voucher for a soup kitchen? Was this guy homeless?"
"But his clothes are brand new."
Jack nodded. "Exactly, brand new, from head to toe. A recently wealthy homeless person. Could that be why he was targeted?"
Angela considered this for a moment and then asked, "Did you check his 'hobo wallet'?"
Jack was taken aback. "What's that?"
"Sometimes, homeless people stash their valuables inside their shoes. We call it a 'hobo wallet.'" Angela's expression suggested she was amused to have stumped Jack.
Since joining the precinct, Jack's relentless pursuit of knowledge had put considerable pressure on the veteran officers. Skills and insights they had accumulated over years, even decades, Jack had almost fully absorbed in less than a year.
Putting his gloves back on, Jack removed the dead man's shoes and found something inside the left one.
"A key card?"
"Where's it from?" Angela peered over his shoulder.
"An SRO (Single Room Occupancy hotel) in the downtown area." Jack placed the key card into another evidence bag.
"Got time to check it out? I've heard there's a Michelin-starred dessert place nearby," Angela suggested.
Jack, of course, couldn't refuse the opportunity to join a detective on a case. It meant valuable experience points.
As they walked to the entrance of the abandoned factory, they saw John and Lucy talking to a man in a work uniform. Behind him was a van with a security company logo matching the one on his uniform.
Jack opened the patrol car's trunk, took out their prepared lunches, and handed the evidence bags and the food to Lucy.
"What are you guys discussing?"
John shrugged. "The only camera is broken, so no surveillance footage."
The worker spoke with a distinct rhythm characteristic of his race: "It's been busted for a week, otherwise they wouldn't have called me to fix it."
Lucy looked puzzled at the lunchbox in her hand. "Isn't it too early for lunch? It's only ten o'clock."
"No, this is for you and John. The forensics team won't be here for another couple of hours. You and John need to stay at the scene. Angela and I are heading to the SRO downtown to investigate. She said there's a great dessert place nearby, and I've heard their Italian food is fantastic. You know me, once I taste something, I can replicate it."
Both John and Lucy showed mixed feelings, envious that Jack got to go with Angela while also looking forward to tasting his recreation of that supposedly amazing Italian food later.
Jack's culinary skills were well recognized. The most incredible part was his ability to recreate any dish he had tasted with remarkable accuracy. Whether it was a grandmother's secret recipe or a special homemade sauce, Jack could replicate them all.
Fortunately, Jack's lunchboxes always contained a variety of delicious options. Lucy peeked inside and, smiling, placed it in the trunk of the patrol car John had arrived in.
---
"This place calls itself a hotel-style apartment?" Jack was incredulous as he entered the downtown SRO.
The elevator was rusted, and the hallway decor was dated to at least the mid-20th century. The walls were peeling, the stairwell was littered with needles and suspicious stains, and the overhead fluorescent lights flickered ominously.
If it were nighttime, Jack doubted he'd have the courage to walk in alone. The place seemed perfect for a haunted house setup.
Even the dingy apartment his parents had left him in the Lower Town had a better environment than this. The surprising part was this was downtown, not some crime-ridden, dilapidated slum where properties were virtually worthless.
"The rent here is only $800 a month. Many families of three are willing to pay a bit extra to bribe the manager and squeeze into these less-than-10-square-meter rooms." Angela rolled her eyes.
Jack, thinking of those who lived in underground garages in Beijing, understood. LA, after all, was the second-largest city in North America. This wasn't unexpected.
Angela waved the key card she had just obtained from the hotel manager. "The manager said the victim checked in three days ago under the name Joe Delacruz."
"He prepaid for a week, all in cash."
As she swiped the card and opened the door, they found a bare-bones room with almost no furniture. By the window were two single beds and a nightstand, while the floor was scattered with clothing and shoe packaging. On one of the beds lay two pizza boxes.
Jack shut the door behind him, briefly peeked into the bathroom, and then closed it again, deciding to avoid a closer look before lunch.
"It looks like Joe bought quite a few things." Angela crouched to inspect the packaging on the floor.
"New clothes, new shoes... wait, two different shoe sizes? That might be a clue."
Jack pointed to the bathroom. "There are two sets of toothbrushes on the sink. Seems like Joe had company the hotel manager didn't mention."
"In places like this, they don't care. As long as they get paid, they stay silent." Angela flipped the mattress and found two rolls of cash underneath.
"Hmm, this looks like at least five or six thousand dollars." Jack picked up a roll and was surprised to see they were all hundred-dollar bills, which were rare in daily transactions. Most people used twenties, with fifties being uncommon.
Just then, the door beeped and opened. A pale, short, and frail-looking white man stepped inside. He froze upon seeing Jack in his patrol uniform and Angela in plain clothes but with a badge on her belt.
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