Detective Laith Alazraq fought down the anxious serpent in his stomach, taking in the sight of the murdered PATET Specialist. Face-down, one arm was stretched out before him and the other curled against his torso, as if he might have tried to push himself up and reach for the door. The unimpressive and cramped apartment was otherwise undisturbed. This was one of many similarities between the murder of Grot Antrum and Cassia Grove, the others being the fact that he had been stabbed in the back – through the kidney – and had bled to death in his own foyer. Because there was no carpet here to soak up the blood, a puddle had formed around the body, now dark and dried against the floor, attributing to the putrid smell in the air.

The two major differences with this crime scene, as far as Laith could see, were that the body had not been found until a few days after the homicide had taken place and that the murder weapon used in this crime was missing. He supposed, with the disappearance of her husband, whoever he was, Cassia Grove’s body would not have been found right away, either, were it not for the trusty medical monitor she wore around her wrist.

Captain Olivia Fox stood beside him, almost a head shorter but with a presence that oozed an imposing character, arms crossed as she, too, took in the crime scene. Forensic analysts worked on the body, but there was little for them to learn. In the kitchen off to the left, a mouldy, half-cooked steak sat atop the biomass stove. Antrum might have been in the middle of cooking it when whoever had killed him stopped by. Streaks of rust ran down the sides of the stove, and Laith noticed that most of the furniture was quite old and worn. It struck him as a curious thing, and he couldn't quite put his finger on why that was.

“The officers went to his workplace first to bring him in, but his assistant told them he hadn’t been in for the past few days. Apparently, his team at PATET HQ were under the impression that he was taking a few mental health days,” Captain Fox told him quietly, the corners of her mouth curving downwards. “So, officers went to his apartment in the Forest. There was no response at the door, but PATET let them know that the man was inside, or at least his Slate was. Since he wasn’t responding to his Slate, and he also wasn’t responding to the door, they let themselves in. This is what they found.”

“I can’t be the only one who finds similarities with the murder of Cassia Grove,” Laith said, turning away from the body and rubbing his temple. “You see them, too, don’t you?”

“I knew you would mention that,” the Captain said, shaking her head. “There are some similarities, but there are also significant differences, and we can’t jump to conclusions. Antrum was stabbed in the back, like Grove. However, the knife that was used to kill him is missing. I suppose it could have been a knife from the decedent’s kitchen, as was the case with Grove, but we can’t be certain.”

“Sounds like more similarities than differences to me,” Laith noted. “I don’t think that’s a coincidence. These two murders were committed by the same person. There are enough similarities to assume they’re connected.”

“Here’s one more,” Captain Fox added. “Footage from the surveillance cameras of this floor of the apartment building is apparently missing the most important few minutes we need in order to see who was responsible for this murder. It was quick. In and out. Altogether, about ten minutes were missing from the surveillance camera footage. We don’t know if whoever did it returned to the apartment with Antrum, or if they followed him in, or if they were waiting for him when he returned from work that day. We’re still checking footage from surrounding streets, but there are a lot of people walking around on the streets, and no particular way to prove that any one of them was here.”

“So, whoever it is, they’re still playing around with PATET,” Laith murmured with a frown. “Which means they’re playing around with us. We’re not just working without PATET, we’re working with a PATET that can’t be trusted. Information is there one day and gone the next.” He ruffled his hair in frustration. “We need to check to see if maybe the surveillance footage of the streets surrounding this building could show us any familiar faces. Not that it would do us much good unless we can show that they entered or exited this building.”

“It’d be circumstantial at best,” Captain Fox agreed grimly. “Anyone could argue that they might have been going to another apartment, even on this very floor, since the footage is completely missing.” She sighed, placing her hands on her hips. “Listen, Detective. If Antrum was the inside link that helped Cassia Grove and the false Aster Lockwood commit identity fraud and get into the city, there is the possibility that he was the blackmailer. Perhaps even this Invidia character. After all, he would be in the perfect position to erase all of the information that we’ve been missing so far. He fits.”

“If he was threatening Cassia Grove or the fake Lockwood, I imagine it was for something substantial in return,” Laith said. “Why would he get rid of them if they were helping him line his pockets, so to speak?”

“Maybe they decided to stop,” Olivia suggested. “You remember the messages between husband and wife, don’t you?” Laith was impressed. She certainly had been keeping up with the case reports and everything he’d collected. He nodded. “Well, one of the conversations alluded to the fact that Cassia had been apparently meeting with someone. A man. And this so-called Aster was asking her if she was going to see him again. I’d assumed that was the lover – this Invidia character – but I think now that perhaps it was Grot.”

Laith chewed on the inside of his cheek absentmindedly as he considered this. “You think she was meeting up with Grot to pay him to keep quiet? Why wouldn’t they simply tell him that they would take him down with them if he ever told the police what they’d done? After all, he’d be implicated regardless.”

The Captain was quiet as she considered this, and Laith found himself answering his own questions. Maybe Grot had covered his tracks and wasn’t concerned that anyone would be able to link the identity fraud to him specifically. Maybe he’d used a supervisor’s or colleague’s account and made it look like it was their doing, not his. Maybe this false Aster never gave into his threats and blackmail, but Cassia was, by all accounts, a goody-two-shoes who wanted to work hard and get as far away from her family reputation and whatever she had done in the past. She’d never gotten into any kind of trouble in Heliopolis, and, according to her Fleur Verdi, her assistant, everything she did in Nymphaeales was above-board. In other words, it wasn’t hard to imagine that Cassia Grove wasn’t the type to allow anything to rock the boat, especially not when she was so close to having the life she had wanted all along. She could have even divorced Lockwood, now that she had obtained citizenship, and could have lived her life freely.

So, maybe Antrum blackmails her. The fake Aster wouldn’t sit down and be blackmailed, but Cassia’s not the fighting type. She goes along with the blackmail, and maybe that’s enough to satisfy Antrum for a while. And then, as time passes and she gains courage, Cassia decides she’s not going to live under Grot Antrum’s thumb anymore and stops paying him to stay quiet. She stands up to him. A few months pass, and she won’t break, so Antrum gets angry or desperate or both. He confronts her at her home and ends up killing her--

Highly improbable, though, Laith thought as he glanced back at the decomposing body of Grot Antrum. Antrum didn’t do this to himself, and the modus operandi is the almost completely the same in both murders. The only difference, really, is the missing knife…

Hold on.

“The murder weapon in the Grove crime scene was left there,” Laith said slowly.

“What was that, Detective?” Captain Fox asked, turning to him.

“The knife in Cassia Grove’s back,” he clarified. “It was left at the scene of the crime. If you killed someone – hypothetically – would you leave the murder weapon behind, knowing that your prints could be identified?”

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“Maybe whoever it was freaked out,” Olivia said with a shrug. “People make mistakes.”

“Yeah, but it was the only surface in the house with fingerprints, wasn’t it?” Laith asked. “I assume the forensic analysts checked the whole house for clues?”

“Of course,” Captain Fox replied. “It’s procedure. If they’d found something else they would have reported it.”

“Exactly,” Laith said, “but they didn’t find anything else. If you’re freaking out, and you’re not wearing gloves because apparently this person wasn’t wearing gloves, you’d probably leave prints on the door, on the floor, on the kitchen counters – something. But Grove’s killer didn’t leave a single other shred of physical evidence behind. No hair strands, no bodily fluids, no additional prints – nothing.”

“Okay, so he maybe he didn’t freak out,” Captain Fox said, following his train of thought. “What does that mean?”

“It means that the knife was left there on purpose,” Laith said. “It means that whoever left it behind knew beyond any doubt that there would be no way their prints would be found on the PATET databases. It means, Captain, that the killer was taunting us all along.”

☀️ ☀️ ☀️

“No prints found in Antrum’s apartment,” Captain Fox said, putting her Slate away in her pocket. Beside her, Laith stared out at the passing cityscape, the police headquarters just minutes away. From up here on the Official Quarter, one could almost survey all of Central Heliopolis, stretching far out into the horizon. Behind them, the familiar helical structure of Greenland Farm glittered in the late afternoon sun. “You were right. This killer didn’t leave any prints or physical evidence behind.”

“It’s the same killer,” Laith said. He was almost certain of it now, though he could tell as soon as the words were out of his mouth that the Captain disagreed. “Nobody else knew what the murder of Cassia Grove was like – how and where she was stabbed, and under what circumstances. If the media had caught hold of that information and made it public, then maybe I’d consider the possibility of a second killer, perhaps even a copycat. But the only people who know about the details of her death are us and the person who murdered her. I don’t know how Grot Antrum fits into the whole picture here, but we know that he had allegedly helped Cassia and her husband commit identity fraud and get away with attempted murder. They left the knife in Cassia Grove’s back because they didn’t think we’d ever be able to match them. And they didn’t leave any evidence behind here because they knew that we would.”

“That’s very contradictory behaviour for the same killer to present,” Captain Fox countered with a single shake of her head.

“Is it?” Laith asked, turning back to her. “Cassia Grove’s killer knew that they’d be safe, probably because they knew that PATET couldn’t identify them. Maybe they had an insider in PATET helping them out. Someone we know already helped two other people commit a crime and fool PATET. Now, Grot’s dead, and the killer conveniently takes the murder weapon with him… and there are no prints to run. Or maybe there are more traitors at PATET HQ than we know of.”

“Leave that to the team that is investigating this matter,” Fox said. “Let’s just focus on finding our killer. Talk to the man in the hospital. Find out who he really is. Aster Lockwood might have a legitimate reason to want Grove and her husband out of the picture, but the fake might have also had a reason to get rid of her.”

Laith couldn’t argue with that. When he’d first started this case, he had learned that Cassia Grove was a law-abiding, professional woman with no enemies to speak of. Now she had, at the very least, one enemy. Maybe more.

☀️ ☀️ ☀️

The false Aster Lockwood was still in his hospital room, and, according to the guards posted outside the door, had not left the room at all since last Laith had been there. And, according to the nurse at the nurse’s station, the man would be ready to leave the hospital in just a day or two, which meant they would then have to make arrangements to move him to the Heliopolis PD headquarters, where suspects in a case could stay under observation.

Laith had seen the rooms they gave suspects. They were comfortable, and felt more like modest hotel rooms than the holding-cell type of contraption that was brought to mind when a suspect realized that they’d need to spend a certain amount of time under observation. Most of the time, these rooms were empty; cases were closed before such accommodation was needed. But every now and then, someone would come along and have to stay for a night or two. The false Aster Lockwood, Laith mused, would probably have to stay put there for at least a few nights until this whole PATET mess was figured out.

In fact, the real Aster Lockwood was being set up in his own room – not only because he was a suspect (and he certainly was that, Laith told himself), but also because the man had nowhere else to go. What had apparently been his apartment had been sold by the fake Aster almost as soon as he arrived from Novus Atlantis, and later on the man had purchased his home in the Hills right before going back to Novus Atlantis to marry Cassia Grove and bringing her to Heliopolis. That must have been the agreement they’d had. He would get to take Aster Lockwood’s identity and live a life of wealth – though, of course, Laith was certain the man would not have become the leader of a company like Greenland Farm if he didn’t have the business savvy and the brains to make it work – and in return he would also return to ensure that Cassia could also move to Heliopolis and start a new life there.

Laith looked through the small window on the hospital room door before stepping inside, slipping his Slate out of his jacket pocket and turning on its recorder by habit. “Aster Lockwood” was lying down, arm thrown over his eyes, and for a moment Laith thought perhaps he was sleeping. As he approached, however, the man flung his arm away from his head and turned to stare at the detective with a suspicious narrowing of his eyes.

“Hello, Mr. Lockwood,” Laith said quietly, pulling up a chair and taking a seat. “The nurse tells me you’re doing much better.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” the man replied gruffly, the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent than they had been the last time Laith had seen him. “What do you want, Detective? Did you find out who killed my wife?”

“Unfortunately not,” Laith said in an apologetic tone. “It has been a rather confusing case. I’ve uncovered quite a lot about Ms. Grove, and quite a lot about you in the process, but nothing that could point me towards her murderer. Perhaps you can point me in the right direction.”

“I don’t know anything,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “What’s taking so long to find the killer, anyway? Isn’t it supposed to be easy for you guys to fight crime when PATET does all the work for you?”

Laith tilted his head. “Well, it usually is,” he admitted. “That is, unless someone starts tampering with it.” The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Laith continued. “You see, Mr… Lockwood, I’ve recently spoken to someone who claims that you’re not really who you say you are.” He watched as the man’s skin turned a sickly shade. “I was wondering why there were no photographs of you prior to the year you last returned from Novus Atlantis.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man said, but his voice came out in a frightened whisper, giving him away completely. He cleared his throat. “You must be mistaken.”

“I don’t think so,” Laith said, leaning forward. “In fact, I’m going to go out on a limb and tell you what I think might have happened between you and Cassia. I think the two of your plotted against Aster Lockwood in Novus Atlantis. I think you worked together to murder him, and then you took his identity and came to Heliopolis to start a fresh new life, and you brought Cassia in soon after. I think your friend Grot Antrum got you in by erasing all of Aster Lockwood’s identifying information – including his photographs – and replacing them with yours.”

“You’re mistaken,” the man said, and cleared his throat again.

“I don’t think you and Cassia loved each other, though,” Laith said, stroking his chin. “No, I think you two were just partners in crime. One of the easiest ways for someone like Cassia Grove to get citizenship is to get married with a Heliopolitan citizen. Which you were – or, at least, Aster Lockwood was. The two of you had an agreement, and you both stuck to your ends of the bargain, because if one of you didn’t, all of you would go down. But now Aster Lockwood has popped up again, and he’s still alive, and he has quite the story to tell.”

At this, the man positively blanched. “He’s…”

“Alive, yes,” Laith finished when the man trailed off with his mouth agape. “Which leaves me with the small mystery of finding out who you are. I suggest you start talking, because the more you hold your tongue, the more suspicious you become.”

“It – it wasn’t me!” the man cried, propping himself up on his elbows. “It was all Cassia’s idea – the whole Aster Lockwood thing – and she’s the one who worked with Antrum, not me! But I didn’t kill her. I wouldn’t kill her! We understood each other. Besides, why would I invite that kind of scrutiny into my life? My history – knowing – knowing that I’m not – Lockwood…”

“But you know who killed her,” Laith guessed, watching the man closely to gauge his reactions. “You know more than you’ve told me. You know who Invidia is, don’t you?”

There was a long moment of silence. The man was considering Laith’s words, and probably considering his own options. To tell him everything would mean owning up to a variety of crimes, and Laith knew that he was trying to find out the best way to move forward.

“Yes, I know about Invidia,” he said quietly, his voice breaking. “But you should just forget about her. There are some people… some people you shouldn’t try to take down. Not here. Not like this.” He sighed, shaking his head with resignation. “I’ll tell you what you need to know. But I swear, I did not kill Cassia Grove.”

“Tell me your real name,” Laith said. “That’s a good place to start.”

“Pheonix,” the man replied hesitantly. “My name is Pheonix Zamarad.”