North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws-Chapter 108 - 98 I often can’t fit in because I’m not perverted enough_2
Chapter 108: 98 I often can’t fit in because I’m not perverted enough_2
Harry naturally stepped forward and tore open the fabric, revealing the corpse beneath. In his mind, he had subconsciously considered himself a junior member of the team.
As the fabric was torn away, the complete form of the corpse was exposed.
The body was lying prone, its left cheek against the ground and its right cheek facing up, reminiscent of someone sprawled on a bed. The top of the head, near the right ear, was slightly indented and covered with a dense mass of writhing maggots.
"FK, I admit, the guy has definitely been dead for a few days," Harry said, looking at the maggots with disgust. He felt like he was going to lose his appetite tonight.
The maggots seemed to be feasting merrily.
The body had become their best source of nourishment.
"To be exact, the victim has been dead for seventy-two hours," Dean pointed at the squirming maggots and commented. "Often, we can make an initial estimate of the time of death based on the development cycle of the maggots."
"Sheesh, Dean, I feel like a lot of the time, you know way more than the folks in the forensics department," Harry praised, quickly jotting this down in his small notebook. Old Hunter never taught him these valuable lessons when he was his apprentice.
Dean just smiled and didn’t say a word. The members of the forensics department hadn’t necessarily seen as many bodies as he had.
After a brief observation of the body’s exterior, Dean extended his hand and began the physical examination.
The deceased was a male Caucasian, dressed in a trendy hip-hop hoodie. He appeared to be only about twenty years old. His limbs were intact, and the body felt soft, which indicated that more than thirty hours had passed since the time of death.
Dean found trauma only on the top of the victim’s head. Someone had delivered a fatal blow to his head.
Suddenly, Dean noticed that during the maggots’ movements, some from underneath were being pushed upwards. These maggots were red on one side and yellowish-white on the other, looking very strange.
Strange! After death, the lower the surrounding temperature, the quicker blood coagulates and thickens. It shouldn’t still be able to color maggots bright red after seventy-two hours!
Could it be...!!!
Because he was wearing gloves, Dean quickly flipped open the victim’s eyelids to check the corneas. The victim’s corneas weren’t cloudy; they looked clear and bright. With the influx of light, the pupils even showed a very subtle contraction!
"FK, Harry! Call for emergency services, quick!"
"What?"
"This guy’s still alive!!!"
Harry glanced at the maggots still wriggling energetically on the ground and silently took out his phone. Although he thought Dean must have been overexcited last night to say something so outrageous, but it *was* Dean, after all. freeweɓnøvel~com
After the call, Harry reported the result, "Dean, the nearest ambulance will take ten minutes to get here."
"Hmm," Dean said without looking up. He carefully laid the resilient young man back on the ground and began searching his body. He had to find clues before the ambulance arrived, as the rescue process could destroy them.
The young man’s hip-hop hoodie had large, connected pockets in the abdominal area, like a kangaroo’s pouch, stuffed with many items.
Dean took these items out one by one.
"What’s this... pepper spray? A whistle? A switchblade? ... FK! Is this lubricant and a condom?!" Harry, who was squatting nearby and watching, paled. "Dean, be careful, this guy might be a 0."
"What’s a 0?" Dean asked. While speaking, he pulled a long wallet from the young man’s pants pocket. Opening it, he found some loose bills and a Social Security card.
A great find. Like a driver’s license, the Social Security card has a unique Social Security number. It’s an essential document, equivalent to a United States citizen’s ID card. They could now confirm the injured person’s identity!
Dean stood up, intending to have Harry use the information on the Social Security card to investigate the injured person’s details. He turned to see Harry, his face troubled, making a vulgar gesture: his left index finger and thumb formed a circle—an OK sign—while his right index finger poked into the circle, moving in and out lewdly.
Seeing Dean staring at him with a dumbfounded expression, as if looking at a pervert, Harry looked somewhat aggrieved. He held up his left hand, still in the OK sign, presenting the circle to Dean. "This is what ’0’ means... The victim might have AIDS. We need to be careful, and we’ll also need to remind the medical staff later..."
Just then, CLATTER. Something fell to the ground with a noise.
Harry, still holding the gesture, turned his head. He saw Holz from the forensics department, whose toolbox had dropped to the ground. Holz was covering his mouth with both hands, looking at Harry in disbelief...
Behind Holz stood a pair of blonde twin sisters. They looked quite young and were watching Harry and Dean with excitement. The curiosity and interest in their eyes made Harry’s scalp tingle.
"FK!" Harry’s face darkened further. "Holz, buddy, believe me! I was just explaining to Dean what a ’0’ is!"
"Perhaps. But to dare and sexually harass Dean? I admire your guts for that, Harry. When Dean finally beats you to death, I’ll personally write up your autopsy report!"
Dean: "..."
Holz picked up his toolbox and came over with the two young women. "This is Dora and Wemi," he introduced. "They’re twin sisters and my new assistants. I’ll be training them for a while."
Harry looked at the two sisters brimming with youthful energy and said with a mix of envy, jealousy, and bitterness, "Damn it, they’re a waste of talent with you!"
Twin sisters! God, I want them!
Harry thought about going over to say hello, but the sisters had already approached Dean, enthusiastically introducing themselves.
Holz sighed. I knew it would end up like this.
Harry nodded in total agreement!
Dean quite liked this feeling. But he couldn’t understand why these two foolish women were beating around the bush asking him if *he* was a ’sister’.
A gentleman keeps his true capabilities concealed, not casually revealing them.
The setting was inappropriate.
Dean pushed away the two enthusiastic and odd women, walked over to Holz, briefly discussed the victim’s condition, and had him record their findings. If Dean and Harry signed the record, it could also serve as corroborating evidence.
However, Holz was quite interested in the victim. While waiting for the ambulance, he pointed to the wound on the victim’s head and explained to the twins, "The victim has a strong life force, but what really saved him are these wriggling cuties. They eat decayed flesh and can stop bleeding. Some surgeons really like to use maggots for debridement."
"Cute?" Harry felt Holz was a bit strange.
He glanced around, hoping to find someone who shared his sentiment. Instead, he saw Dean and the two sisters listening with rapt attention. So, he quietly walked to one side, lit a cigarette, and began to smoke, feeling rather melancholic. He often felt that because he wasn’t twisted enough, he couldn’t fit into these people’s conversations.
Seven or eight minutes later, the ambulance finally arrived.
Holz, with the two sisters, drove off, following the ambulance to the hospital. They intended to bring all the victim’s clothes back to the forensics department in case there were any overlooked clues on them.
Dean then took Harry back to the detective bureau.
The alley was secluded. That place likely wasn’t the primary crime scene.
The victim had suffered a severe blow to the back of his head, highly suggesting an ambush. Since his money was not taken, this negated the likelihood of a random robbery.
Apart from a mentally unstable lunatic, no one would randomly harm or kill someone. There’s usually a trigger, a reason for the aggression.
The same goes for psychopaths.
And mentally unstable lunatics rarely bother to deliberately move a body after a murder.
So this was a premeditated attempted murder!
Considering the pepper spray, whistle, and switchblade found on the victim—self-defense tools typically carried by women... Dean suspected the victim had previously suffered some unbearable trauma, which would explain his deep-seated insecurity.
He had a hunch that by using the Social Security card to investigate the victim’s social connections, they could easily find the reason for the attack, and perhaps even identify the assailant!
