The perfect Murder

Next day, Jackson Detectives Agency.

Marco sat at his desk inside Jackson Detectives' office, reading through emails from possible clients. Their small private detective agency offers investigative services for background checks, fraud, civil investigations, missing persons, insurance, surveillance, and infidelity.

Do you think your wife is cheating on you with your coworker? They'll find out. Is your cat missing? Your baby-daddy runaway? They'll find him.

'No case is too insignificant, as long as they're willing to pay' had always been Levi's business motto after all. 

Marco noticed the slicked blond take his coat from the rack by the front door, and he smiled.

"Another date night?" the bearded man asked the psychologist.

Mike, one of their employees, sat at his desk, holding the landline against his left ear cocked an amused brow. The two tall gentlemen always had no problem throwing jabs at each other, whatever the occasion.

"What are you getting at, Marco?" The slicked blond got direct to the point, not willing to waste a moment of his time as he pulled his car keys out of his coat pocket.

"Dr Gray, she's gorgeous, isn't she?" Marco said, brows wiggling suggestively at him.

Levi shot Marco a confused and scandalized look, "You're a married man, does domestic life boring you now? And only when Lisa has taken a trip with her friends?" He quipped bemused.

"That's not what I meant!" Marco replied, frazzled, and annoyed about how slow the brilliant man could be at times.

"Then what is? Hurry up, because I have a fresh corpse in the morgue waiting for me." Levi said.

The bearded man waved him away, dismissively, "Ah... Never mind." he brushed off.

Levi stepped out of the agency's front door and made his way to his car parked on the street. A blue Shelby cobra with two white stripes on the hood.

He drove in silence, one hand on the wheel pondering on Marco's words. He feigned ignorance, though he knew exactly what his friend meant.

Sam Gray did intrigue him.

From the late long hours they spent together in the Lab in silence, he has failed to read her like he could most people. She was indeed a puzzle, a puzzle he'd want nothing more but solve.

He walked in the morgue, Janet waiting for him to arrive. 

Levi pulled the body bag's zipper open and scanned the body of a man in his 50's, caucasian, with greyish blond hair. Sunspots and freckles spread on his pale face.

The slicked blond turned to Janet, "How fresh?" he asked. The chubby woman smiled up at him, "Just a few hours." she answered.

"Any notable pre-existing health conditions?" he inquired.

Looking at the man's chart, she answered, "He had hypertension and diabetes,"

Levi grabbed some supplies from the corner of the room, then approached the body, extracting a fair amount of blood from the carcass. Afterwards, he proceeded to the Laboratory, wanting to test a theory.

In all honesty, he could test it in his kitchen lab; he had the required equipment for his test there too.

However, he chose Guy's Laboratory instead, in hopes of discovering more about the mysterious redhead.

Hitting two birds with one stone, he thought.

He walked through the Laboratory door, his eyes scanning the folders on her counter as he passed by. Files stacked on top of each other, COLD CASE it read in big, bold red letters.

His entrance caught the redhead's attention from the screen, where fingerprints flashed one after the other, searching for a match in the national database.

Green eyes and hazel eyes stared at each other for the first time. She gave him a curt nod, and he nodded back in acknowledgement but never uttering a single word. As if the two were afraid to break the familiar silence.

Levi took his usual seat at the back, eyes at the back of her head. Her crimson hair was in a ponytail, and she wore no makeup like usual, making her look younger than she was.

And like the first night, she was wearing pyjamas. This time, an oversized white sweatshirt, with CALTECH in bold orange letters, black pyjama pants, with the same bunny slippers.

Based on her attire, he assumed she was in a hurry to leave the house. Probably realizing something amiss or fundamental in her work. Not even bothering to change her clothes or shoes when she stepped out.

Sam fished her mobile phone from her pocket, and she started typing.

3 AM Sent: Red Folder on the desk. -Sam

A minute later, it buzzed.

Received: Why? -Elle

No reply.

…..

Elle Hart walked through the halls of Guy's 7 in the morning, yawning. A red folder in hand.

On my way to the flat. -Elle, she sent a text to her boss and received a reply 20 seconds later.

Received: Lab. Coffee. -Sam

Elle frowned in confusion, stalking towards the Laboratory in a hurry, wondering how her employer was able to get in the Lab without her keycard. Elle peeked through the small window by the door of Sam's Lab. She frowned, it was empty.

At the Lab, where are you? - Elle

Big Lab, downstairs. -Sam

The brunette took the stairs, taking a sharp turn towards the main Laboratory. She walked in, scanning the room as she entered, her eyes resting on the familiar, sharply dressed Levi Jackson. 

Her brows cocked in intrigue; then her eyes bounced to her boss on her left.

"You're here early." Elle commented casually, knowing today was supposedly her boss' day back to work after a 3-day hiatus. She approached her, only to stop and do a double-take.

Sweatshirt, shorts, bunny slipper! Elle scowled instantly.

Elle gripped the folder in hand, clenched her jaw. "Did you spend the night here?!" she fumed, the redhead had a history of fainting from overfatigue. She had been admitted many times due to this.

The brunette's loud voice caught Levi's attention at the back, and he paused to watch the two women a couple of feet away.

"Clearly. Where's my coffee?" the redhead dismissed. "Bloody hell, Samantha Gray --" Elle started only to pause halfway when the redhead shut her eyes, "God." she groaned at the sound of her full name. 

She opened her hand to her, waiting for the red folder. Elle huffed, then placed the folder on her hand.

"Did you even, sleep?!" she asked.

Sam turned the page on the folder, skimming through it. "Humans can survive weeks without sleep. I'll live," she informed her.

Elle's eyes widened, "So, you didn't sleep. How many hours have you been up?" she interrogated.

Not bothering to spare her Assistant a glance, "Something. Didn't I ask you to bring me a coffee?" she answered.

Elle rubbed her temples in frustration; her employer was the best boss she had ever had; she has both paid vacation and sick leaves; she can also leave early if need be. And she gets bonuses and overtime pay on top of her already handsome salary. The only thing that was difficult in working with Dr Sam Gray was that she was a bonafide workaholic.

The brunette looked at the redhead concerned; she had bags under her eyes. Her insomnia must be acting up again, she silently assumed. Something she had always struggled with. "You haven't had a break for weeks, Sam. I thought you were going to take the chance to rest," she said.

Sam looked up from the file to her Assistant and said, "Had to check some things, one case led to another, here we are. Coffee?"

Elle groaned at her response, "God. You reckless--" she started but was interrupted again when the redhead covered her ears and shut her eyes like a child would at a nagging mother.

"I couldn't sleep. OCD. Stop nagging. You're giving me a bloody headache. Coffee."

Sam opened her eyes just in time to see her Assistant walk out of the Lab fuming, she frowned, and a sigh passed her lips in disappointment.

"Coffee" she muttered.

Sighing, she swerved on her seat and looked at Levi, "Sorry" she mouthed.

Levi shrugged in response, quite amused if he was honest.

'A close relationship with Assistant.'

'Low tolerance from lack of sleep.' He noted.

It was 15 minutes later when Elle returned to the Lab.

"Did you get my text?" Sam asked the brunette. "Yes." She replied, walking closer. She then placed the cup of coffee and a laptop on the redhead's counter and approached Levi, placing a cup of coffee on the counter before him.

The Irishman cocked a brow at the woman's action, in reply Elle gestured to the redhead who was opening her laptop in front of them, "Black, no sugar, Correct?" she confirmed.

"Yes, thank you," the blond replied, smiling at the brunette whilst gripping the cup's handle. He pressed the cup's tip to his mouth, taking a sip while watching the redhead type on her laptop.

He eyed the website she was on, 'Crime Investigation Department Database' it said. And knowing full well what she was doing, he grinned impressed.

Elle gawked at the screen of Sam's laptop, reading the page she was on, and she bent closer to Sam, air stuck in her throat.

"Are you hacking the Police?!" she hissed at the redhead.

Sam continued to type codes, successfully entering the server. "I have no idea what you are talking about." she denied it like it was nothing.

"That is a criminal offence," Elle whispered. Sam smiled as typed a case file number. "Only if you get caught," she replied. And after seeing what she was looking for on the Crime Investigation Department Database, she left.

The redhead took a short shower, ate, and took an hour and a half jog with her dog Mo, an intimidating brown Bullmastiff. Her trusted companion, best friend.

Later that day, she arranged a meeting with Detective Constable Scott of the Crime Investigation Department. 

She sat waiting for him in an old cafe in Central London; a smug smile was on Scott's face as per usual; she noted seeing him walk in the cafe. Sam didn't particularly like nor disliked him, but she knew somehow, maybe he could help with her predicament. After all, they have worked before.

She and the blond Constable exchanged pleasantries, and when the formality was over Scott went direct to the point.

"Let me guess, not a social meeting, right?" Scott assumed, there was humour in his voice causing Sam to smile. "Unfortunately. Sorry," she said.

"It's alright; I know what you are like. And Ms Hart calling was a dead giveaway. Do you even call people yourself?" The Constable asked, genuinely curious. She seemed like not the type to ask for anyone in the first place.

"Not when I can help it," Sam replied honestly.

Detective Scott took a sip of his coffee on the table. "So, what's this about?" he asked, readjusting his tie, feeling a little insecure under the eyes of Sam Gray. He knew exactly who she was. Who she truly was. Detective and all, he is guilty of doing a background check on her, and it wasn't easy. He needed to pull a lot of strings to figure out who she actually was.

The things he did find were both intriguing and intimidating; the woman was a Genius--in all the definition of the word. B.A.'s, M.A.'s, PhD's, and an M.D. under her belt. She was considered the best in the field of Forensic Science, good enough that she conducts Seminars for the Police.

Sam sighed, pulling a few files from the bag beside her, she laid it on top of the table to show him. It was a good thing they were seated in the back corner of the Café. She wouldn't want any other person to lose their appetite.

"I found something; I believe a serial killer." She said, causing the man's eyes to widen. Was she kidding? But she didn't seem to be the type to fool around someone she wasn't close too, like himself, Scott thought.

"A serial? How?" he asked, alarmed.

"Guy's, you know I'm the Director of Forensics, right?" she said, earning a nod from the man. "I've reviewed many of the cases from the past ten years, most of them are, of course, natural death. Nothing bizarre about that, people die every day, the circle of life. I know, I'm a Forensic Pathologist for a living." she started.

She took a sip of her drink on the table, "The thing is, I found people--who died from natural causes, made to look like it, that is." Sam explained. Scott moved to open his mouth to speak when Sam stopped him. "Don't talk, just let me finish," she instructed, and he shut his mouth instantly.

Sam slid three photos on the table, one from each file, each one from a different victim. Each one had the same birthmark-shaped scar on their flesh.

"Three people all died from 'natural deaths'; drowning, CVA, anaphylactic shock, all of them had the same scarring." she said, pointing at the focused printed image, "All in the same spot on the left inner arm," she added.

Scott examined each photo, and she was right, the mark was identical. His mouth hanged agape in shock, speechless.

"And based on the pattern--I reckon someone else will die, ten days from now," she added.

"How can you tell?" Scott asked, stunned at the latest revelation.

Sam showed him the file of each person, the date they died.

"Look at the dates, all of them died during the 15th, two months apart each. The last victim Edbert Wallberg was almost two months ago", she stated.

"Oh my god. But how--where? Who?" Scott rambled.

Sam leaned back on her chair, "I don't know. That's your job, Detective." she replied earnestly.