National Forensic Service (6)

I enter the autopsy room, the sharp scent of disinfectant assaulting my senses. The fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over the sterile environment. Sung's body lies on the cold metal table, a white sheet draped over him.

The NFS officer nods at me and pulls back the sheet to reveal Sung's hands. I lean in, my eyes focusing intently on his fingers. Just as reported, several nails on his right hand are partially polished. The colors are vibrant - blues and purples - but applied unevenly. Some nails look smudged, as if the polish was disturbed before it could properly dry.

"Has the NFS analyzed the nail polish itself?" I ask the officer, my voice echoing slightly in the quiet room.

He shakes his head. "Not yet. We didn't think it was significant enough to prioritize."

I straighten up, my mind racing with possibilities. "I'd like to make an official request for that analysis. Every detail could be important."