[✔️] 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑁𝐾 𝐹𝐴𝑆𝑇 | 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐘
"𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔."
—𝑃𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒 𝐽𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑠, 𝐸𝑛𝑒𝑚𝑦 𝑊𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛

𝐈
— 𝐸𝑢𝑑𝑜𝑚𝑢𝑠 —

𝐄𝐔𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐓 his desk, his elbows leaned forward as his eyes examined the papers in front of him. The chatter and bustle around him in the precinct didn't bother him in the least; he was far too focused on the work he had to complete.

It wasn't long until his focus was interrupted as Beaman approached and held a stack of papers towards him, which he then took.

"Ballistics came back," Beaman told him. "Bullets from all our shooters match."

"Round robin," Eudomus remarked with raised eyebrows, beginning to sift through the papers as his eyes skimmed over the words.

"Yeah, to quote a very smart man, 'These idiots all shot each other,'" Beaman quoted, receiving a humoured smile from the other man. "Uh, we also got IDs on all the deceased gentlemen. Not so gentle, as it turns out."

Eudomus paused for a moment as he looked up at him. "Criminal records?"

"All of them," he confirmed with a small sigh and nod. "Battery, assault, a few dishonourable discharges—they're all hotheads. One and all."

Eudomus nodded as he placed the stack of papers on the corner of his desk and exhaled. "Well, that settles that."

"Well, there is just one thing," Beaman said lightly as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a bag, whose label was half-stained by blood from the butter knife inside and lifted it up for Eudomus to see. "Remember the victim that got stabbed in the carotid artery?"

"Yeah," Eudomus replied as he grabbed the bag from him and inspected it, "one of the guys stabbed the other. What's the problem?"

"Fingerprints on the knife don't match our guys. But it gets weirder. It did match an unsolved cold case that came back, circa, get this . . ." Beaman bounced on his toes, looking to the side before leaning forward and excitedly continuing, "1938."

Eudomus crinkled his nose, handing the bag back to him. "Tell them to run it again. We'll pick this up later."

As soon as Beaman had taken the bag and left, Eudomus was about to return his gaze to his papers before something caught his eye. He sighed as he saw Diego, his hands handcuffed behind his back, and another officer approaching

As they came up to the desk, Eudomus waved a hand and instructed, "Uncuff him."

"Thanks, Rodriguez." Diego nodded to the officer as he uncuffed him. "So . . ." He grabbed one of the papers as he sat down in the chair next to the desk and raised his eyebrows. "Did you talk to the tow truck guy?"

"Shut up and listen carefully," Eudomus cut in irritatedly as he grabbed the paper back and put it with the rest of the stack. "The next time you interfere in one of my investigations, you so much as breathe on one of my witnesses, or touch a piece of evidence, I'll charge you with obstruction of justice. You will do jail time." He raised his eyebrows. "Is that clear?"

"Damn," Diego remarked, his expression incredulous as he lifted his eyebrows. "You need to relax, Eudomus. All this bureaucracy is get—"

"Do not call me that."