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Okay. I am denial.
I browsed through Vladis' recent victims, all of them had his carving, but in a different area. The victims from yesterday was on the neck, his victims was on the cheek. He had an obsession with scarring them on their cheeks. Was it a kink, a hobby?
Everyone has their obsession, I just can't figure out why Vladis' would do it.
I took one last look before shutting the folder. It can't be him. Vladis loves his work, and if he finds out that someone is copying him, surely, he'd be furious by now.
"Ma, come here." I announced. Ken's eyes found the voice, which was mine. He stood up, long strides to my table. When he stood in front of me, he took a glance at the folders.
"What's that for?" he asked.
I tapped my fingers on the folders. "I wanted to see if it was actually him. And from my judgement, it's not."
"What did you find out, then?"
I showed him both folders, opening up Vladis' victims and yesterday's. I pointed the one from Vladis, and the young woman from yesterday.
"See?" I told him.
He nodded, "Maybe he changed tactics? Maybe he got bored and chose the neck." he reasoned.
I shrugged, "Vladis is a man who loves to be organized, do you see what he wears everyday? The same thing. Same shirt, pants, shoes, even the same haircut. There is no way he's going to change his tactics. And with two innocent women? Look here, they've been doing this, the same cycle: women, old or young. Vladis, on the other hand, killed who? People with criminal records,"
I took out another folder, this time, it involved all of Vladis' victims. From criminals who escaped prisons, to criminals who sold drugs.
"There's a pattern here, Ken. Vladis goes for the bad. This... this rat goes for something else. It's been happening for so long now, and we still can't find any fucking lead." I groaned, wanting to stab someone with my pen. Being a detective becomes stressful when you can't find anything to catch the murderer.
"I mean, they did leave a knife." Ken muttered.
I glanced at him, "What do you mean?" No one told me about a knife, from what I know, there was nothing left in the crime scene. I mean, I was late, that was my fault. But still, no one informed me about the knife.
"There was a knife, but no fingerprints. It's clean as daylight. They left it to taunt us."
"Does Angela have it?"
Ken nodded. That was my queue to leave. I stood up from my chair. The killer wanted to be known, that's why they left a knife. Wanted to be known for what? Why? Maybe they were already giving out hints, or they were talking to someone else that knew what the knife meant.
