The list of sinners

...Donovan...

This is snow. White, cold, beautiful. These are those calm winter days with a lot of ice. In front of me, I see nothing but yesterday's roads covered in white powder and the occasional people going about their business, where one of them is me. However, despite everything, I am happy to simply walk in it, leaving my traces indirectly, the traces of the wheels of my car, as my father used to say, those who stop are the ones who get stuck.

I watch those crystals with their pendants, how they fall in a chaotic flutter, on the window of my car forming a thin layer of blanket that couldn't be more uniform, more regular even though maybe not long-lasting under the moving force of the windshield wiper. I park the car in a now empty spot even though today it was difficult to find an empty space. Before I go out, I tuck my coat well behind my body and tighten the scarf around my neck. For a few snowflakes, their destination is the street directly in my hand, already raised in anticipation, without gloves, leaving the warmth of my body to be a small spring and the end of theirs.

With the softness of my fingertips, I spread the water left behind by the snowflakes. At first, I feel that characteristic freshness, then as if it's warm. How many memories the snow brought. Without wasting more time, I entered the building of the department. The whole department was on its feet. Such movements hadn't been seen in a long time. That whole crowd of people hypnotized in a way, leaving your brain to be stuck in that image. I started looking for Cameron, who was most likely still here, after his breakup with his girlfriend. After all, the department was now his new home.

He was lying with his head on one of the computer tables where we wrote reports or did some quick research. The computer was still on. The cursor blinking like a pulse seemed to be waiting for a single letter to search. His right arm was under his head and his left one was free and almost escaped the table. I slammed the door behind me, replacing the alarm clock.

"Damn Donovan ?!"

"I'm lucky it was just me. Imagine if someone else woke you up."

"Oh, don't mention it," Cameron said, rubbing his face.

"Why are you still here ?"

"Have the salaries been paid yet?"

"Not yet for this month, why?"

"That's why I'm still here. After all, I'm not complaining. It's very comfortable, you know?"

"I bet."

"Leave me alone, but what about these movements? Who will honor us with their participation?"

"With recent events involving Connecticut, the media are buzzing to find out more about the recent murders."

"And?"

"The department has received a notice for a press release."

"So that's why we got an ultimatum to show up at 9:00 am? And I thought this was a disciplinary measure. Do you think they'll ask us questions too?"

"I don't know, but I think Campbell will just clarify some details for the public."

"And even if that happens, you're privileged in my eyes to answer the reporters' questions. I don't want any trouble from lack of sleep."

"After all this is over, I want to talk to you, okay?"

"Is there something wrong? Did I make a mistake or something?"

"No, it has nothing to do with that."

The conversation between me and Cameron was interrupted by Officer Burke's entry into the room.

"Mr. Mayfair, Mr. Sinclair, sorry to bother you but the entire department is requested to gather in the conference room immediately."

"We'll come now," I said. Thank you!"

She nodded slightly and closed the door behind her.

"Let's go Cameron," I said patting his shoulder.

"I'm coming."

We left the room where we had been confined for a few good minutes and joined in the conference room, sitting in the second row as the media stood in the first. The boss looked anxious. The papers he held in his hand were crumpled and he lightly tapped them on the desk. We were all anxious, not just him. It was official now. This was the worst case we had ever encountered.

"Thank you for your participation, today I want to make an announcement about a recent unfortunate development, a series of murders that have been investigated here in the Connecticut Police Department, which as our detectives have concluded, are linked to each other."

"So Mr. Campbell, are we finally dealing with a serial killer?" asked one of the reporters.

"That is quite apparent."

"What can you tell us about the victims?"

"The victims of this case, so far, are mainly girls aged eighteen to twenty."

"When you say so far, does that imply that we will have more victims in the future?" asked another, pointing the pen at the boss.

"The victims were killed by a cold weapon, specifically a knife as we have communicated, and each of them had a difference of minus one in the number of strikes.

"You said the victims were female, but what can you say about Tian Johanas?"

"The male victim was not the killer's target. The M.O. of this victim was not the same as the others.

"Do the victims have any connection to each other?"

"According to the investigations, the family members of the victims who were questioned stated that they did not know the previous victims.

"What do detectives think is the motive?"

"The killer has made it clear why he kills the victims. After each murder, he leaves an apple as a symbolic gesture, to show that the victims were all sinners.

The apple element was something new to the media as we discovered it recently. All their faces had an expression of surprise, and some of them had a note.

"So, according to you, someone kills people because they consider them sinners?"

"The killer knows who the sinners are, and this is very clear, as was also proven with the male victims.

"Now do we have to be afraid to turn to religious institutions?" asked another. Do you think they are hiding behind these murders?

"Is this another scandal of religious leaders?" one of the journalists threw in.

The journalists began to increase the volume of questions, making it suffocating and dizzying. Their voices were too inquisitive, like a noise that you couldn't figure out where it was coming from. It seemed that at that moment, peace was slipping from the boss's hands.

"Part of being successful is all about asking questions and listening to the answers very well," I called out, standing up. No one is sowing fear and panic in the middle of this. No one is blaming anyone yet. We are all suspects, and the killer could even be among us at this moment. What we are calling for is for this age group to be careful and vigilant with who they talk to and who they trust. This advice does not exclude you. Furthermore, if you believe you have information related to the investigations, you can contact the police. The statement ends here. Thank you!"

After my intervention, the journalists hurriedly left. Now with all this information somewhat known, and especially with the apple element, imagination was the only limit in terms of the headlines that the news and newspapers would have. Time would be the only thing to answer our questions, and especially after this day, the biggest question that most likely all of us would bring up in our minds.

In the garden of ignorance, who was the person who chose the forbidden apple?