I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 404 - 404 403. She died_1

Chapter 404: 403. She died_1 Chapter 404: 403. She died_1 Cui Siter’s plan was simple: identify the deceased call girl today, and then investigate the gang kid from the Catania Family; he should be able to understand all the people involved in the case. Next would be the profiling stage, determining the characteristics of the murderer.

With Stone’s support, Cui Siter shouldn’t have to worry about Lady Martina taking any aggressive measures against his investigation for the time being.

Some people think that detective work is all about puffing on a pipe and looking everywhere with a magnifying glass, then using clever reasoning and logic to unravel a criminal’s crime, solving tremendous cases while sitting in a rocking chair.

But in reality, detectives rely on analysis, yet they still need facts to make their arguments.

Even in Abandoned Capital, most cases are solved by checking relationships, motives, and alibis.

Even this case involving extraordinary powers, Cui Siter believed was no exception.

The murderer definitely had visited Doctor Howes’s clinic, so it didn’t matter whether they killed with a knife or telekinesis; as long as they figured out who hated Doctor Howes to the bone, who would gain from his death, and who was at the clinic at that time, they could deduce most of it.

The Red Dance Hall echoed with slightly offbeat old songs, evoking an uncanny sensation when sung in that special vocal style, which to Lu Ban sounded a bit like the metropolitan style of the 1920s and 30s.

The place was more spacious during the day, with most of the call girls still asleep, while a few dressed plainly were washing clothes or chatting by the door. Without their heavy makeup, these women looked no different from ordinary people.

Some of their faces bore residual wounds, which they were busily trying to clean and medicate, hoping to reduce the swelling as soon as possible.

Cui Siter arrived at a storefront marked “Theater,” took out the photo of the call girl’s face, and inquired.

“Have you seen this woman?”

The woman sitting by the door washing clothes glanced at the photo and indifferently shook her head.

He asked several places, but got no answer.

Shia looked at these women, feeling a complicated mix of emotions.

In Night Country, there were no call girls, as Shia understood it; in Night Country, as long as one was willing to work, they would surely reap something. Women did not need to sell their bodies for money.

“This is Flora, at least that’s the name she told us. She worked over the street at ‘Good Times,’ and hasn’t been back for several days.”

Finally, a short-haired woman gave Cui Siter the answer.

Cui Siter handed over some money, and the three of them headed to this place called “Good Times,” which generally didn’t offer overnight stays, and nobody would look for a hotel on Black Street. Call girls at the Red Dance Hall had two ways of working: either charge by the hour at the shop or get paid to make house calls.

“Flora? Where did that deadbeat go? I thought she really eloped with a client!”

As soon as that name was mentioned, the woman behind the counter got angry, cursing and fussing as she packed up her things.

There was an indescribable smell in the shop, mixed with perfume, stimulating human hormones.

Shia pinched her nose, not keen on the smell.

Lu Ban, however, sniffed trying to pick out a familiar scent.

Cui Siter watched the distinctly different reactions of his two teammates, and decided to ignore them.

“She’s dead,” he informed the other party.

At that moment, the woman seemed startled, somewhat astonished, and then her expression showed a trace of sadness, which swiftly turned into irritation.

“After all the effort I put into raising her, she just dies like that, damn bad luck!” the woman cursed.

“Did she know Doctor Howes?”

Cui Siter didn’t delve into their relationship, acting like an emotionless investigation machine.

“Yes, we all knew Doctor Howes. He frequently treated our girls for superficial skin injuries and provided some medications. You know, in our line of work, injuries are inevitable, but that’s about it. When Flora left a few days ago, I thought she was going to see a client, but it turned out she was going to the doctor,” the woman said, accepting the banknote from Cui Siter and holding it up to the sunlight to check for authenticity before speaking up.

“By the way, how did Flora die?”

“I can’t divulge that; it’s still under investigation,” Cui Siter replied, choosing not to share the case details, as sometimes they simply waited for a slip-up from the murderer.

“Did she have any friends, or someone close to her? Did she go to the doctor alone?”

“She got along well with the other girls, but I wouldn’t say she had anyone close to her. There was a time when she had some disputes with the other girls and it ended unpleasantly, which is normal. After all, everyone here is in the same line of work, it’s nothing personal,” the woman said, stuffing the money into her clothes.

“Can we take a look at where she lived?”

Cui Siter asked again.

“Follow me,” the woman responded.

Leading the three of them upstairs, she opened the door to a room at the end of the corridor.

The room, furnished with bunk beds to total eight, was so cramped that even standing room was sparse. Several women were still sleeping, and none seemed to care about the woman opening the door.

The room was damp, dim, and stuffy, making the conditions quite harsh. By comparison, the neighboring room for the guests seemed clean and tidy.

The woman pointed to a bed.

“This is Flora’s bed,” she said.

“What happened to her?”

A call girl, half-awake, asked.

“Dead,” the woman replied.

“Does that mean I can take her clothes?”

The call girl’s first reaction was to consider dividing the inheritance.

“Dream on,” the woman scoffed, snatching up the clothes and blanket on the bed, revealing the items on the mattress.

There wasn’t much there; the call girls had hidden their money away, and only some clothing remained on the beds. Cui Siter found a pendant-like object, a flower carved out of wood, and valueless.

“Can I take this?” Cui Siter asked.

Upon hearing this, the woman examined the pendant closely, even scraping its surface with her fingernail. After confirming it was just a piece of wood, she handed it to Cui Siter.

Leaving “Sweet Times,” Cui Siter looked at the necklace and couldn’t make out what kind of flower it was.

“That shop didn’t have that kind of perfume smell,” Lu Ban stated.

“You can tell?” Cui Siter asked reflexively.

“Of course, I have a keen sense of smell,” Lu Ban added.

“Their bodies and the shop didn’t have the scent of that paint or those chemicals either.”

“So, the one who killed Doctor Howes and Flora is a woman, who wears a distinctive perfume and also works in a paint factory?” Shia summarized both pieces of information.

“It could also be a man who works at the paint factory and likes to wear perfume. The smell from the factory is so strong it’s not very pleasant to meet people,” Lu Ban proposed a new angle.

“… Being able to afford perfume is already a sign of wealth, and look, the women from the Red Dance Hall don’t have any. I think it might be the owner of the paint factory,” Cui Siter said, not sure why he was suddenly at odds with the paint factory.

“Let’s leave it for now; we’ll go take a look at the body from the Gang related to the Catania Family,” he suggested.