It was not yet fully light when Alya Laurent arrived at the police station. She had barely slept all night. Adrian Blackwood's name and the trail of blood from the hotel kept filling her thoughts.
She had just set down her bag when Ryan arrived carrying a thick file.
“Alya, there's a new case.”
Alya looked at him. “How serious?”
Ryan handed her the crime scene photos.
Alya's expression changed instantly.
A woman had been found dead in a luxury apartment. Her body lay in the living room, while the wall behind her was covered in writing made with blood.
YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME.
“It happened two hours ago,” Ryan said. “And there's something even stranger.”
“What?”
“The victim received a message from the same number that sent you a message last night.”
Alya fell silent.
That meant this case was connected to the hotel murder.
They immediately headed to the scene. The apartment was already filled with police officers. Alya put on gloves before entering the room.
The smell of blood stabbed into her nose.
She carefully examined the victim's body. There were no obvious signs of a struggle. But there was a small object in the victim's palm.
Alya picked it up carefully.
A black suit button.
“Check it for fingerprints,” Alya ordered.
Ryan nodded.
Alya then approached the wall. The writing in blood looked like a threat, but she noticed something different.
There was a small symbol beneath the sentence.
A black circle.
The same symbol they had found at the hotel.
“He deliberately left a mark,” Alya murmured.
“The killer's signature?” Ryan asked.
“Maybe.”
Suddenly, an officer came hurrying over.
“Detective! We found CCTV footage.”
Alya immediately followed the officer.
The footage showed a man in a black coat entering the building about thirty minutes before the murder. His face was hidden beneath a hat.
Alya zoomed in on the image.
Her heart began to beat faster.
Although the man's face was not clearly visible, his gait and build were hauntingly familiar.
“Adrian...” she whispered.
Ryan looked at her.
“Are you sure?”
Alya shook her head.
“Not yet.”
She stared at the screen, her eyes sharp.
“If it's really him, then he deliberately showed himself to me.”
And for the first time, Alya realized that this case was not merely a murder.
The killer was hunting her.
Alya was still standing in front of the CCTV monitor. The man in the black coat had disappeared from the footage, but his image continued to fill her thoughts. She zoomed in several more times, hoping to find another clue.
“Ryan, replay it from five minutes earlier.”
The footage played.
The man entered through the main door, walked calmly, then stopped in front of the camera. As if he knew he was being watched. A moment later, he raised his head and turned his face directly toward the camera.
Alya fell silent.
“He deliberately looked at the camera,” Ryan said.
“Not only that.” Alya pointed at the screen. “Look at his hand.”
The man was wearing black gloves. On his index finger was a ring bearing the same circle emblem as the symbol at the crime scene.
“So it's true,” Ryan said. “He's the same man.”
Alya did not answer right away. If the man really was Adrian, why was he leaving clues so openly?
“Find everything on Adrian Blackwood,” she ordered.
Ryan nodded and immediately went to the computer.
A few minutes later, his expression turned serious.
“Alya, this is strange.”
“What?”
“There are no official records on him.”
Alya frowned. “That's impossible.”
“His name isn't listed in the police database, hospital records, or even travel records.”
Alya stared at the screen.
Someone with no administrative trail was either extremely careful—or Adrian Blackwood was not his real name.
Suddenly, Alya's phone rang.
An unknown number.
She answered it.
“Beautiful detective.”
A man's voice came from the other end. Low, calm, and cold.
Alya recognized it immediately.
“Adrian.”
A soft laugh sounded.
“You found my name quickly.”
“Where are you?”
“Shouldn't you be looking for me?”
“I'll catch you.”
“Then come alone.”
The call ended.
Alya stared at her phone screen.
Ryan approached her. “What did he say?”
“He's waiting for me.”
“Don't go alone.”
Alya picked up her coat.
“That's exactly what he wants.”
Ryan tried to stop her, but Alya was already walking toward the door.
Before she left, her phone vibrated again.
A message came in.
Midnight. The old building on Jalan Blackstone. Don't bring the police.
Alya read the message once more.
A trap.
She knew it was.
But if Adrian really was there, this might be her first chance to see the killer's face in person.
Alya slipped her phone into her pocket and smiled faintly.
“All right, Adrian. Let's see who gives in first.”
Elsewhere, a man stood in a dark room, gazing at a photograph of Alya.
“Come,” he whispered.
His smile widened.
“Tonight, I'll show you who I really am.”