Episode 4

"Go home, Zoya! Now!"

Kalandra's roar exploded, echoing off the cold container walls of the warehouse. His face was flushed red, a mix of embarrassment and anger.

His wife, who should have been sitting pretty at home waiting for her husband to come home, was now squatting in front of a corpse with a silk dress already dirty with mud.

"You think this is a haunted house ride? This is a corpse, Zoya! A corpse of a sadistic murder victim!" Kalandra took a step forward, intending to pull his wife's shoulder to make her stand up. "Don't make me drag you in front of my own men. You're contaminating the crime scene!"

Sinta in the back snorted loudly, folding her arms across her chest haughtily. "Listen to that, Ma'am. The commander cares about you, that's why he's telling you to go home. Don't seek attention here. If you throw up after seeing blood, we'll be the ones in trouble."

Zoya didn't budge. She didn't turn her head, nor did she respond to her husband's shouts or Sinta's taunts. The hand covered in latex gloves moved calmly, touching the corpse's stiff jaw with a terrifying gentleness.

"Doctor Rudi," Zoya called. Her voice wasn't loud, but strangely, it was clear in the midst of the rain's roar. "Lend me your penlight. Now."

Doctor Rudi, who was still gawking in shock, reflexively rummaged through his vest pocket and offered the small flashlight. "Uh... h-here, Ma'am."

"Rudi! Don't give it to her!" Kalandra stopped him. "Zoya, stand up! I'll count to thr—"

Click.

Zoya turned on the flashlight, directing it straight into the corpse's wide-open eyes. She opened the eyelids wider with her thumb.

"Look at this, Kalandra," Zoya cut in flatly.

Kalandra fell silent, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of his wife's courage. He reluctantly lowered his head, following Zoya's pointing finger.

"There are red spots in the whites of her eyes," Zoya explained, her tone turning clinical, as if she were giving a public lecture, not arguing with her husband in a port warehouse. "In medical terms, this is called petechiae. A sign of ruptured capillary blood vessels due to sudden lack of oxygen."

"See!" Sinta snapped, still trying to curry favor. "So it's true she was strangled, right? Doctor Rudi knew that too!"

Zoya rolled her eyes lazily. She shifted the flashlight to the corpse's smooth white neck.

"If she was strangled, the hyoid bone in her neck would definitely be broken or at least have bruises from fingers. This neck is clean. Smooth. No blunt force trauma." Zoya turned to Rudi. "Doctor, try smelling the victim's mouth. Don't just look from afar."

Rudi hesitantly approached, then sniffed softly at the area of the corpse's slightly open mouth. His forehead creased. He sniffed again, this time deeper. His eyes widened.

"It smells... a bit bitter," Rudi mumbled, his face paling. "Like almonds?"

"Bingo," Zoya said coldly. "Cyanide."

A tense silence enveloped the tent. Kalandra gaped. Cyanide? That deadly poison?

"But... but that's impossible, Ma'am!" Rudi protested in a panic, feeling his authority being challenged. "I've checked the entire arms, thighs, neck. There are no injection marks! If it was ingested, there would definitely be vomit residue or chemical burns on the lips. Her lips are intact!"

Kalandra looked at his wife, searching for doubt on her face. But all he found was absolute certainty. "Zoya, don't just guess. If this is cyanide, where's the entry point? Rudi's right, her body is clean."

Zoya sighed deeply, as if she were facing a group of slow-learning kindergarten students. Without speaking, she put down the flashlight, then her hand moved down to the corpse's feet.

With one swift movement, Zoya removed the high-heeled shoe that was still attached to the corpse's right foot.

"You're all too focused on the upper body because the perpetrator manipulated his position like a doll," Zoya said, lifting the pale foot high. "This perpetrator is smart, but he's also arrogant. He thinks the police are too stupid to check all the way down here."

Zoya stretched the corpse's little finger and ring finger.

"Flashlight," Zoya ordered.

Kalandra, without realizing it, immediately snatched the flashlight from Rudi's hand and shone it in the direction his wife was pointing.

There, hidden between the folds of wrinkled toe skin, was a very small red dot. Almost invisible.

"Micro needle injection mark," Zoya whispered. "He injected a high dose of cyanide directly into the veins in the foot. Death occurred in less than a minute. After that, he dressed up the corpse, put dry ice around the neck to fake lividity, then tied it up."

Zoya released the corpse's foot, letting it fall with a soft thud into the crate. She stood, looking at Kalandra who was still frozen with his mouth half open. Kalandra's expression was mixed—between amazement, shame, and disbelief that the woman who had just dissected the chronology of the murder in five minutes was the wife he had called a "burden" this morning.

Sinta retreated slowly, her face flushed red with shame. Doctor Rudi was busy taking notes with trembling hands, realizing that he had just been outdone by a housewife.

Zoya took off her latex gloves with a loud *plak* sound. She threw the dirty gloves right at Kalandra's broad chest.

"The corpse has spoken, Kalandra," Zoya said flatly, tightening her expensive wet coat again. "She's not a doll. She's the victim of premeditated murder with expert-level execution. Now it's your job to catch the perpetrator, not scold me."

Without waiting for an answer, Zoya turned around. Her wet hair fluttered softly as she walked through the rain back to her luxury car, leaving Kalandra standing stiff as a statue in the middle of the storm, clutching his wife's used gloves as if they were the most valuable and most slapping to his pride object tonight.

***This work has been signed with NovelToon, and piracy such as reprinting without permission is strictly prohibited.***

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***