The Man in Black

The morgue was colder than usual.

Or maybe it only felt that way because Daniel Mercer was supposed to be alive.

I stood beside the examination table while Dr. Evelyn Carter carefully photographed his right hand before touching it.

"Ready?" she asked.

I nodded.

She gently unfolded Daniel's fingers.

Something small slipped onto the metal tray with a soft click.

A button.

Black.

No larger than a coin.

It wasn't from Daniel's uniform.

I picked it up with a pair of tweezers.

High-quality fabric fibers still clung to the thread.

"This came from someone's coat."

Dr. Carter looked at me.

"You think he pulled it off the killer?"

"I think..."

I studied the stitching.

"...Daniel fought back."

It wasn't much.

But it was the first physical evidence the killer had accidentally left behind.

For the first time in days...

The investigation finally had something real.

By noon, the Bureau had already sent the button to the forensic laboratory.

Adrian walked beside me as we returned to the investigation room.

"So..."

"You finally look hopeful."

"I'll be hopeful when we have a name."

He smiled.

"I was beginning to think you forgot how."

Before I could answer, Director Hale stepped out of his office.

His expression was impossible to read.

"Conference room."

Again.

The words were becoming a habit.

The atmosphere inside felt different.

Tighter.

Even the senior detectives looked uncomfortable.

No one was speaking.

Director Hale remained standing at the head of the table.

"We have a situation."

Someone muttered,

"When don't we?"

No one laughed.

Hale placed a folder on the table.

"Our request for cooperation has been denied."

"By who?" one detective asked.

He didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he looked at me.

"The Five Families."

The room grew even quieter.

Adrian frowned.

"So we're blind."

"Not entirely."

Hale's eyes shifted toward the door.

"They've agreed to send one representative."

A representative?

That surprised me.

The Five Families rarely worked with law enforcement.

Why start now?

Before I could ask...

Someone knocked once.

Not loudly.

Just once.

The door opened.

A man stepped inside.

The conversation stopped.

He wasn't surrounded by bodyguards.

He wasn't dressed to impress.

A black tailored suit.

White shirt.

Black tie.

Black leather gloves.

Simple.

Elegant.

His posture was relaxed.

His expression unreadable.

He didn't scan the room like someone searching for danger.

He already knew where everyone was.

Director Hale spoke first.

"Thank you for coming."

The man inclined his head politely.

"My employer appreciates the invitation."

Employer?

So this wasn't Damien.

I felt oddly disappointed.

He placed a slim black folder on the table.

"My employer asked me to deliver this."

Hale opened it.

Every detective leaned forward.

Inside were photographs.

Crime scene photographs.

The exact same murders we were investigating.

But these weren't police photos.

Someone else had reached the victims before we had.

My pulse quickened.

"Where did these come from?"

The man met my gaze for the first time.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that."

His voice was calm.

Measured.

Not once did it rise.

Not once did it waver.

Adrian folded his arms.

"If your employer has information about a serial killer, he should be sitting in this room himself."

A faint smile touched the stranger's lips.

"My employer dislikes unnecessary attention."

I couldn't stop watching him.

Everything about him felt... practiced.

Not rehearsed.

Disciplined.

As if he had been trained never to reveal more than necessary.

I picked up one of the photographs.

Something caught my eye immediately.

"This isn't the same crime scene."

Everyone looked at me.

"The position of the body is different."

Hale frowned.

"What do you mean?"

I placed the police photograph beside the new one.

"The victim's left hand."

I pointed to both pictures.

"In ours..."

"It was empty."

"In this one..."

I swallowed.

"He was holding an envelope."

Silence filled the room.

The envelope was missing by the time police arrived.

Someone had removed it.

Before us.

The stranger closed his briefcase.

"My employer had one message for Profiler Voss."

My heartbeat slowed.

"For me?"

He nodded once.

"He said..."

"'You're looking at the victims."

"'Start looking at the survivors.'"

Before anyone could stop him...

He walked out.

The room remained silent long after the door closed.

Adrian finally whispered,

"Who exactly..."

"...is your employer?"

The stranger never answered.

Neither did Director Hale.

But for the first time...

I realized something.

The man everyone feared...

Was already several moves ahead of us.

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