BBDW 5 [Black Butterfly] - Nevereverland
Section 5 (UNEDITED)
– Hello.
Did you get it well this time? I didn’t expect that there would be an idiot who didn’t know that taking an envelope with a specified recipient wasn’t a cool thing to do. My bad.
I’m doing fine. The weather is nice these days. What about you, detective? You must have been tired after I broke out, right? After the disturbance is over, have some beers and get some rest. Do you want me to take Heineken with me sometime?
Now that the news has calmed down, I feel much more comfortable. It wouldn’t be bad to live quietly like this. Oh, you know that ‘living quietly’ doesn’t mean I feel the same happiness in life like everyone else, right? It’s different for me, but we’re similar, detective.
I may feel far away from you, but I don’t feel nervous because we’re somehow connected. When the time is right, I’ll come to you if you need my help. You can trust me. I’ll write again, stay healthy.
– Alvin Jones.
“Jude, wouldn’t it be better to talk to the chief?”
“……..”
“Jude.”
In the smoothly slow-moving car, Jude shook his head with a tired “yes” as he opened the letter with a sleepy face. There was a lump of worry on Tim’s face.
“No, forget it. I knew something would happen.”
“Did he say anything special? Maybe a quote to estimate where he is now.”
“No. Where’s the nice weather? Probably no fingerprints… The first letter didn’t even reveal anything. Oh, I’m tired.”
Jude, who roughly folded the letter and put it in his arms, leaned in his seat with a long groan. Guessing where they were headed now, Tim frowned anxiously. Despite this mess, the police work continues. No matter how dangerous Alvin Jones was, he could not make the entire police force cling to only this one manhunt. Yes, he understands. The reason he has to come out in the midst of all this fuss is that, in any way, crime doesn’t stop according to the police situation.
But he didn’t want to drag his struggling partner near midnight to another murder scene.
“Are you going to be all right? What if I go in alone?”
“That’s it. I’m not a sensitive girl, so you don’t have to take care of me, Tim-Oppa.”
Being half-dead doesn't stop his speech habit. Smiling, Tim slowly pulled over. When the voice of a terrified man was heard on the phone at the police station, he vomited word by word in a long, paroxysmal cry. “Wh-when I came home, my mother is dead. Please help me.” Although it could have been a prank call — especially these days –how can they not go out after receiving a report. Even to judge the authenticity and severity, the dispatch of personnel was necessary.
And the headquarters sent Jude, who had just finished another interrogation, back to the scene with Tim. “We don’t have enough manpower right now, so get the hang of it and if you think you can’t do it, we’ll send supports but finish it in your hands as much as you can!” – Was the kind words of the Chief.
Cautiously, trying not to sound as loud as possible, the two police officers approached the private house. The window was lit. Tim looked carefully inside first, and then his face was ashen.
One severed body sitting in front of the table, one head on the table, a gut drawn to the ground, two hands crammed inside the mouth. There was blood splattered everywhere like cheap paint.
“Oh, that’s terrible.”
Jude clicked his tongue as he whispered. There seemed to be no one in the house now that he looked around carefully. He couldn’t hear anything from upstairs. But without letting his guard down, he slowly turned the unlocked doorknob, and the two detectives entered the house.
There was a sharp smell of fishiness. The disgusting dry blood and the smell of organs that have begun to decay are not comparable to fish at all. Human has a nastier smell than most animals when they start to rot. As they climbed to the second floor with a small frown, they could hear someone crying through the cracks of the door almost imperceptibly. With one eye contact with each other, Tim kicked the door first.
“Freeze! N.Y.P.D!”
One man was lying inside. Crying with his head covered, he was surprised by Tim’s voice and jumped back. When Tim saw the man, he asked without lowering his gun.
“Are you the one who reported it?”
“Ah…….Yes, yes, me, I’m Lloyd Zegens. That, uh, what’s out there, that, my, my, my mother…….”
“Is there anybody else in this house?”
“Yes, yes, yes, me, it’s just me.”
His face was wet with tears. Apparently, there was no danger, and they slowly lowered the gun. Looking at the man shivering pitifully, Tim turned his head toward Jude.
“Stay here. I’ll go ask for some help.”
*
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