57. Psychopath

New York

“Here, sir.”

The lovely secretary of Lorenzo offers him a mug of black coffee and two pills of Advil. The senior detective was having a hard time focusing on scattered documents after that close encounter with a familiar face. The clock was ticking fast, and from the past half an hour, he was scanning the same page, trying to surmise the words, which now seem like wriggling insects. Nodding at the beautiful female thankfully he tosses the medicine down his throat and drinks the burning- beverage.

Huffing a refreshing sigh, he collects the papers in a folder and holds the hot caffeine in another. Erasing the haughty- image of a stoic woman from the back of his mind, he leaves his cabin with newfound determination. It was 4 a.m. He still had some time to crack the case. All the pawns of a dangerous game are standing in front of him. All he has to do is make them sing on a forbidden tune. Wearing both bewitchery and im