Part 6: Camera

"Oh, my God." 

I covered my mouth in horrid shock as I take a closer look of the sixth victim. The police are walking around everywhere around the house, pretty convinced that no possible evidences are available. 

But I beg to differ. 

In every perfect crime, as father said, there's always a hidden evidence that unintentionally gets away from being seen. Probably because they're too secretive or not that obvious to be given attention to. And as a detective, he said, it's my job to look for it. Not anyone else's. 

"He died fighting for his life," Clayton said to me from behind. He points at the victim's fingernails covered in blood, emphasizing that the man fought back before the killer finally got him dead. 

"This is awful." I replied. And probably what I can only ever reply. 

I've dealt with a lot of cases in my few years of being a detective. Robbery, vandalism, theft, arson, and so much more. 

But murder? No. And not as gruesome as this. 

I took out my pad from the pocket of my coat and started writing down every detail I can see in the victim's body. 

From his head, all the way down to the soles of his shoes... All are covered in blood. His eyes are wide open. There are murder weapons scattered on the ground. I can see knives, a baseball bat, and shattered pieces of glass everywhere. 

"There has to be some evidence here." I told Clayton, turning to him. "The police hasn't found anything just yet." 

He put his phone back into his pocket and open the camera that's hanging on his neck. 

"If you tell me what I think," he says, taking a picture of the dead body on the ground with a bright flash. "I'd say the police didn't even bother to look for any in the first place." 

His last sentence got me a bit stuck in the moment. I hold my notepad tightly as I look at Clayton in surprise and confusion. 

"What do you mean?" I asked him. "They're one of us. It's their job to look for evidence, too." 

"I know," he said, turning the camera off. "But isn't it suspicious that they didn't examine the victim at all?" He pointed to the ground. 

"I don't..." 

"Victims are always the first thing to check." He scratches his head. "The surroundings comes second. Then evidence." 

I was left wordless as he proceeded to walk around the house, bringing nothing but his camera. He signaled me not to touch anything and I replied with a quick nod. 

"And the fingerprints?" I quickly walk towards him and imitate the pace of his footsteps. 

"I'll handle them," he said. "You should look for anything you can find around." He points at every corner of the dining room. "Opened drawers, windows. Just don't touch anything." 

I nodded again and let him do his own thing. I can see some police officers talking outside the house, while their car light stays on. 

I don't know whether I should cooperate with any of them. What Clayton said just got me thinking about it. We have our own business to mind. 

All I'm sure of is that I have to find something that will lead us closer to the murderer. 

I take a closer look once again at the dead body of the victim. There must've been something here that will surely help us track who did this to him. 

Slowly, I got on my knees and observe the lifeless corpse. There are several scratches on his skin. From both of his arms, all the way down to his legs. His body is literally covered in blood and there's nothing more horrible for me to say. 

"You won't find anything in there." 

I turn around to see a police offer looking straightly at me. 

"Excuse me?" 

"We examined the body." He fixes the cap on his head. "You're wasting your time. You can go upstairs and look around." 

A bit vexed of what I just heard, I stood up and face him. 

"Have you examined him completely?" I asked. "Do you even know how many stab wounds he got?" 

"Around fifty," the police officer replied. 

I scoffed. "Fifty, what?" 

"Above fifty." 

"No," I bit my lip. "I want to know exactly how many." 

"No need for the specifics, young lady. Maybe you can just go home and..." He scanned me from head to toe. "join an online community of useless..." He paused. "female detectives." 

A huge sense of anger suddenly fueled inside me. 

"Asshole," I replied, crossing my arms. "Maybe I will. But only if you'd join an online community of police officers who can't count shit." I raised an eyebrow. "Would you take the offer?" 

He suddenly took a step back after he looked over my shoulder. I can see him gulped for the third time and fixes his cap again. 

"Brace yourself." the police officer said before walking away. 

I took a deep breath and turn around to see what made that ass leave. My anxiety level just seemed to drop off a bit when I see Clayton holding his camera on both hands, slightly smiling at me. 

- 

"I got this," He leaned on the back door of his car and gestured me to do the same. 

I leaned beside him. It took a couple of seconds of silence. I watch him as he waits for his camera to open. 

"Here," He takes the strap of the camera off his neck and handed it to me. "It's like a weird symbol... written on one of the shredded pieces of glass." 

"Wait... It's written in blood?" I asked, zooming the picture. 

He nodded. 

The picture contains a broken piece of glass on the floor; with a blood on it, forming an unknown symbol that I haven't seen before. 

"He must've been part of a cult," I whispered. "Only cult members would do such thing." 

"And to kill without motive, yes." He stands straight. "But with a religious agenda." 

We both looked at each other after he said that. I grab the camera firmly and turn to the picture again, slightly coughing. 

"How 'bout the previous victims?" I asked. "Is there a symbol like this somewhere around their house?" 

There was a moment of silence. I keep pressing the camera button to the right, analyzing every picture he took from the crime scene. 

"It was Officer Douglas' private detectives who handled those cases." He sighed. "But he's given us the rights to investigate those, too. I'll visit those houses on Thursday, if you care to know." 

I turn to look at him for a short while. 

"On Thursday?" I asked, thinking hard if there were any minor cases I left at the office. 

"Yeah," He coughed. "You don't have to join if you don't want to. You can just... create a written report about tonight's murder." 

Quickly, I shake my head. 

"No," I said. "I've waited my entire life for cases like this." I paused and look away. "I'll join you." 

"You sure?" 

"Of course," I said. 

"Alright," Clayton replied, putting both hands inside the pocket of his pants. 

Again, a moment of silence came. I keep scanning the pictures on his camera to distract myself and pretend just how busy I am. 

It seems to me that I've been appearing to be a little too awkward tonight. And that's far from the usual Samara Culkin I know. 

I stopped scanning as I suddenly see a photograph of mine on the screen. The profile side of my face revealed, with strands of my hair tucked behind my ear. 

I blinked to make sure I was seeing what I'm seeing. 

I realized this picture was when I was checking the body earlier and before the police officer came up to me. 

Without a warning, Clayton quickly took the camera from my hands and turn it off. 

"I accidentally clicked it," he said, referring to the picture. "Sorry," 

I bit my lip in confusion and raised an eyebrow. "And you accidentally focused the camera on me, too?" 

I see him nod as he keeps avoiding my gaze. 

"Yeah. I didn't mean it." He took his car keys from the pocket of his coat and gestured me to get to my own car. 

"O-Okay." I replied, somehow not believing any of the words he just said. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." 

I nodded and give him a slight smile, now walking back to my car and pretending I didn't see what I saw on his camera.