Novel & Cerita Riddle Detektif

I nudged my head towards the top bannister, and he followed my gaze before giving me a weird little nod. I am not the investigator Amun is. He can take the thousands of small threads and snippets of information we uncover and tie them into a bow and point out who, why, and where the criminal is. My nature is more wolfish, a predator that hounds and charges and snaps with fang and claw until its prey is subdued - yet I felt I finally had an idea how to find our killer. If, and I do stress ‘if’, the killer had pushed Estelle off the bannister, it was almost a certainty I would be able to detect their scent on the body unless of course, my girl was the murderer.

The spot has to be somewhere here on the estate. But where? I hummed to myself and repeated the riddle slowly, trying to pick apart the words. Looks like detective Kiera won't be calling it a day after all. "Kiera?" Rhemir called again. I listened with half an ear, but I was kind of mid investigation, so I didn't have a second to spare to reply him. Better he thinks I'm a weirdo and decide to wash his hands off me. It's the best thing that could happen, really. Lest a girl that fancies him come and beat me up for being too friendly with him.

Lunatte didn’t know what it was. “Detective is still trying to find evidence that Mommy is innocent. Everything has been going smoothly so far.” Adeline nodded her head. “That detective. What’s his name? Is he great? Mommy, are you sure he helped Mommy solve the case?” asked Adeline again. Lunatte chuckled. “He is more than great, Adeline. You need not doubt him.” “Is it true? What’s his name?” asked Adeline again, because the core question had not been answered.

“You’re making a mistake.” Detective Harris, a seasoned officer with sharp eyes and an even sharper instinct, smirked as he held up a thick folder. “Funny, because this evidence says otherwise.” He flipped it open, letting Nelson catch a glimpse of the incriminating documents. “Fraud, money laundering, arms trafficking, kidnapping, and let’s not forget attempted murder.” Harris clucked his tongue. “Quite the collection, Nelson.” Nelson’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t say a word. His eyes flickered over the crowd, scanning for any sign of weakness, any escape route.

His voice trails off, in deep thought. As soon as they get back to the police station, the detective gives his direct boss the run down of their visit to Richard, and then he heads back to this office. As soon as he sits down, a thought hits him, a very random thought. He reaches into his journal and reads something inside... "Hit to the head certainly a man..." And Arielle, who's now the prime suspect is missing in the same manner that Tiara went missing before being found dead.

“On the twelfth, what were you doing?” “I was supposed to meet Iris so we could get back together, but my car broke down.” The eager detective flipped through his notes. “I thought you said it was a flat tire.” “Same difference.” “Well which was it?” “What’s it to you?” Cal asked. “I’m a detective trying to solve a murder.” “You don’t think I killed that fucking prick do you?” “I’m not sure, but I intend to figure out who did.” Detective Richards replied. “Well you need to be looking at Iris’s other little boyfriend, not me.” He stated.

“So here is your answer. Since the attack, the work has been difficult. My best sources were rogue cops, and most of them got fired. There is also this detective within my reach, who does not seem to want to give up. – I try to make things easy. Help me, Mr. Campbell - Pierce mumbles. I am very, very patient. Otherwise, he would go to that detective and feed him his teasing. “You know you won't get a solution from me. When you start looking in the right places, then you'll have an answer, Detective.

I asked. “To see detective Rachael solando. She's a forensic psychiatrist.” He rested his hand on the gear. “You have to explicate the situation to her. Joe is smarter than we know. If he notice any detective is after him. He might try unaliving her and bounce on the victim.” I crackle my knuckles. Though I have never heard of her. “Racheal Solando is a forensic scientist. She's one of the top ranked detectives in this country.” Jayden tightened his hands on the seat next to him.

The edges were curled from the heat, but the center remained intact. "There's something on the back," the tech said just before she gave it to Detective Dean with gloved hands. Detective Dean, a sharp-eyed woman in her fifties who had been solving arson cases longer than I'd been alive, studied it carefully before showing it to me. In small letters, written with the kind of professional engraving you'd find at an expensive jewelry store, were the words: "A Romano always pays his debts." But it was what the tech found next that made chills run down my spine.

“So the guy’s getting anonymous links to an underground darknet site.” “By guy you mean DC Harlow, right? The detective whose wife and child were burned alive.” “That’s right.” “Very Derek Raymond.” “What?” “The protagonist I mean, like the unnamed police officer who narrates all of Raymond’s Factory novels.” “Oh yeah, yes, that’s it exactly.”