As usual, Sophia Kirchhoff entered the underground parking garage, only to suddenly remember that her car was still in the workshop. Two weeks earlier, during a suspect chase, she had crashed into a lamppost. She had violated over a dozen traffic regulations in the process, lost all her license points, and had been formally reprimanded for reckless behavior.
Frustrated, she stormed back out. A horn honked behind her. A police-issue VW Passat rolled up next to her, and through the rolled-down window appeared a familiar, smiling face.
"Need a ride, Sophia?" said Daniel Schäfer, grinning.
"No thanks," Sophia replied sharply.
"Still not talking to your brother?" Daniel asked, already guessing what was going on. "Come on—your brother is the head of the homicide division. Most people would kill to have a connection like that. If it were me, I'd be smiling in my sleep."
Sophia suddenly stopped in her tracks. Her brows furrowed. "In everyone's eyes, I'm just 'the inspector's sister.' No one treats me like Sophia Kirchhoff. If you want to joke around, go ahead. I'm done caring." With that, she picked up her pace and left the garage.
"I was just making small talk… why's she so pissed?" Daniel muttered, scratching his head in confusion.
After passing a few intersections and deliberately taking a different route than the one Daniel would've used, Sophia took out her phone and ordered a ride through a ride-sharing app. A driver accepted the request almost instantly. But after five minutes of waiting, the car icon on the app still hadn't moved.
Irritated, Sophia called: "What's going on? I've been standing here for five minutes!"
The driver answered casually, without even an apology: "Sorry, pretty lady, I've got a bit of a situation here. Mind coming over?"
"Forget it, I'll order another car!"
"No, no, don't cancel—I'll give you 20% off, okay? Do you see that beef hotpot place across the street?"
"I see it. Why?"
"There's a little alley right above it. If you walk through it, you'll see me."
"What a hassle…"
Sophia hung up but crossed the street and went through the alley. She figured the "situation" he mentioned was probably traffic or a blocked entrance. But the street beyond was nearly empty. A man stood at the curb, hosing down a car using a long hose that snaked out of the back door of a nearby kebab shop.
It was a red Opel Astra. She checked the license plate. That was the one.
She walked up and stood beside the man with her arms folded. The driver didn't notice her at first and kept washing the car, muttering to himself:
"Bloody pigeon… with all the places to crap, you chose my windshield?"
Sophia cleared her throat loudly.
The man turned around with a cheerful smile. "Oh, you're here! Hop in!"
She glared at him, furious. "This is the 'situation'? I stood by the street for five minutes while you were casually washing your car?!"
"No need to be so serious, it was just five minutes."
"You say that like it's nothing. Even wasting a single second of someone else's time isn't nothing. Can you pay me back for those five minutes?"
The driver turned to face her, still wearing the polished smile of a middle-aged man—but now with a more serious tone.
"With all due respect, I disagree. From where you were standing, it's only 50 meters as the crow flies. But I'd have had to drive a full circle around the block, which would've taken me at least ten minutes. So in reality, I saved you five minutes. As for washing the car—well, I have a bit of OCD. There was bird crap on the windshield, and it was bothering me. Could've distracted me while driving. Isn't keeping the car clean part of giving better service?"
"Spare me the nonsense," Sophia snapped. "If that's all true, why didn't you just call and tell me instead of letting me stand there like an idiot?"
"That's on me," the man admitted. "I was on a call—my mum just had surgery for a brain thrombosis. The doctor was updating me. You understand I couldn't just hang up, right?"
Sophia Kirchhoff was speechless and fuming. "Come on, drop the emotional act and just drive!"
She sank into the back seat and glanced at the driver's license posted on the dashboard. The name read Gabriel Voss. Gabriel adjusted the rearview mirror, and his eyes casually drifted toward Sophia. Then he gave a sly smile and asked, "So, gorgeous, where are you headed?"
"Are you serious? You accepted the ride without even checking the destination?"
"Apologies. I used to be a taxi driver — old habit. I just like to ask people where they're going. You know, chit-chat."
"Who wants to chat with you? You're just full of yourself."
After a few minutes, Sophia noticed his restless eyes glancing at her again and again, which made her increasingly uncomfortable. She knocked on the back of the driver's seat and said sharply, "Eyes on the road. Stop staring at me."
"I'm not staring. I'm observing."
Sophia laughed bitterly. "Observing what, exactly?"
"You've got a slight liver imbalance. Have you had trouble sleeping lately? Bitter taste in the mouth? Thick coating on your tongue in the morning?"
"Oh, what now — you're into medicine too?"
"I know a little," Gabriel said with a smile as he reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pack of gums.
"Hey, watch out for the road while driving. That's just basic decency!"
"I am watching out — just checking how many I've got left, okay?" Gabriel shook the pack, then tossed it back. "So, what do you do for a living, miss?"
"None of your business. Just drive."
"Let me guess — police?"
Sophia flinched and looked down at herself. She was wearing plain clothes. Could he have seen her gun? No way — it was secured beneath her jacket, and the holster was well concealed. There was no way he could've spotted it.
The chatty driver continued, "Professions leave traces on people. The way you look at people — that's not how civilians look. That's a law enforcement gaze."
"Then why are you so sure I'm a cop?"
Gabriel smirked. "You got in just two blocks from the city's criminal investigation department. I just saw a couple of patrol cars pulling in. So, tell me — what case are you working on?"
Sophia didn't intend to reveal anything. But she saw a chance to throw him off and mess with him a little. "An online ride-hailing murder case."
Gabriel replied calmly, "Really? If you need help, let me know. By the way, is there a reward for tips?"
"You have a lead?"
"Not yet. But if the reward's decent, I might go digging."
"Oh, you talk like you could actually solve the case."
"Solving cases is a matter of luck. Maybe today's my lucky day."
That irritated Sophia more than she'd expected. She wanted to snap back, but her phone buzzed with a WeChat notification. Xaver Dorn, her colleague, had just added her to a discussion group. He always created one when working a case, for sharing updates and info.
Just then, Xaver messaged excitedly: "Found out who the ride-hailing driver was that day!"
Sophia smirked, thinking he was showing off.
A long message appeared in the chat:
"Gabriel Voss, male, 36 years old, born in Würzburg, 15 years driving experience. License plate number..."
Sophia looked up — and froze. The smug face on the driver's license matched the man behind the wheel. Cold sweat formed on her back.
In a split second, she drew her gun and aimed it directly at Christian's head.
"I'm ordering you to pull over. Right now!"
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