Chapter 2: A Cold Visit
It was ten o'clock in the morning.
In front of a financial institution's building, Soren and Kaiser stood beneath a lifeless grey sky.
Kaiser yawned lazily and muttered,
"Soren, what are we doing here this early? I really don't like financial institutions…"
Soren replied in his usual cold tone, without turning to him,
"This was the victim's workplace—Mr. Dranos. I found the address last night. We start here. He might've left behind something… something that points to what he was dealing with."
The air was heavy with silence, thick with anticipation. Both men knew this moment could reveal a crucial thread.
They began to inspect the space carefully. Papers were scattered across the desk, and some folders lay open, as if someone had rummaged through them in a hurry.
While searching, Soren moved aside a pile of documents and discovered a small notebook, carefully hidden. He silently gestured to Kaiser, who began flipping through its pages.
"Look at this," Kaiser said, concern creeping into his voice.
"Dranos wrote that he felt like he was being watched… especially after uncovering illegal financial operations. His income suddenly dropped, and he began feeling isolated at work."
Soren rubbed his chin thoughtfully and murmured,
"This may be more than just a murder case…"
Suddenly—the door opened.
A man in his sixties walked in. His hair was white, and he wore gold-rimmed glasses and a sharp black suit. His voice was formal as he said,
"I'm the owner of this institution. My name is Mr. Victor. I heard two detectives would be conducting an investigation here."
Soren responded with his usual guarded tone,
"That's correct. I'm Soren, and this is my colleague, Kaiser."
Kaiser gave a quick smile.
"Pleasure to meet you, sir."
Soren stepped closer to the man and asked calmly,
"I'll need to ask you a few questions. It won't take long."
Victor gave a small, uneasy smile.
"Of course. Ask whatever you need."
Soren began to question him about the last time he saw Dranos, and whether he'd noticed anything unusual. Victor admitted he'd seen clear signs of anxiety in Dranos in recent weeks—but hadn't imagined it was anything this serious.
As Soren and Kaiser listened, they noticed that Victor avoided eye contact. His tension wasn't hidden.
Soren asked in a sharper tone,
"Was Dranos involved in any illegal financial dealings?"
Victor hesitated briefly, then replied,
"I don't know anything about that… but if there's anything I can do to help you, I won't hesitate."
Once the conversation ended, Victor left the room, leaving behind a heavy silence.
Kaiser spoke in a low voice,
"What do you think?"
Soren, his grey eyes motionless, answered,
"He's hiding something… Keep an eye on him."
He turned toward the door, and just before stepping out, he added in a cryptic tone:
"Assign one of our men to tail Victor… I want everything on him.
I'm going home to rest a bit. Call me if anything comes up."
"Yes, Soren."
He exited the building and walked to his black car—a sleek, understated design. It wasn't sporty or luxurious, but silent, precise, and elegant… just like its owner.
The plate was simple, unmarked. The windows were tinted. The seats, dark grey leather.
It smelled faintly of cold leather and clean weapon metal.
In the trunk: a leather bag containing case files, black gloves, and a flashlight.
He drove in silence. His smartphone was linked to the car system—but it rarely rang. And when it did, he often didn't answer.
---
Half an hour later, Soren arrived home.
The house stood on the edge of the city, far from the noise, surrounded by tall trees and wide windows overlooking undisturbed calm.
A modern structure in deep grey, it whispered elegance without shouting it.
He parked his car and quietly pushed the front door open. Inside, everything was simple—meticulously organized, as though it were a map inside its owner's mind.
Dark wooden floors. Nearly bare walls, save for one sharply hung black-and-white painting.
The lighting was dim and automatic, shifting with his steps.
His office overlooked the city from a high angle. On the desk: a leather-bound notebook, a small silver knife, and an old clock frozen at exactly 1:17.
He undressed, showered, and put on a light set of pajamas that revealed the defined contours of his body. Then, he sat silently by the window.
On the grey couch lay a white cat, fur as pure as snow, eyes blue as the coldest sky.
It watched in silence… observing everything.
Soren had named it Raya.
It never warmed to anyone—not even Kaiser, who had tried multiple times, only to be met with cold stares.
Raya moved lightly, appearing suddenly on the edge of the desk, staring at the papers as if he understood them.
Kaiser had once joked,
"A white ghost living with a human ghost."
Soren hadn't replied.
Raya wasn't just a cat… but a white shadow in a house inhabited by nothing but silence.
---
The phone rang suddenly.
Soren answered with a serious tone, without even glancing at the screen:
"What is it?"
It was Kaiser's voice on the other end… but this time, it was different.
Shaken. Hesitant. Cracked.
"Soren… Mr. Victor… he's been found dead."