Chapter Six – "Shadow in the House"
As the first rays of sunlight broke over the city, Soren arrived at Victor's residence, accompanied by a group of police officers.
The house resembled an ornate palace — intricately designed, surrounded by a meticulously maintained garden, a reflection of a man who loved control and order.
Soren approached the grand front door and knocked softly:
Knock… knock…
A short man in a black formal suit opened the door, his face marked by a mix of concern and surprise.
He said quietly,
"Good morning. How may I assist you?"
Soren pulled out his badge and replied calmly,
"We're here regarding Mr. Victor's death. We need to enter and examine the scene."
The butler hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside and said,
"Of course. Please come in."
They stepped into the grand hall.
The walls were covered with oil paintings and bronze sculptures. The floor, polished marble, gleamed underfoot. Everything was in its precise place — cold, calculated, immaculate.
Soren said,
"Lead us to the room where Mr. Victor was found."
The butler led them silently down a series of long hallways before stopping in front of a large wooden door.
"We haven't touched anything," he said softly.
"The body was taken, but the room remains as it was."
Soren stepped inside.
Thick curtains blocked out the morning light, casting the room into an eerie twilight.
The air was filled with the lingering scent of old cologne — suspended between memory and silence.
He began to examine the space.
In the far corner stood a wide desk, scattered with open books and loose papers.
One officer approached to inspect them, while Soren's eyes moved slowly across the room's details.
"Did Victor use this room often?" Soren asked.
"Yes," the butler replied. "He spent most of his time here — reading, writing, always behind a closed door."
Soren continued his search until a large painting on the wall caught his attention.
It seemed slightly… misaligned.
He gently lifted it. Behind it, embedded in the wall, was a small safe.
He signaled to one of the officers to examine it, then moved to Victor's chair and sat down, surveying the room with his cold, calculating gaze.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
He raised it to his ear and said simply,
"Soren. Who is this?"
A voice from the other end responded,
"This is the lab. We ran all the requested tests on Mr. Victor's body… No toxins. The death appears completely natural. Cardiac arrest."
Soren ended the call without a word. Then turned to the others and said,
"We're done here. Return to headquarters."
But inside… he wasn't convinced.
Something wasn't right. His instincts never lied.
He drove straight to the forensic center himself.
---
The medical examiner greeted him and began detailing the autopsy results step by step.
Every test was clean: no toxins, no wounds, no bruises, no clots.
"Did you notice any minute signs?" Soren asked.
"Punctures, fiber residues, micro-tears — anything unusual?"
"Nothing worth noting," the examiner replied. "The body is completely intact."
Still, Soren insisted on examining the corpse himself.
He entered the refrigerated room, pulled out the drawer, and gazed at Victor's body lying still and silent.
An hour passed… two…
Night had begun to fall.
Yet Soren remained, silently reviewing every detail.
At last, he sat near the head — tired… eyes heavy…
And then he saw it.
A tiny black dot — just behind the ear.
Barely visible.
He froze.
Then suddenly stood upright.
> "This… this isn't normal."
He grabbed a magnifying tool, examined it closely.
He whispered,
> "It's not a bruise… It's the mark of a nano-mechanical injection. A pressure-based needle…"
He stepped back, his voice now firm.
> "I need to return to Victor's house immediately.
We missed something…
Something important…
> This wasn't a natural death.
It was murder…without a trace