Chapter 15 Red Dress Fabric

On the other side of the cave, Harper noticed something odd.

"James, come check this out," she called.

I hurried over and saw Harper pointing at a patch of soil. "Look, this dirt's a different color."

I squatted down to get a better look. The soil was darker and finer than the rest.

"This looks like..." I rubbed it between my fingers. "Some kind of makeup."

"Makeup?" Harper asked, confused. "Could the killer be wearing it?"

"Could be," I said. "Or it's the victim's. We can't rule anything out."

Just then, Isabella came running over with a piece of fabric. "Look what I found."

It was a piece of red fabric, the same color as the dress from "The Tragedy of the Red Rose."

"This fabric..." I examined it closely. "The edges are really neat, like it was cut with scissors."

"Could the killer have left it on purpose?" Isabella asked.

"Hard to say," I admitted. "But this definitely links the two cases."

My heart pounded. Two bodies—this was getting more complicated.

We followed the cops deeper into the cave, where a nasty smell of decay hit us.

Under the flashlight beam, the second body lay sprawled out, dressed in tattered clothes, bruises all over.

"Male victim, dead over a week, multiple blunt force injuries, fatal wound to the head." Forensic pathologist Ella, wearing latex gloves, turned the body over, examining every detail.

Her voice was soft, a stark contrast to the creepy setting.

Ella was the youngest forensic pathologist in the department, but she was a pro, always finding clues we missed.

The first time I met Ella was at a dismemberment case two years ago.

It was my first big case, and I was a nervous wreck.

The bloody scene and the smell almost made me puke, but Ella stayed calm and did her job meticulously.

Her focused expression and professional demeanor earned my respect.

Ella was petite, with a slender build, and her shoulder-length hair was always neat, highlighting her fair skin.

She always wore rimless glasses, and her eyes behind them were clear and bright, with a hint of melancholy.

Her features were delicate, not stunning, but comforting.

Ella graduated from a top medical university's forensic science program and then went abroad for a Ph.D. in forensic medicine.

She was passionate about her work, treating every case with utmost seriousness, striving for perfection.

Her meticulous nature and keen observation skills always helped her find crucial info from subtle clues.

In our subsequent work, Ella and I teamed up many times.

She always comes through with professional advice and help whenever I'm stuck.

She wasn't just my capable assistant but also a trusted friend.

I remember this one time we were working on a serial murder case together. The killer's methods were brutal, leaving almost no clues at the scene.

We worked non-stop for 72 hours with no breakthroughs. I was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and almost ready to give up.

Then, Ella found a tiny needle mark on the body, something easily missed if not for her sharp eyes. By analyzing it, she figured out the killer used a special anesthetic, which helped us narrow down the suspect's profession.

Thanks to Ella's clue, we eventually caught the killer.

Since then, my admiration for Ella has only grown.

Back to the present, the three of us kept searching the cave meticulously.

Back at the police station, the two bodies were sent to the autopsy room.

The strong smell of formaldehyde filled the air, and the cold metal instruments reflected the harsh white light, adding to the eerie vibe.

Ella, in her protective gear, stood before the dissecting table. The light made her face look pale, but her gaze was focused, showing no fear.

She picked up the scalpel, took a deep breath, and got to work.

Michael and I stood by, watching.

Ella's movements were gentle and precise, like she was handling a piece of art rather than a corpse.

She first examined the wounds on the victim from "The Tragedy of the Red Rose," carefully measuring their depth and angle.

"The dagger was extremely sharp," she observed, using tweezers to hold up a piece of extracted ballistic gel. "One clean, fatal blow. The killer knew exactly where to strike for a quick kill. The angle and force suggest a calm, practiced hand. This points to professional training, or..." she paused, "he's done this before. Many times."

Next, she examined the male corpse.

The body was highly decomposed, giving off a nauseating odor.

Ella frowned slightly but didn't back down, focusing even more intently on examining every wound.

She used a scalpel to cut through the decomposed skin, revealing the bones and muscle tissue beneath.

"The victim suffered multiple blows before death," she narrated, recording her findings. "Several fractures, three broken ribs, and a shattered left tibia. The fatal blow was to the head, likely from repeated strikes with a blunt object."

She extracted a piece of bone fragment from the victim's head and handed it to me. "The weapon should be heavy and angular, like... a hammer?"

I took the bone fragment and examined it closely. The jagged edges of the bone indeed suggested repeated blows from a heavy object.