Of the Twisted and the Lost

Chapter 37:

"This man was murdered," Sam starts, eyes focused on the body. "With a knife, no less. He was probably stabbed in the stomach and died due to blood loss." 

Junjie waits for his partner to add more observations, but when he doesn't, Junjie sighs. "Basic, I suppose," he drawls. "However, he did not get stabbed in the stomach." 

"Basic?" Sam practically screeches. "And no, he did get stabbed in the stomach! The police have already confirmed it!" 

"Ah," Junjie says with a knowing smile. "So you didn't make your observations; rather, you used what the law enforcements said." 

Sam purses his lips, almost looking like he wants to throw something at Junjie. 

"Move," Junjie orders. "I'll show you how the professional detective does it." 

Sam scoffs. "You're hardly a 'professional' detective," he mumbles under his breath. 

Junjie arches an eyebrow. "You really want to bet what the police are saying?" 

His partner falls silent, and once Junjie is satisfied that Sam will remain quiet, he launches into his speech. 

"He did not get stabbed in the stomach, though he was repeatedly impaled in the arm," Junjie explains. "Most likely with his shirt taken off, since you don't see any rips on his sleeve." 

"Why would a murderer take off someone's shirt?" Sam asks skeptically. 

"Why else? To make the victim feel humiliated, of course. Now the shirt was put back on, but you can clearly see blood soaking through the shirt, the most blood near the stomach, right? Obviously the blood would slowly tilt downwards — and the only place down is the stomach, making it look like he got stabbed in the stomach. But if you look closer, the only scar that you see on his stomach is a recent one, not the one received tonight. The wound is healing, but not enough so that it fools all those other idiots who decided to examine the body." 

"What about the knife? It's driven into his belly. There's no way he could have not been stabbed in the stomach." 

"It's a simple trick. Look closer, sidekick." 

"For the millionth time—" 

"You've only corrected me about two times, hence you can't argue that you've told me 'for a millionth time' that you're not a sidekick. I heard you earlier, I just decided not to heed your words." 

"Whatever, Captain." 

Junjie smiles, pleased. "I'm glad you've decided to address your leader in the correct format," he says. 

Sam glares back, annoyance flaring in his brown eyes. 

"Look closer," Junjie prods. 

"You want me to stick my face into a dead man's body?" Sam looks slightly speechless, as he stares at Junjie's face, checking if he's joking. "No. I'm not doing that. No." 

An impatient sigh escapes Junjie. "It's just a corpse," he says. "You aren't scared, are you?" 

"Scared?" Sam barks. "This is a dead body we're talking about!" 

"I thought we were supposed to be checking and finding evidence. Now look closely or I will make you do it." 

With a final dirty look, Sam places his head closer to the body. 

"Now tell me what you see." 

Sam frowns as he holds his breath against the stench. 

"I don't see anything," Sam says. "Well, nothing out of the new—" 

Junjie groans. 

Why did I agree to this partnership? I can't work with such an idiot who can't tell the difference between illusions and reality, Junjie thinks. Oh right, I have to because someone threatened to take away my permission to enter crime scenes. 

"You see the knife, yes?" Junjie asks through gritted teeth. "It's been taken out of flesh, as you can see the blood that looks like it's been pulled cleanly out. They didn't stab his stomach — they placed it where it would seem like his stomach was stabbed. They just threw it at his arm, but since his arm is currently broken and stabbed repeatedly, it seemed like they hit his stomach, when really, it's just his arm. Judging by the bleeding, the victim was stabbed, though this will have to be confirmed through a thorough post-mortem." 

Sam gapes at him. 

"Oh," he says dumbly. "I see the arm now." 

"Finally," grumbles Junjie. "Now let me continue my explanation. You see his hands are in his pocket, which means he definitely did not expect to see this person. If he did see the person, then he would've screamed and took his hands out of his pocket, perhaps using self-defense. Most self-defense uses hands and it would be considerably harder if you are fighting with your hands put in one place. So obviously, that would conclude the fact that he did not see the murderer." 

"What if he killed himself?" Sam suggests. 

"No, no, no, isn't that part obvious? Of course he didn't murder himself. The easiest way to kill yourself to close your eyes and then stab it straight into your gut. But since he didn't do that, most likely someone was deliberately trying to kill him." 

Junjie narrows his eyes before his gaze falls to Jared's coat pocket. There's a lump of an object, making colors of periwinkle-blue suspicion echo through the air. 

He leans forward, slipping his hand into Jared's pocket— 

"What is it?" Sam asks, as he notices Junjie's wide eyes. 

"Just some random paper," Junjie lies blatantly, as his eyebrows furrow together. "It's nothing important." 

"Really?" Sam folds his arms across his chest, doubt snaking through his expression. "Despite being a good detective, you lie terribly." 

"Of course I don't," shoots back Junjie, clearly irritated, as he folds the piece of paper and stuffs it into his own coat. "Alright. Continue your observations, Sam." 

Sam frowns. "I thought you were supposed to be making your detective explanations," he shoots back. 

"Oh. Well. Uh, he's obviously been a few hours now. Blood is caked, dry, so maybe three hours? Four? Five?" 

Silence. 

"Maybe we should finish this tomorrow," Junjie says hastily. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Wait—" 

Junjie is already gone. 

I can't believe it, Junjie thinks darkly, as his mind darts back to the note. Jared's been keeping evidence from me. . .