Chapter 171: Julian Fletcher’s Chasing Wife Crematorium

Chapter 171: Chapter 171: Julian Fletcher’s Chasing Wife Crematorium

I stared at Zeke Shaw in astonishment.

"True. I’ve seen the scene. It looks like the killer might be deliberately imitating the serial killer, but we can’t completely rule it out yet," Zeke Shaw nodded.

"Quinn’s autopsy revealed the fatal wound was to the back of the head. Someone struck him from behind, causing his death. The technique was clean and efficient; they knew exactly where to hit for an instant kill," Lucas Grant said thoughtfully. "The victim was likely on the phone right before he died. There are marks on the ground from a dropped phone, but the killer took it. The original serial killer has a habit: when he kills, he never takes anything from the victim. It’s like he’s confident the police will never trace it back to him."

"So, you’re saying these are two different cases," I said softly.

The serial killings and this corpse case in Street Alley were not the same.

"What about the victim’s identity? Didn’t you say he used to be a psychiatrist? Was he connected to Cecilia Caldwell?" I asked Lucas Grant nervously.

"I looked into the victim. His name is Wayne Abbott. He was a psychiatrist who won several awards in the field years ago. At the hospital, he was always on par with Victor Quinn, but back then, the hospital director clearly favored Wayne Abbott because he was better with people," Zeke Shaw spoke up first.

As soon as Zeke Shaw heard there was a murder in Street Alley, he started investigating.

"But this man left that psychiatric hospital many years ago." Lucas Grant looked back at the old, sealed-off hospital grounds. "And I found out that after the director of this hospital was disciplined, he committed suicide in prison. Most of the doctors then transferred to the current Meridia Mental Health Sanatorium."

"When Wayne Abbott left, the psychiatric hospital hadn’t been shut down yet. I heard he went to Aeridor to start his own business in the clothing industry. He was making good money, wore designer brands, and had a watch worth over three million." Lucas Grant continued thoughtfully, "But I checked his company—it’s just a shell corporation. The so-called clothing business is just a front. What was he really doing to make money...?"

"Then investigate it. What are you doing just standing here guessing?" Zeke Shaw sounded annoyed with Lucas Grant.

’This is no time to be muttering to himself.’

BZZT! Lucas Grant’s phone vibrated on the hood of the car.

Lucas Grant shot Zeke Shaw a glare and answered the phone. "Captain Grant, the killer practically turned himself in! We checked the nearby surveillance footage and locked onto the suspect’s address: Number 37 Riverside Road, in the demolition zone."

I glanced at Zeke Shaw. Number 37 Riverside Road, the demolition zone... that was what people in Meridia called the last of the slums.

Ash’s sister, Peach, lived there. The place was indeed a chaotic mix of all sorts.

"I’m heading out on a mission. If Captain Lowell is so capable, he can investigate it himself." Still holding a grudge, Lucas Grant pushed Zeke Shaw aside, got in his car, and drove off.

Zeke Shaw frowned and looked at me. "Want to go take a look?"

I nodded.

’I hope this murder really isn’t connected to the serial killer.’

「 」

Riverside Road, Number 37.

The police had already zeroed in on a room on the third floor.

By the time Zeke Shaw and I arrived, they had already stormed in to make the arrest.

It was one of those tenement buildings with narrow gaps between the structures, rooms packed tightly side-by-side.

The suspect lived on the east side, while Ash’s sister lived on the west, directly across from him.

When I looked to the west, I saw Peach standing there, her clothes disheveled and her eyes vacant, watching the police make the arrest.

Suddenly, her gaze fell upon me. The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile.

That smile... was so unsettling it sent a chill down my spine.

"Murderer..." Peach suddenly raised her hand, pointed at me, and laughed like a fool.

Even though I couldn’t hear her clearly, I could read her lips. *Murderer*.

’She’s calling me a murderer? What does she mean...?’

"Look out! Get him!"

Suddenly, a commotion erupted from the east side of the third floor.

Zeke Shaw and I weren’t part of the tactical team, after all. We couldn’t go up, so we could only watch from downstairs, looking up.

Suddenly, a figure pushed through the crowd, climbed over the windowsill, and jumped without any hesitation.

THUD!

I screamed in fright and stumbled back a step.

Zeke Shaw quickly reached out to shield me, his eyes fixed on the person who had crashed to the ground in front of us.

The third floor wasn’t that high, but he had jumped with the intent to die.

It was a middle-aged man, his face weathered by hardship. His fingers were twisted, not from the fall, but as if from years of rheumatism and hard labor.

"Help... save..." The man on the ground coughed up blood, using all his strength to pull a photograph from his pocket.

The photo was stained with blood.

My breathing grew ragged as I looked at Zeke Shaw.

Zeke Shaw reached out and took it.

"Save my... daughter."

The police officers rushed downstairs, all of them panting as they stared at the suspect lying on the ground.

One by one, they started cursing in frustration.

"Ambulance! Get an ambulance!"

I looked at Zeke Shaw, feeling numb.

Zeke Shaw shook his head at me, used his phone to photograph the front and back of the picture, then handed it to Lucas Grant. "Are you sure he’s the killer?"

"We found the murder weapon in his room—a large sledgehammer. He was probably a manual laborer, a handyman on construction sites." Lucas Grant looked up at the third floor. "I heard his daughter went missing three years ago. He and his wife had been searching for her ever since. A few days ago, his wife committed suicide due to severe depression. You could say human traffickers completely destroyed his family..."

I stood frozen, a strange numbness creeping into my legs.

"His daughter... how old was she when she disappeared?" I asked in a small voice.

"Eighteen," Lucas Grant replied, his tone regretful.

I glanced at the photo in Lucas Grant’s hand. The girl in the picture was bright and youthful, with a clean-cut look that made you like her instantly.

"What a beautiful girl..." I murmured.

"She’s been missing for three years. I’ve heard of this case... The girl was abducted by human traffickers who used a car with fake plates. The case was never solved..." Zeke Shaw said helplessly. "A father pushed to the brink wouldn’t kill someone for no reason. He must have learned some truth, and the immense despair crushed him..."

"The two cases must be connected somehow. Could the victim be involved in the girl’s disappearance?" I asked.

Lucas Grant nodded. He suspected the same thing.

"There’s one more thing... How would a migrant worker who’s been searching for his daughter know to sprinkle spices on a corpse to attract dogs to eat it and destroy the evidence?" I couldn’t wrap my head around it. "If he needed to destroy the body and his method was so meticulous, why wouldn’t he have scouted the area beforehand to avoid such an obvious surveillance camera?"

’It just doesn’t add up.’

Lucas Grant glanced at me. "It’s obvious. He’s just another poor soul."

A pawn.

The real culprit is using people to commit murder.

But whether it’s connected to the serial killer case, no one knows for sure right now.

「 」

The ambulance took the man away, and Zeke Shaw drove me back.

On the way, Zeke Shaw received a call. The poor father was gone.

’When he handed the photo to me and Zeke, he must have been holding on to a tiny sliver of hope.’

’Hope that the police could help him find his daughter...’

"Someone is using these pitiful people. They’re innocent. This isn’t the M.O. of the serial killer. The two of them are more like polar opposites: one doesn’t kill innocents, and the other specifically uses innocents," I said, my head aching.

My intuition told me these two cases were absolutely not planned by the same person.

The car stopped at the gate of the Lancaster family’s villa.

As soon as I got out of the car, I saw Julian Fletcher’s haunting figure.

He looked very worried about me and rushed forward anxiously.

"Cece..."

His voice was a little hoarse, and his broken expression made it seem like he really did love me.

If Erin Whittaker wasn’t constantly glued to his side, I might have actually believed a leopard could change its spots.

"Cece... I got them. I got your parents’ social media accounts. They documented your whole childhood in their journals. Cece, believe me. Come home with me. Let that lunatic rot in the psychiatric hospital until he dies! I’ll protect you... I swore I’d protect you the year something happened to your parents." Julian Fletcher was desperate to make me believe him.

"Cece... I’m sorry. I really know I was wrong..." His fingers trembled slightly as he pulled me into his arms. "Cece, once you see them, you’ll understand. I’m the only one who truly loves you... Sebastian Lancaster, he’s a complete and utter madman."

I felt numb.

The Julian Fletcher of the past was selfish, conceited, possessive, and arrogant. Pride filled his soul, making him seem like someone lofty and untouchable. When I tried to get close to him, he pushed me away with his own hands, trampling me until I was covered in wounds that would never heal. ’And now... does he want to spend the rest of his life atoning for all these scars he gave me?’