Eric Harris snapped back to his senses and realized he had talked too much with him. He pushed open the car door, about to leave, but suddenly remembered something, turned back and asked, “Have you eaten? Go upstairs and wait a bit, I’ll make you a bowl of wontons.”

Edward Bennett was clearly taken aback, his gaze flickering for a moment: “You’re inviting me to your place? Aren’t you afraid things are moving too fast?”

Although his words were ambiguous, he remained seated in the car, unmoving.

“If you don’t want to come, just say so. It’s not like you’re desperate for a meal anyway.” Eric Harris gripped the car door, bent down slightly, “Give me your hand.”

Edward Bennett, puzzled, extended his hand. Eric Harris pulled out a handful of things and stuffed them into his palm: “If you want to dive into the ocean, the best way is to change into your swimsuit and swim a few laps yourself, not cling to a life buoy and just dip your feet in from the side—you don’t really want to ‘turn’ me, so stop messing around. I’m heading home, you drive safe.”

Edward Bennett silently watched him walk into the somewhat old apartment building, then looked down at what Eric Harris had given him. It was the card he’d tucked in with the flowers that morning, still faintly scented with perfume, and a handful of milk candies.

The milk candies were from a pretty old brand, hadn’t been seen on the market for years. Edward Bennett had always thought the company had gone out of business, no idea where Eric Harris had found them...

Maybe they were just some leftover expired candies from before, anyway, they were loose and there was no production date visible.

Edward Bennett unwrapped one and ate it—cheap stuff from the old days, rough texture, sticky to the teeth, but at least sweet enough.

He turned on the stereo, put on that song Eric Harris always frowned at, and set it to loop endlessly, sitting quietly for a while.

Not until he’d finished all the candies did he get up and move to the driver’s seat. As soon as he shifted, he noticed there was still a photo left in the car.

It was a very small ID photo, which had fallen into the seat crevice and hadn’t been noticed while tidying up.

Edward Bennett turned on the car’s interior light and picked up the ID photo belonging to the deceased. Unlike the corpse’s ghastly face from earlier, this time, he could clearly see what the deceased looked like.

Edward Bennett stared at the crescent-shaped scar on the young man’s temple in the photo, slowly furrowing his brow.

Chapter 6: Julien Five

Early the next morning, William Carter first returned to the city bureau, chatted with Director Clark for a while, and then headed to the Huashi District sub-bureau with Eric Harris. As soon as they parked, Samuel Reed, who had arrived first, came out to greet them.

Samuel Reed handed over two cups of coffee and whispered, “What took you so long? They’ve detained Kevin Parker, identified him as a major suspect. He was thrown into a police car and brought in first thing this morning. The online media’s cars followed all the way, only just got dispersed.”

Eric Harris immediately grew anxious: “What!”

William Carter reached out and pressed his shoulder: “Was he detained according to procedure?”

Samuel Reed sighed, barely audibly: “Captain Carter, that old fox Matthew Miller is watching, there’s no way they’d make such a mistake.”

William Carter asked in a low voice, “What’s the evidence?”

“It’s the phone,” Samuel Reed said quickly. “This whole thing is really odd. The deceased Stephen Wright’s phone was with his roommate Kevin Parker—the official story is, last night, the officer in charge of the case at the sub-bureau got a tip-off, saying they saw Kevin Parker with a new phone that looked like the one Stephen Wright lost. The sub-bureau immediately sent officers to question Kevin Parker, found the phone, and even found both Kevin Parker’s and the victim’s fingerprints on it.”

William Carter frowned.

Eric Harris pressed for details: “Who reported it? How did the informant know Kevin Parker had Stephen Wright’s phone?”

“Supposedly, the phone is a brand-new model, and it’s an expensive brand, not many people around here use it. Stephen Wright’s was apparently a gift from a relative, and when he first got it, everyone saw it and remembered it well.”

“Who reported it and why doesn’t really matter. Even if Matthew Miller and his people barged in and found it by force, they could always make up a fake informant afterward,” William Carter waved his hand. “The key is the phone itself. Just having the victim’s phone doesn’t mean Kevin Parker is the killer. That’s not solid evidence—did Kevin Parker say anything he shouldn’t have? Was there any coercion or forced confession?”

“You guessed it,” Samuel Reed glanced around furtively, making sure no one was nearby before continuing, “There probably wasn’t any forced confession. The kid lied about his age to start working early. I checked last night—his ID was altered, he’s just over sixteen now. Probably got scared and confessed to everything. When they asked where the phone came from, he hesitated for a bit and then said he found it.”

“And he found it at the crime scene,” William Carter shook his head. “Did they ask him when he found it? Did he also say it was around a quarter past nine, when he heard arguing and went downstairs to check?”

Samuel Reed spread his hands.

With other witnesses confirming the time and place, he claimed he went to the crime scene during the incident and ‘found’ a phone.

Who’s the killer?

I didn’t see.

William Carter was speechless, rubbing his chin hard: “I haven’t seen such an honest ‘killer’ in years.”

Samuel Reed hadn’t had time to reply when he saw Matthew Miller striding over energetically: “I was at a regional security meeting yesterday and missed a bit. So, I just got back and heard the suspect’s already been caught? The city bureau’s young leaders are really dedicated—look at that efficiency!”