“....”

  “....”

  “....”

  “....”

  All four key investigators brought their discovery back to the forensic lab. There really was no better place to safe guard this valuable item they have uncovered in the relics of a murder.

  It sat on the table, sealed in a transparent evidence bag, and just...staring at them with many coloured eyes.

  Detective Fraulein couldn’t let go of her mouth, “This...is the murder weapon?”

  Professor Stone couldn’t stop rubbing the top of his bald head, “Matches the wounds on the victim.”

  Officer Roland couldn’t stop scratching at his hairline, “This...has been sitting in front of our eyes? The whole time?”

  The murder weapon was in the form of a curved dagger. Specifically, an Arabic style weapon with an exotic grip made of (fake) gold and encrusted with exotic (glass) gemstones of red, blue, and green colours.

  It was like it leapt out of the screen of a fantasy film. Or rather, hanging on a display rack in the manor.

  By the naked eye, the curved metal blade looked clean and pristine. But under a partial spotlight of U.V. light everyone could see it was covered in thick greases of glowing residue.

  Blood.

  It was here, Martial Kim couldn’t stop staring at this weapon.

  “As I mentioned to Teacher, the victim was stabbed 108 times. The shape, depth, and angles of the wound would match this very blade before you.”

  “And Fraulein, I just got results from a rapid blood test. The blood stains matches the victim.”

  “Stone. When this is all over, I am going to block you... And I just can’t believe we’ve been walking around this the whole time!”

  “Sir, Ma’am. There was no away anyone would suspect a prop weapon on display would be the murder weapon. Whoever this killer is, seem to have calculated this from the beginning. It’s...it’s just too perfect!”

  Everyone had a lot of theories and thoughts. Most of them would either overlap or clash, especially when everyone was running on half tank well in the night. To make sure everyone’s voice was properly heard, Detective Fraulein shut them up with a slap of her hand to the table.

  “Okay, if Kung-Fu Boy and Stone are right, the victim wasn’t stabbed 20 times by a kitchen knife – but 108 times with this weird dagger prop. Along with the fact the main fight took place in the lobby, near the where the prop display would be, it is likely to suggest this murder was heat of the moment. In a big fight, the killer grabbed whatever to do the deed. Panicked, wiped off the blood and put the blade back where it was before leaving a mess to throw off our tracks.”

  Everyone shared a nod and—

  “And—Wait-wait-wait... How did you guys know, it was 108 stabs? So precisely?”

  Uh oh.

  “Where’s the updated autopsy report? Why didn’t I get a copy? Officer Roland? Stone? Odd, why wouldn’t the coroner tell me about this new correction? They’re usually keen on........”

  Hey, hey. Have you ever wondered, what would happen if you flip off a lion in a zoo? They’d probably leap across the table to rip your jugular out of your throat, right?

  That’s exactly what Detective Fraulein did.

  “STONE! I WILL GOD DAMN MURDER YOU!”

  “PARLAY! PARLAY!”

  Martial Kim used his peerless martial arts to break up the fight between two pumas. After a light scolding and reminding how they are role models of society, he was rewarded a:

  “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, KUNG-FU BOY!”

  “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, KIM!”

  --- They’re both out of line...but they’re right.

  “Ahem. Detective, Teacher. Might I suggest we invest the remaining energy into this case? The sooner we find the true killer of the Director’s murder, the earlier we can release Keekee from custody.”

  “Damn it! It’s not that simple Kung-Fu Boy! Even if it was an entirely different person, the fact still remains the same: Keekee was there!”

  “Ma’am has a point,” Officer Roland tried to mellow out the tension between the parties, “if you don’t mind me saying. She could have been involved, perhaps an accomplice or just so happen to be there at the wrong time. Maybe, she joined in on the stabbing to get her hate out. Otherwise, if she was innocent: why didn’t she call the police.”

  “Fraulein, Roland. Let me remind you both on Kim’s behalf: Keekee suffered an accident, near Deer Bridge. Perhaps, she witnessed something and tried to run away from the killer. She was trying to cont.......”

  Cont? Cont what? To be continued?

  Prof. Stone hesitated, “Keekee was trying to contact Kim. She kept calling until she got hit by the car and was rendered unconscious... If she was innocent, she may have been calling for help.”

  The young master felt his organ fall out of his body, period.

  Detective Fraulein wanted to hiss but, she lacked the heart to. “Don’t hate me for this, but what if Keekee was calling Kim for a different kind of help. She murdered the Director, could have probably been thinking of using her boyfriend – who just so happens to work in forensics – for help. Like, come on you guys, we’ve seen this before! And Stone, don’t give me that look – you would say the exact same thing if it were someone else.”

  The young master felt his fallen organs immolated themselves down to the last ash, period.

  Officer Roland stuttered, trying to find a common ground, “Th-the, uh, murder weapon. The blade was wiped down, hiding the blood stains, b-but we still got finger prints on it right? See! The U.V. light is showing some of them on the handle.”

  The point alone allowed a temporary cease fire between the detective and the forensic chemist.

  “The print look smudged,” Prof. Stone eyed the weapon. “Maybe they were smeared a bit, when the killer used a cloth or something to wash off the blood...But.”

  “Why are the prints left there?” Detective Fraulein tilted her head. “Why not just wipe them off the handle entirely?”

  Martial Kim chipped in, “It’s not possible. Look at how uneven the hilt is. With all that engravings and gemstones jutting out, it would be like a horse wagon racing over a pit trap – a single swipe would miss them.”

  Officer Roland nodded, getting the idea, more or less. “And if the killer was in a hurry, they’ll think they removed their prints entirely.”

  Everyone shared a nod. It seems, they were getting closer and closer to the truth. And all of it came down to one more factor.

  Who did the finger prints belong to?

  They only had to wait an hour or two, before the results came in a form of a phone call.

  When Prof. Stone answered it, he had mixed feelings about what he was told. A roller coaster of high hope and low disappointment, to high hopes once more. Before it the emotions dipped back down, he thanks the person on the line and ended the call.

  “That was Yvonne,” The forensic chemist kept his voice as steady as possible, “We got a match, for both finger prints.”

  Oh? What a twist? Two successes in such a short time?...Unless.

  “The first one, belongs to the victim. Which, makes sense. The Director owns the dagger, right? It be obvious it would have his prints on some places, from maintaining it, putting it on the wall rack, or even just wielding it and pretend he was the hero of his own movie...”

  Detective Fraulein sucked in the air. In fact she was chewing her nails at this point – a habit she thought that died back in her childhood. “And the second? Criminal record?”

  “...Kinda.”

  “Oh my god...It’s Keekee, isn’t it—No. Don’t say it, for Pete’s sake!”

  A nod from the forensic chemist was the worst outcome at a time like this. Even Martial Kim felt his empty insides just clawing itself up, crawling with ants of denial and...

  “Wait, Teacher. What were the positions of Keekee’s finger prints?”

  “Hah. I kinda had a feeling you’d ask that, my dear padawan. Based on the positions of the prints, it seemed the last time she came into contact with this dagger was holding it like this. Thumb and blade pointed in the same direction. Like a sword.”

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Officer Roland mimicked the posture with his hand, as if grabbing a knife in the air himself. “108 stabs? A prison style shank?”

  When Martial Kim raised an eyebrow, Officer Roland demonstrated to him. He would grab – gently – onto the young master, yank him close into a half hug, and STARTED STABBING!...Or mimic stabbing with a whiteboard marker.

  “Underhanded stabbings,” Martial Kim hummed, with a dash of skepticism in his tone. “By my calculations, the angle were all over handed, above the shoulder with the blade down.”

  “What do you know, Kung-Fu Boy?” Detective Fraulein snapped. “You’re not even a coroner. And I don’t know why the hell Stone thought it was a good idea to let you get close to the body.”

  “Angle of entry means everything, Miss Detective. Surely you can see that.”

  “Yeah, I’m not an idiot. But Keekee’s finger prints are right side up, not upside down.”

  “Think about it. Underhanded is most effective if the victim is standing up. Surely after 10 fatal stabbings, the victim would lose strength in their legs and collapse on their back. So, how would Keekee continue stabbing a man on the floor underhanded. Given their position, she would be next to lying on top of the victim.”

  He let everyone get the image in their head, before adding, “And Teacher confirmed, the victim died face up. Would it not be more effective, to murder him with an overhanded and over the shoulder strike? That way, it be more...well, lack of a better word: comfortable to kill him.”

  For a second, Prof. Stone thought he saw the flash of a nuclear bomb when the young master and detective made eye contract. Feeling a storm brewing, he had no choice but to throw his entire body into the heart of the storm to snuff it out.

  “Alright! Stop! Both of you! We’re all trying to help with the case. Some of us for Keekee’s benefit, some of us to find the truth. There’s no need to bare fangs or point your guns at each other’s throats! So...Take five... N-no, Kim! Not grab a number! It means let’s have a 5 minute break!”

  5 minutes became 15. 15 turned to 30. 30 to 55.

  Until they just called it a day and decided to go their separate ways. Fortunately, they weren’t disbanding the team. No no. They were disbanding their bodies so they could get some shut eye.

  Prof. Stone thought the nuclear storm blew over...but he failed to predict the collateral damage when it was all over.

  “...Kim. It’s okay to cry. My car doesn’t have a camera.”

  “I’m fine, Teacher.”

  There was a saying: heroes may bleed but they should never cry. If a warrior were to cry at a drop of a hat over the little of things, who could take them seriously? How were they expected to protect their loved ones from villains and rivalling masters?

  They should always keep those vulnerable emotions deep under their sleeves.

  For Martial Kim, however. He felt like he bleed himself drying...soon, he may be bleeding tears at this point.

  “I just don’t understand it,” He murmured in his seat in the car, head lifelessly banging against the window. “Keekee isn’t a fighter, neither a killer. She wouldn’t do such a thing.”

  “Yet,” Prof. Stone sighed as he gently turned the wheel, “You’re still thinking: why are her finger prints on the murder weapon?”

  “This paradox, is too vexing.”

  “You and me both.”

  Prof. Stone didn’t know what better to say at this point. He could provide over one hundred hypotheses, what ifs, and could be’s...but the truth still remained no matter how much he would dissolve or burn it away. Which, left more scars in both of their hearts than he had imagined.

  So, wouldn’t it be a great idea to find something soft and warm to cheer themselves up.

  “Here you go, Kim. Your favourite: Burger.”

  “...Wh-what? Teacher? I don’t recall you ever leaving the car. Where did you get food all of a sudden? A-and it’s piping hot! Oh! Ow!”

  “Magic.”

  Prof. Stone lied. He slipped into a fast food drive way while Martial Kim was in his depressed stupor. It was only did he hand him the hot food that brought the young master back to life.

  ...Might as well make the best of the low mood.

  “What Kim? I thought you love burgers. Why are you staring as if you’re about to eat a ghost?”

  “...Keekee.”

  “She’ll be fine. We have until tomorrow to worry about the case and then—”

  “When I first met Keekee, she gave me this. A hot burger.”

  Nostalgia drowned Martial Kim alive. He could feel his soul drop away from his body, from reality, and just descend down this rabbit hole of time and space. Fleeting all the way to the past, to the first day they met.

  There he was, the White Tiger of Moon Tavern stranded in a movie set of a strange new world. A throbbing hangover he suffered from the previous night, drinking that mysterious wine of all time. Surrounded by a cacophony of foreign people, new technology, if not clashing cultures. Not a familiar face to ease his confusion and distress.

  Dying of thirst...until Keekee came to bring him a slither of salvation.

  The young master never knew, a water bottle could taste so sweet and heartwarming. He truly believed Keekee had some magical powers. Even her presence, although clumsy and awkward, somehow cast a blanket of ease and solace over him.

  And the burger she offered. The first meal he ever had in this world. Strange, delightful, tangy. Even now he still remember every ingredient that was rolling about in his mouth.

  That bittersweet taste of kindness.

  Sigh. Martial Kim started to bleed.

  “What’s wrong Kim? Did a lettuce get in your eye?”

  “I-I’m fine, Teacher. It’s the onions, I swear.”

  “Here, take the whole tissue box.”

  “I-I said I’m fine...”

  “You know...I don’t mean to state the obvious but... Keekee’s really changed you.”

  “H-how do you mean?”

  Prof. Stone took a bite of his meal as he tried to put his words together, “When I first met you in the cell: you were cultured, really intelligent, sharp eyed like you’ve seen the world, and an incarnation of what a true gentleman should be in a brutish modern world...

  Martial Kim couldn’t help a faint smile and nodded along, “I am after all a Knight-Errant of—“

  “Now? Hah!” The mentor scoffed into a whine, “After dating with Keekee so long: you’ve become messy, forgetful, clueless, and you’ve been showing all of your terrible sides. You gained a temper worse than Fraulein and let’s not forget how your deductive ego grew three times bigger than your head!”

  “.............................................................................”

  “And the main take away is, you became lazy. You stopped calling Keekee ‘Miss’.”

  “What!? Absurd! When have I referred to Keekee like that?”

  “You tell me, boyo.”

  “Impossible. I have the utmost respect for Keekee. I would never address her so callously and..........”

  The young master wouldn’t say it, neither would he think about it as it was rather vulgar. His initial reaction would be on the same line of thought as ‘Son of a bitch, he’s right’.

  “Dear gods.” Martial Kim choked on his own voice, “W-what have I become?”

  Prof. Stone tried not to laugh, else he’d gag on his burger, “A monster. One that Keekee is head over heels for.”

  --- Th-this can’t be happening. All my years of upholding virtue, maintaining etiquette, and refining myself with the way of a scholarly gentlemen...Just like that, all crumpling down like a brick wall!? It can’t be! H-have I really changed for the worse!?

  “I just don’t understand it,” Prof. Stone went on in a rant, the only time he could ever do so anyhow. “Even when you’ve transformed into an uncultured beast, Keekee wouldn’t give up on you. And when Keekee is branded as a brutal killer, you wouldn’t turn her back on the girl. I can’t tell if you’re a match made in heaven, or this is a cruel joke worse than Romeo and Juliet.”

  Martial Kim had no clue what the reference meant...but he felt he got the gist of it. And it made his stomach – nay, his inner organs just plummet into an abyss. Zero safety net, zero safety line. Good luck don’t die, type of feeling.

  “Love can work in mysterious ways, don’t you agree Kim?”

  “...I wouldn’t know. I’ve become uncultured, as you’ve said. Perhaps, I no longer remember who Confucius is.”

  “Oh come now, save your sarcasm after you visit Keekee.”

  “I-I’ll have you know that...W-where are we going again?”

  “You heard me, padawan. Now hold onto your seat belt, we’re going into hyperdrive!”

  Martial Kim didn’t exactly knew what Christmas was, not yet. But somehow he had the same emotions as a child on Christmas Day. Excitement for what he will get as a present...or in this case, visiting a friend.

  “Teacher, I thought you said I can’t visit Keekee. Given the fact I am neither her immediate kin or her...sp...spoo...spou....se...”

  “On the record, yeah. We stick to procedure. But if we keep this off the record, then that changes the legality of it all. So for the sake of convenience – we were never here. Do you get me?”

  The young master couldn’t stop nodding like a monkey. He knew it’s only been what, half a day since he separated from Keekee. Yet, he had this incredible sense of joy and anticipation as he followed his mentor to where his friend was located. It was like, the young master had a newfound spring in his steps.

  That same moment when a dog hears the keys of their owner in the doorway. Oh boy oh boy oh boy, they’re back to play! Woof! Woof!

  “What did you say Kim?”

  “Uh? Erh. I-I didn’t say anything...I think.”

  Prof. Stone shrugged and he checked the map of the hospital to confirm the location of the prison ward. Once he located it with a tap of his fingers, he went off to-- “OOF!”

  “Teacher! Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Is the guy I ran into alright. Didn’t mean to....Hey...I know him.”

  “Wh-who? That man in the uniform?”

  “N-no. That’s security. I’m talking about the guy I ran into, walking up to the front counter.”

  “Ah. Friend of yours, I presume?”

  “He’s the man who hit Keekee with his taxi—KIM NO! STOP!”

  Like a flip of a switch, the excited puppy inside of Martial Kim transformed into a maniac werewolf. In a blink, the young master had the Taxi Driver pinned against the counter. Rage burning in his eyes, fangs bared and ready to rip out more than an aorta!

  “How DARE you!” Martial Kim howled. “How dare you do this to Keekee! Do you know how much pain she’s in!? She still hasn’t waken up, because of you! Why!? Why did you do this to her!? Tell me! What was your intent in hitting her with your wagon!”

  “HOLD IT! KIM! DEAR GOD ALMIGHTY!” Prof. Stone lunged as hard as a bear could throw their body to tackle into his protege.

  He knew wrestling him was a lose-lose situation, but he had to try and calm him down! Fortunately the young master would never bring himself to harm his own master, but the forensic chemist was still fighting a bull ready to shank the matador with a horn.

  “KIM!” The forensic chemist pleaded, “Listen to me! It was an accident! He didn’t mean to! I read his statement from the police files! Everything was a pure accident! No ill intent at all!”

  “But Teacher! What of the justice to Keekee? She’s still in a coma, because of this villain!”

  “YES! It’s his fault, but he owned up to it and is guilty! But he didn’t commit a crime! Don’t hurt him!”

  The maniac werewolf truly wished to go on a killing spree with this Taxi Driver...but every pat on the back, call for calm, and internal guilt reduced that inner werewolf into a shameful caterpillar. All shrivelled up and hiding in a cocoon.

  Unable to handle the stress of this transformation, he just...punched at the front desk to vent his rage.

  Prof. Stone let out a sigh – because he thought HE was gonna get murdered, not just the Taxi Driver. Without further ado, he helped the poor man up and sat him down to calm him.

  “I, am so, so, so sorry about that. Please, don’t blame Kim. It’s...H-he is the boyfriend, of the girl you hit with your Taxi—N-no, no. No need to be ashamed or upset! We totally understand, it was an unforeseeable incident... Um...er.”

  Oh? Thought Prof. Stone was trying to resolve the conflict as quickly and as smoothly as possible. What more did he wanted to say? What made him so hesitant to speak about?

  “I am sorry to ask this, especially in this moment. About the accident... When did you hit Keekee with your Taxi? Do you recall what time? Exactly?”