A cold case

-Central Metropolitan Police Station-

In the afternoon, August 7, 20XX

Reporter- "According to the police, there is no footage of the killer who killed Politician Kiley inside a private museum. She was visiting her old friend, Mr. Bradley who is the owner of the famous painting " The Essence of Flower Blooming". She has been trying to make a deal with her best friend, but her best friend didn't seem to be pleased with her offer... "

In a dimly lit office room, the air became heavy with tension. The smell of cigarettes is everywhere, its smoke gathering in the corner of the walls, around the Air compressor. A row of stern-faced police officers, their suits crisply tailored and badges glinting in the soft overhead light sits around a long, wooden conference table. The room is small but soundproof, having thousands of secrets of the City of least criminal activity that will never be found by the public.

Each officer leans forward sternly, their foreheads creasing with worry, huddling in high-backed leather chairs. The old table is tired of bearing the weight of confidential files, a few mugs of untouched coffee which steams have long disappeared into the foggy air, and a stack of unopened envelopes with dust on them. They are yet to get the attention of those middle-aged police officers.

A sense of urgency and not understanding what will happen next spread through the room, distinctively visible in the way the officers fidget with their ties or keep rapping their fingers on the edge of the table.

Their tired eyes which have adopted big dark circles and moles over their face after spending nights without any sleep, watched the news on the Television.

"Fuck this! What are you doing? How come those petty Media are trying to get on my nerves?"

A towering frame trembles with restrained anger as he unleashes a thunderous roar, echoing off the worn walls. The remote which is wrapped with multiple layers of plastic wrap, finds its usefulness after ten minutes of being used by another team of officers.

He shut the TV, disappointed in himself that he couldn't grab the media to choke them to death.

” We are trying our best. But the media is getting all the information from nowhere. Someone is leaking the information about this Case” The officers tried their best to explain

" How come the information is getting leaked if the police are keeping it confidential? Go and ask them what the hell they are doing. What a headache!"

He seethed with frustration and irritation at the relentless media scrutiny, his breath coming out in furious, hot bursts.

Their attempts to clarify their limitations in controlling the media are met with frustration and exasperation. Media operate themselves independently and they have limited access to control everything. On top of everything, covering a politician's murder case is undeniably impossible.

However! Information leaking? That was the worst joke.

" I want you all to announce it as a cold case. And leave it for the after-election case. If we can't find out who is the killer. I won't be able to attend the hearing for my nomination."

Jonathan Patrick, the current commissioner of Vittle City, has decided to throw his hat into the political ring after being a loyal dog of lots of higher-ups. He's set to make a bold move by nominating himself as the next congressman candidate for the upcoming election.

However, The mysterious death of politician Kiley cast a shadow of uncertainty over his journey to secure a nomination for his congressional candidacy. The circumstances surrounding Kiley's death have ignited a storm of speculation and controversy, creating a significant obstacle for Patrick, and forcing the public to question the ability to control the criminals.

But, the police, facing the enigmatic circumstances of Kiley's death, found themselves unable to label it as a cold case immediately. Instead, after facing unstoppable questions from the public and the Media about their favorite Politician's death, the police meticulously took ten days before announcing the case as a cold case, including it being the unsolvable serial killer case.

Ten days later...

Afternoon 4, Friday, 17 August, 20XX...

Live News, JKTV...

" So police announced that the case of Politician Kiley is one of those cold cases. According to the police statement, they found the same signs as the previous serial killing case where the culprit is still roaming around among us. So, the serial murder case from two years ago is yet to be solved. However, as a new unsolved case, we found ourselves losing our best politician who worked against corruption and the black market. Our condolences to her and her family. Hope, our security system and police administration will improve themselves to save more lives who might become another prey of that dangerous, inhumane serial killer... This is Today's Live News, JKTV! Have a good day!"

She heaves a heavy sigh with a mix of relief and exhaustion, as she carefully sets her microphone aside. With deliberate steps, she makes her way through the bustling newsroom of JKTV.

The crew members keep darting back and forth, frantically preparing for the next anchor's segment, each with a sense of urgency in their movements.

" You did well, Ms. Juliette. You look so confident and cool!" Her secretary, Naila praised her as she handed her steamy hot coffee. A warm smile spreads on her face with appreciation. Her love for journalism and people's care for her, make her life worthy to live on and move forward.

" Don't flatter me. You always use the same words!" She scoffs sipping her coffee.

Juliette, the renowned anchor, is celebrated not only for her journalism skills but also for her captivating presence. Her grace and beauty enhance her professionalism.

When she appears on screen in her elegant black dress, it makes her more stunning and captivating to her audience, adding more plus points to her excellent skills. At the age of 25, she is one of the highest-paid anchors in JKTV. And, she has the highest followers on her social media among all the journalists.

" Because I don't know what I should say more. You are cool. And I am proud of you!" Naira blushes, admiring her Boss's confidence and look.

" OK. OK. Did you get any call during the live?" she asked placing the coffee on the table and holding her phone. Her eyes speak the truth of her expecting some calls from someone particular.

" It was from Mr. Prosecutor. I couldn't receive the call."

Her eyes immediately widen as she notices the caller ID, registered as "Mr. Prosecutor." The fact that he had called her five times but she couldn't receive a single call raised her concern and apprehension. Her nail reaches between her sharp white teeth being crashed as she is upset that she won't be able to talk to that mysterious Prosecutor.

" Damn. I was wondering when he would call me. But he called me five times. How unlucky I am!" Frustration course through her as a low growl escapes from her. Tears are gathering around her big Almond eyes with irritation.

Naira looked at her with concern and said, " You can call him again!"

" Do you think he will pick up? He doesn't like when people call him without any reason!" She groaned frustratedly.

" Who is the prosecutor? You become red by just looking at his phone number!"

" A devil!"

****

In the meantime...

" Have Mercy. I swear. I won't ask for money from that couple. I will stop working as a loan shark as well!"

The Boss of the Loan shark agency, felt his back hitting the floor with a loud sound as the person in front of him threw him without showing any mercy. His eyes are already on him, tearing him with his death glare.

" Next time, I will break your all bones and then send you behind the bar for ten years. Don't even dare to show your face in front of that old couple!"

He raises his leg to kick him once again but the wounded loan shark has become a tiny pussycat who grabbed his leg.

" I won't. I won't. I swear. I will be a good person!"

" You better be!"

The leader of the loan shark group groaned in agony as he reluctantly released his legs and stretched out, lying flat on his back. The pain is excruciating; he suspects that two or three ribs might be broken. His bleeding eyes go to the tall frame who is watching his situation satisfyingly. There is no remorse in the eyes of the person who is responsible for this inhumane, standing resolute and unapologetic.

" How did I encounter this devil? Mommy! My bones are making melody just by crushing with each other!"

He sobbed pathetically. He watched his death welcoming him from far away today.

The 6'3" tall figure walks out of the old construction area which has been closed for the last five years. So, it became a prime territory for Loan sharks and drug smugglers. Recently, he has been handling illegal drug smuggling cases and found out about this place.

" Boss."

Asher Sebastian, 27 years old, a prosecutor, stopped opening the door of the car when his assistant rushed towards him from his car.

His thick eyebrows raise. and confusion shrouds his face when he notices his assistant there where he is supposed not to be.

" Why are you here? Carl!"

He asked closing the door and leaning against the car.

" Your phone is switched off. And I couldn't reach you anyhow. So I had to come here."

Carl, 26, his assistant, walks towards him, breathing heavily. The cold sweat on his forehead is evidence of his search for his boss in this unending maze of old buildings.

But his eyes shrink with terror, not being able to get used to the looks of his Boss, Asher Sebastian.

With his precisely groomed beard, piercing dark brown eyes, thick, expressive eyebrows, the sharp jawlines that meet the desirable shape any man wants to have, his tanned skin makes a gorgeous combination with his diamond-shaped face.

This appearance which has an uncanny ability to captivate and draw people in, is standing before Carl in a total mess.

His well-tailored tuxedo is strained with fresh blood. Lots of small cuts adorn his handsome face. The sleeves that he pulled up to his elbow, are leaking blood. Possibly, he is stabbed by something sharp. A few droplets of blood have strained his glasses as well which are hanging there in the middle of his nose bridge.

" Why so urgent?" He asked with a tone that betrayed no hint of pain. His strong appearance has covered the truth before his assistant.

" Someone higher-up wants to meet you. It's urgent!"

Defeated by the strong appearance of his Boss, And knowing that his concern won't change the madness of the Boss, he replies, heaving a heavy sigh.

" Me? I don't think I did something wrong to meet them. That's troublesome!"

His assistant's eyes rolled up when he said. Everyone in the prosecution department knows how troublesome Prosecutor Asher can be. Not only he doesn't follow the law most of the time. But also he creates all kinds of trouble for prosecution. Such as assaulting the defendant, invading anyone's personal place without any warrant, and beating the criminals around. And he is quite confident and cool about his actions.

" Who is this? This time! I have to deal with some drug dealers this afternoon!" He asks his assistant, his voice echoes the rush of leaving.

" It's the daughter of Politician Kiley! She wants to talk about her mother's case," he informed...

" Politician Kiley's murder case? This case has already been announced as a cold case. What does she want to know?"

His eyebrows furrow, knitting together. Why would the daughter of a politician search for him?

" Why not ask her directly? You should meet her. That poor lady came back from abroad just to learn about her Mom's death precisely!"

Changing his serious expression into a pitiful one, Carl said to get his mad Boss.

" OK. Whatever. Send me the location. I will meet her right now"

Swinging open the door of the car, he slides himself into the passenger seat and speaks.

" Already sent. Just turn your phone on. For god damn sake!" Frustration has crossed its limit as Carl speaks.

" You are going to face punishment for your language, Carl! Have a good day!" He said pushing his eyewear on the middle of his nose bridge.

A sluggish grin illuminated his face. Not quite interested in some cold cases. But he can't stop helping others too.

Additionally, his thirst for handcuffing some specific politicians who have been playing around but police or prosecution are serving them evening tea, has gotten stronger. He wants to put some poison in that freshly brewed tea.