The moment they arrived at the location where Matthew Reynolds' body had been discovered, both of them immediately shifted into work mode.
No more songs.
No more casual conversations.
Only evidence.
Only answers.
Aurelia looked around the deserted roadside, her gaze sweeping across the grass, the muddy edges near the water, and the slope where the car had reportedly crashed.
"Do you really think we'll find something here?" she asked, doubt evident in her voice.
Vincent adjusted his coat before stepping forward.
"Maybe."
"That's not very convincing."
"It wasn't supposed to be."
Aurelia rolled her eyes.
Vincent continued walking.
"If we find nothing, we'll move to the CCTV facility nearby. Every investigation starts with possibilities, not guarantees."
"Fair enough."
The two began searching separately.
Every inch mattered.
The grass.
The soil.
The water's edge.
Even discarded trash was examined.
Twenty minutes passed.
Nothing.
Thirty minutes.
Still nothing.
Aurelia let out a frustrated sigh.
"If criminals were considerate enough to leave evidence lying around, your job would be much easier."
"My job would also be significantly less interesting."
She was about to reply when something near the grass caught her attention.
A small metallic reflection.
Her eyes narrowed.
Immediately crouching down, she carefully moved aside a few blades of grass using her handkerchief.
There it was.
A ring.
Not flashy.
Not expensive.
Just a simple silver ring.
Yet somehow, it looked strangely out of place.
"Sir."
Vincent turned.
"Look what I found."
Within seconds he was standing beside her.
The ring rested carefully on the handkerchief.
He studied it.
"No gemstones."
"No engraving visible either."
"Looks ordinary."
"Exactly."
Aurelia frowned.
"And ordinary things are usually overlooked."
A small smile appeared on Vincent's face.
"Good observation."
Aurelia carefully sealed the ring inside an evidence bag.
"We should send it for forensic examination."
"We should first confirm whether it belonged to Matthew."
"True."
If it belonged to Matthew, it was useless.
If it didn't...
That was a completely different story.
With nothing else turning up at the scene, they returned to the car and headed toward the CCTV monitoring facility located nearby.
Ten minutes later, they arrived.
As Aurelia reached for the handle, the car door suddenly opened from outside.
She blinked.
Vincent stood there casually.
"Sir, you didn't have to do that."
"What?"
"The door."
"I know."
Aurelia stared.
Vincent stared back.
"I wanted to."
"..."
"..."
"Okay."
There was absolutely no winning against that logic.
After identifying themselves and explaining the case, they were finally granted access to the CCTV recordings covering the road where Matthew's accident had occurred.
The footage began playing.
Aurelia immediately leaned forward.
Every ounce of her attention focused on the screen.
The room disappeared.
The people disappeared.
Everything disappeared except the footage.
Vincent watched as she paused, rewound, replayed, and zoomed in wherever possible.
Her concentration was almost frightening.
For a brief second, his attention shifted from the footage to her.
Then remained there slightly longer than it should have.
He quickly forced his eyes back toward the screen.
Unfortunately for him, his self-control had been performing poorly lately.
"Officer, can you rewind that section?" Aurelia suddenly asked.
The footage rolled back.
Again.
And again.
The room fell silent.
Then Aurelia pointed at the screen.
"There."
Vincent narrowed his eyes.
"What do you see?"
"The steering wheel."
"What about it?"
"He was still trying to control the car."
The officer looked confused.
"So?"
Aurelia leaned closer.
"Look carefully."
The footage played once more.
This time everyone noticed it.
Matthew's movements looked delayed.
Sluggish.
Uncoordinated.
As if his body was responding slower than his mind.
Vincent immediately understood.
"The poison."
Aurelia nodded.
"My assumption was correct."
She pointed toward the screen again.
"If the brakes alone failed, his reactions would still be normal."
The footage continued.
"But look at him."
Matthew was struggling.
Not just with the car.
With himself.
"He wasn't losing control of the vehicle first."
Aurelia's voice became firm.
"He was losing control of his body."
The room fell silent.
For the first time, the accident looked less like an accident.
And more like a murder.
Vincent immediately requested a copy of the footage.
As they walked back toward the car, he couldn't help himself.
"Very good."
Aurelia smiled proudly.
"Thank you."
Then, under his breath, so quietly that only he could hear it—
"Very good, Vale."
The drive back felt lighter.
Not because the case was solved.
Far from it.
But because they finally had something.
A direction.
A pattern.
Evidence that supported their theory.
As the city lights appeared ahead, Vincent glanced at the time.
"It's getting late."
"It is."
"I'll have the driver drop you home first."
"Thank you, sir."
A few minutes passed in comfortable silence before Vincent spoke again.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"This might sound offensive."
Aurelia laughed.
"That introduction already sounds offensive."
Vincent shook his head.
"How do you not have an Italian accent?"
"The stereotypical one?"
He looked slightly embarrassed.
"I didn't mean it like that."
"You absolutely did."
A laugh escaped her.
Then she shrugged.
"I used to have one."
"Really?"
"Very strong."
"What happened?"
"Law school happened."
Vincent listened carefully.
"I was heavily bullied because of it."
His expression immediately changed.
"Bullied?"
"Only for a week."
"Only?"
Aurelia grinned.
"Then I snapped."
Vincent already knew this story would end badly for someone.
"What exactly did you do?"
"Let's just say my Taekwondo training became educational."
Vincent sighed.
"For them?"
"For me too."
"And the result?"
"The leader spent four days in a hospital."
The driver nearly choked.
Vincent slowly turned toward her.
"You know, I really should have expected that answer."
"I take that as a compliment."
"You should."
Their laughter faded as the car finally stopped outside her house.
"Good night, sir."
"Good night, Aurelia."
She stepped out and disappeared inside.
For some reason, Vincent waited until the front door closed before asking the driver to leave.
An hour later, Aurelia's phone buzzed.
A message.
From Vincent.
Vincent:
The ring isn't Matthew's.
Sending it to the forensic department tomorrow morning.
Aurelia stared at the screen.
If the ring wasn't Matthew's...
Then whose was it?
For the first time since finding it, a new possibility entered her mind.
What if the ring didn't belong to the victim?
What if it belonged to the killer?