Autopsy Of A Mind 8 Circumstantial Evidence

"First of all, never show pictures to suspects like that unless you are sure they have done it… or almost sure. Second. Ask questions first and then pull out your psychoa.n.a.lytical tools. All you've done is made me look at you like an incompetent fool."

Of course, he was offended. That's what I was aiming for. I knew well that the person he was training under was watching the scene unfold.

"And how did you know this much?" The sarcasm was obvious.

"By now you must have received your primary autopsy report and it has told you that this person has been dead for about a couple of days but that the weather could affect the time of death drastically. Yet you are asking me nothing of my whereabouts for the past couple of days or verifying my story with the others in the group I was traveling in."

To be fair, I was avoiding his question. I had my reasons for doing so, but not because I was going around murdering people.

"Miss Lewis, your knowledge of dead bodies is intriguing. Were you, by chance, revisiting your site of murder to relive your fantasy?" he had the audacity to smirk.

"Maybe I get the knowledge from the same place you do," I paused looking at him expectantly, hoping to get his name.

"Jameson," he said, still smug.

"I was in Seoul, accompanying a professor to a conference and was there for a week. You can verify my alibi with him."

He pushed his notepad towards me and even gave me a pen.

I wrote down the information quickly and gave it back to him.

His brows scrunched as he looked over the name. Ah, he knows Mr. Singh. He was a renowned scholar, but the expression seemed too sour to be of general knowledge. A student from my University, then.

"I think that will be all?" he looked at me with a sense of intrigue. Did he think I was from the same department as him? "I am sure that the specialist you are working under… probably as an a.s.sistant, knows that this is a case too difficult for you. I hope it teaches you what disappointment feels like. Your books on criminal psychology mean nothing in this room unless you know how to use it and back it up with evidence, empirical or circ.u.mstantial. You can't just use statistics and behavioral patterns out of context and think it will get you the right answer, that is never the case in any aspect of life." I stayed silent for a minute and let him fume. This went on for about ten minutes as he tried to recollect his composure.

"You're wrong," he started off. "How would you solve the case?" Under his tone of superiority lay a hope that I could make out more of the scene than he had been able to.

I looked straight past him towards the one way mirror beyond which I knew his superior was standing judging the boy harshly. He was probably doing this to teach him a lesson on level-headedness and bring his ego down a notch. It was definitely a necessary scene. I hoped they could read the exasperation on my face.

And I think they did.

"Miss Lewis, you may leave. We will call on you if there are any further questions." I nodded towards the mirror and then gave Jameson a cutting stare.

"Hope you have a good day." With that, I stood up, without waiting for him, and walked out of the room as I should have been allowed to hours ago.

I could hear the sound of footsteps following behind me, but I didn't pay it much attention. I was pleasantly surprised by Lucas, who was still waiting. Really, my opinion of him had improved over the span of one night.

"You took really long in there. Everything okay?" I nodded and beckoned him to follow me out. I had to sign a couple of forms and was warned that I might be called on again.

"There is a Starbucks nearby. I'll have to apologize for bringing you trouble," I said. It was a given that we would come across dangerous situations some day or the other but I don't think any of them signed up for a corpse.

"What happened in there?" I shrugged. "it took awfully long for them to let you go."

I didn't reply to him, I didn't want him to think we were close or in the process of becoming friends.

"Thank you for staying but you didn't need to, I feel uncomfortable to have held you back from your work."

"I am a YouTuber," he chuckled. "I don't need to go to an office or anything so a little time off is good for me. It makes work less tedious." Really, no one was happy with their job at any point in their life. How was everyone trudging through a series of failures and disappointments and just living like zombies without realizing that the thing they thought they loved was sucking the soul out of them?

Were all those romanticized nonsense about Love all true? I was glad I had never experienced it, then.

"Tired of the daily grind?" I smirked.

"You've watched my videos?" For a YouTuber with that many subscribers, he sure seemed surprised that I had stumbled upon those things he called vlogs.

"I was researching Malaysian street food and your vacation vlog appeared on my recommended list. I didn't know you back then, but I got to see a lot of food. You act loud and reckless, so I didn't watch further."

From the corner of my eyes, I could see someone approaching me. I turned to look and groaned. It was the boy from before. He seemed to have purposely followed me out even though it had taken him some time to figure out where I had gone.

"Evie Lewis," he called out loudly. People nearby all turned to look at him. It was still early and most people were not fully awake so his voice was unwelcome.

"Pull up a chair and sit," I told him. I had cla.s.ses in the second half of the day so I could drop by the apartment after quenching his curiosity.

He did as I said, but he still looked a bit annoyed, though fascinated by my presence.

"How did you guess the primary estimation of time of death?"