5

Pisuth

Why does it have to be me…?

The young man in khaki uniform asked himself as he walked in a forensics lab nervously.

He knew asking that would not get him any answer, but to ask his commander? Out of the question.

Pisuth just got his job as a police investigator. His strong point was in his physical abilities, which was more than others in the same age.

But his mental strength? Total failure. He fainted when he saw a dead body for the first time.

Because he was (in)famous, he didn"t have to do risky jobs or mess around with murders.

Except for this time when he hit the jackpot with a famous producer"s death.

When he saw the man"s house, he thought he would lose it.

He knew well enough that as a police, he would come across something like this. Pisuth had no courage to abandon his entire lineage of cops. He avoided cases that are risky (to his mental health), but in the end, a case is a case. He could not run from it.

Still, he hated ghosts, corpses, and scary stories.

"Why is this so hard? It"s obvious there"s no conspiracy here."

Pisuth mumbled frantically.

The victim died from heart failure in his own house. No sign of intrusion, no weapon, no poison in his whiskey. To top it off, on the table was a health check report that stated "risk of heart attack" in bold letters.

When he asked anyone who might have anything to do with the man or entered the mansion: lawyer, secretary, maids, gardeners, and that young man who contacted him for work… all of them had evidence that they were not in the mansion when he died. From investigations, it seemed they had no reason to kill him either.

This case should already close.

But it was not over, because the victim"s relatives did not trust in the police.

People are strange. Why did they want their relative to die of murder that bad?

Pisuth could guess.

He heard from the older policemen that if a victim was murdered, his or her will might be fake. The relatives might get some inheritance.

The leader of the investigation wanted to deny digging it up, but because the dead in this case was a famous man, the media wanted materials to fuel their businesses. The commander needed to rea.s.sure the public to trust in his investigation team and redo the forensics.

But no matter how they dug the corpse for a hint of murder, a heart failure is still, drum roll… a heart failure. Still, the public were not so ready to believe such a conclusion.

Sigh… I don"t wanna do this kind of work…

As he got lost in thoughts, Pisuth realized that he was in front of the forensics room. He stood at the door, hesitating.

But when he remembered his strict boss"s face, he knew there was no other choice.

Here goes nothing!

He encouraged himself and opened the door with newfound confidence.

"h.e.l.lo! I"m the police that had an appointment…"

Silence…

The only reply was his own echo.

"Huh? n.o.body"s here? That means…"

He"s alone with corpses in this room!!!

While he was afraid, a voice called from behind.

"What are you doing?"

"Yikeeesssss!!!"

Pisuth was startled and screamed. When he turned around, a man in a lab coat was looking at him. His face and eyes were so cold they could freeze a person. He looked young. Might be a medical student.

But the intimidating aura radiating from this guy made the room temperature drop below freezing.

"Are you a doctor, sir?"

"What the heck do you think I am?"

The young doctor answered curtly. He walked past Pisuth without introducing himself or batting an eye.

"Hurry up and state your business. I came far. I don"t want to waste time here. Where"s that corpse that died from a surprise?"

When commanded, Pisuth gave all the papers he had to that doctor.

The young doctor accepted them and skimmed through, as if they were boring leaflets. He walked straight to a bed with a corpse, then pulled out the fabric covering its face. He stared at it with cold eyes while Pisuth turned away with a shriek.

"Anything out of the ordinary, sir?"

The young policeman asked, still looking away.

"No. Just an ordinary heart attack."

The doctor said flatly, as if he was saying a cancer patient only had a cold.

"If you"re not okay with that, ask for a reexamination all you want. Results will be the same."

Pisuth"s face brightened up a little. Finally, the case would close.

"By the way, is there anything wrong?"

The doctor asked, and the policeman turned around. He suddenly had to be the one answering questions.

"The house. Anything wrong with it?"

Pisuth thought. He could remember the dead man"s terrified expression.

And…

"A doll, I guess."

"Doll?"

Because they did not want to pursue unnecessary leads, the police kept quiet about a doll sitting next to the dead man"s corpse.

That doll was a woman in a pure white dress, like an angel coming to take his soul to heaven. The doll"s face was out-of-this-world kind of beautiful, like a maiden from another realm. She was attractive and pure, but to Pisuth, something spine-chilling was inside that fragile body of hers.

Maybe because that doll was made from a corpse?

Technology could already make a corpse beautiful? Or did human mind regress to the point where collecting corpses could be a hobby?

"Where"s that doll?"

The doctor asked. His cold voice could not hide his interests.

"Umm… We didn"t think it had anything to do with the case, so when the owner of that doll asked to get her back, we let her go. He said he would use her for stage prop…"

"The police has all the records of people involved, right?"

The young doctor mumbled to himself, then head for the door. Pisuth stopped him.

"Umm…! Could you please sign the forensics result?"

In the end Pisuth was scolded by his boss, and there was a need for reexamination, since no doctor on record had the name "Vakin."

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