Episode 6

The harsh fluorescent lights of the crime scene lab buzzed, a sound that usually settled Rene’s nerves, a steady hum against the chaotic symphony of her thoughts. Today, however, it felt like a siren, a warning that something was terribly wrong. She meticulously bagged a stray hair, her gloved fingers trembling slightly. The victim, a middle-aged man found in his meticulously organized apartment, presented a puzzle. No forced entry, no signs of struggle, just… stillness. And a faint, almost imperceptible scent of almonds.

“Almonds,” she whispered, the word tasting bitter on her tongue. Her mind, a well-worn carousel of anxieties, immediately spun. Cyanide. Poison. Who would poison a man in his own home, so subtly? Her gaze darted to the windows, then to the vent above the sink. Were they watching? Listening?

Deon, bless his heart, was trying his best to be helpful. He’d arrived with a Tupperware container of what he called “fortified survival stew,” a concoction of beans, lentils, and enough spices to make a grown man weep. He sat at a nearby table, meticulously arranging his collection of tiny, intricately carved wooden birds. “You know, Rene,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “they say that if you line up the birds just so, you can ward off… bad vibes. And maybe government surveillance drones.”