Chapter 6: Real-World Hazards
Perhaps it was the tumult of conflicting emotions, or the lack of novelty in the cases, but Coiley couldn’t shake the persistent thought: was the woman still alive? If direct searches proved fruitless, then the key lay in the location where the video was filmed.
With renewed determination, I pulled my superior, Rued, back to the computer. We reopened the video, this time opting for the unprocessed original, and cranked the volume to its maximum. I handed Rued the headphones, and together we scrutinized the video frame by frame, our ears tuned to the audio.
By that day, we had watched the footage over a hundred times, slowing it down, speeding it up, employing every method imaginable. Yet, despite the familiarity, the visuals yielded no new clues. It was the sound that struck a chord—a peculiar yet hauntingly familiar resonance. “It’s the waterphone!” Coiley’s memory sparked; she had heard this instrument in film scores. In cities rich with cultural vibrancy, like San Francisco, New York, and Portland, street performers might wield the waterphone to captivate passersby.
The view from the hotel window, reminiscent of the lush greenery in Washington Park, particularly the Japanese Maples, piqued our interest. Local officers’ on-site investigation confirmed a match with a residence in Washington Park, where the walls and floors aligned perfectly with the video.
Excitement surged through Coiley as she and Jett set off for Portland. The city’s allure, steeped in artistry and mystery, beckoned them. They were on the brink of unraveling a thread that might lead to the heart of the enigma. The journey ahead promised not just answers, but a deeper understanding of the intricate tapestry woven by the case.
Following the lead of the local police officer, Jett and I hastened to the residence in question. We were greeted by a middle school girl, fresh from her classes and just arrived home.
Stepping into one of the bedrooms, we examined it closely. The bed and the style of the floor tiles matched perfectly with those in the video. Even the One Piece poster on the wall was identical.
At that moment, the girl’s father returned, a burly man with a heavy stubble. Upon seeing his straining shirt about to burst over his belly, Jett and I acted in unison, rushing forward to pin him to the ground. The man struggled, his daughter cried, and the scene descended into chaos.
While restraining the man, Jett shot me a knowing glance. “Well done, you’ve made a significant breakthrough this time.”
However, our triumph was short-lived. Once the man was handcuffed and brought to the precinct for questioning, Jett and I were swiftly disillusioned.
It turned out that the man and his daughter were merely tenants of the house, having moved in just the day before. They were innocent of any wrongdoing, and our hasty actions had been misguided.
Realizing our mistake, we apologized to the father and his daughter, our faces burning with embarrassment. The father, though initially furious, calmed down upon understanding our intentions. His daughter, however, looked at us with a mixture of fear and confusion.
Subsequently, we tracked down the landlord of the house and inquired about the tenant information since the beginning of the year. The landlord, a busy businessman with numerous properties, had delegated all rental affairs to a real estate agency, leaving him unaware of the specifics. Thus, we turned our attention to the agency. After visiting multiple locations, we finally uncovered the identities of the male and female involved.
The male, named Michael, thirty years old, was burly and overweight, while the female, named Emily, twenty-six, was slender and attractive. Both were from rural areas outside the city and had rented the landlord’s property together at the start of the year. According to the staff who had shown them the apartment, the couple seemed to be in a romantic relationship, displaying intimate behavior. About a month ago, Michael and Emily had vacated the premises, with the termination of their lease handled over the phone. The agency staff who went to collect the keys found the apartment empty, with no sign of the tenants.
The Precinct quickly obtained the phone numbers of Michael and Emily.
I first attempted to call Emily. After all, Chief Lei’s and our suspicions were based on circumstantial evidence, and legally, we could not definitively confirm Emily’s death without a body. Moreover, without concrete evidence, we could not risk contacting Michael, lest we alert him.
I dialed Emily’s number several times, but there was no answer.
Jett grew impatient. “Isn’t this obvious? She must be dead!”
