Daisy's home.

Early in the morning, Daisy, wearing a light nightie, stood in the kitchen making breakfast.

Luke sat at the dining table, his gaze sweeping over her figure from behind. The nightie was loose, only revealing a slender waist.

The sun shone on the nightie, and through the sheer fabric, her body curves became apparent—tall, slender, and perky.

Different from stick-thin legs, Daisy's legs were more voluptuous, like wine glasses.

Western girls could easily stir up desires deep within a person's heart.

Luke wanted to date Daisy.

Daisy's attitude, however, was somewhat complicated.

Luke could feel that Daisy was fond of him and, secondly, that he could give her a sense of security.

As for which of the two was more important, he couldn't tell.

But the fact that the two of them were living together was already a successful first step.

Next, he just needed to find the right opportunity to sleep with her.

Shameless?

He didn't care at all; living two lives, he only wanted to do what he enjoyed doing.

Like overtime work, if he wanted to do it, he would, if not, he wouldn't.

As someone with a system, did he really expect to get rich from that little bit of overtime pay?

"Breakfast is ready." Daisy brought the plates over and sat across from Luke.

Toast, fried eggs, bacon, sausages, lettuce, mushrooms, milk, orange juice.

"Wow, that's lavish. I hope it's like this every day." Luke took a bite of sausage, crispy on the outside and tender inside, baked in the oven until the skin had split open and the fat had oozed out.

Daisy took a sip of orange juice, "Then you should eat more, Luke the bodyguard."

"Yes, ma'am." Luke replied with a smile, "What time do you finish work tonight? I'm planning to go home and get some clean clothes."

"I have a meeting with a client in the afternoon, and I might work late. You don't need to pick me up.

I'm not afraid of getting off work alone, it's just that I don't like the house to be pitch-dark. It's fine as long as the lights are on."

"OK, this is much easier than being a cop."

...

In the morning, Luke arrived at the detective bureau, where his main responsibility was to take statements from those involved in the case.

Lorne's three children were also called to the station to be questioned about any clues they might know regarding the warehouse.

There was a minor incident during this process; Emma accused her sister Sofia of tampering with the will, while their brother Brooke tried to mediate. However, things only got worse as he intervened. Emma felt isolated and ended up berating both her siblings.

It took quite some time before the three were separated and questioned individually.

After reading the written will, Emma harbored resentment towards her brother and sister due to conflicting interests.

In the afternoon, Mary from the technical survey team came to the office with a document in hand, "The forensic report from the scene is out."

Susan gestured invitingly, "Mary, please go ahead and read it."

Mary opened the file and focused on the key information, "We confirmed that the bloodstains on the ground match the DNA of the deceased. We also found some hair on the warehouse floor that is a perfect match with the DNA of the suspect Tim.

Furthermore, we found a right palm print on the box that does not match Tim's.

The decomposition of the body was too advanced to make a comparison.

We cannot rule out the presence of a third person at the scene.

That's mainly it."

Luke asked, "Has the oil painting the deceased was holding been restored?"

Mary sighed, "The painting was stuck to the body and has also decayed significantly. Restoration is very challenging and requires a specialist to handle it. We'll need to wait some more time."

The deputy chief chuckled, "OK, it's about time to have a serious chat with young Tim."

...

At three o'clock in the afternoon.

The interrogation room of the detective bureau.

Tim was handcuffed to the interrogation chair, while Luke and the deputy chief handled the questioning.

The deputy chief sat beside the interrogation table, smiling amiably at Tim, "How have you been these past two days? Any progress with your new romance?"

Tim glared at him and turned his head away.

"Wow, looking all delicate and precious. Seems like you're getting along splendidly with your cellmate."

"Bullshit! You old fart, shut your mouth. I'm not afraid of you."

"Don't be impulsive, young man. I'm here today with some good news for you. Lorne's not dead. Care to give your acceptance speech?"

"I don't know Lorne, I don't know what you're talking about."

The deputy chief continued, "On February 26th, you and your accomplice drove a black Volvo to Lorne's house, and you attacked him with a Taser gun, but he didn't die. Do you regret not killing him now?

With Lorne's testimony, we have enough to clear up the whole case. If you're willing to confess, I can give you another chance."

Tim's expression shifted, his head bowed, no longer daring to meet the deputy chief's gaze.

"OK, if you won't talk, I will." The deputy chief stood up and started pacing back and forth,

"After you attacked Lorne, you took the keys and social security card from him. Then you drove to the warehouse. Shall I continue?"

Tim's body trembled imperceptibly, "I don't know what you are talking about."

The deputy team leader, hands on the interrogation chair, said from above, "Why did you kill Tony?"

Tim's fists clenched tightly, and through gritted teeth, a few words popped out, "I don't know who Tony is?"

"Have you ever been to the Moen Storage Center?"

"No," Tim answered crisply.

"Edmond Locard once said, 'Every contact leaves a trace.' We found bloodstains and hair at the crime scene warehouse. The blood matched the victim's, and the hair belonged to you.

Tim, just on that alone, we have enough to prosecute you."

"Fuck! Fuck…"

Unable to bear it, Tim completely broke down, "I admit I've been to the warehouse, but I didn't kill Tony."

The deputy team leader pressed on, "Who is the murderer?"

"Cole Becker."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. I've been caught for so long, he's long since run off without a trace."

"Tell me everything about Cole Becker."

"He's an oil painting trader. I only know his cell number, 626 876 9172."

"Whose black Volvo is that?"

"It was rented with a friend's driver's license."

"How did you two meet?"

"About a year ago, we met at an oil painting exhibition. I'm also an oil painting trader. He initiated a conversation with me about wanting to acquire some famous oil paintings and asked if I had any channels.

We got along quite well, exchanged business cards, thinking that perhaps we could collaborate in the future.

Later, we met a few times, had a few drinks. He was very interested in the works of Impressionist master Schelder Hasen, even saying that if he could get Schelder's work, he would give me a substantial reward.

At first, I thought he had patrons wanting to buy Schelder's paintings, but later I found out his ancestors owned a Schelder painting that had been stolen, and he always wanted to retrieve that painting.

Late on, through other channels, he inquired about the painting's whereabouts and learned that it might be in Tony's possession."

Tim sighed lightly and continued, "We found Tony, pressed him about the painting's whereabouts, and he said the painting was with Lorne, even taking us to Lorne's house.

We caught Lorne and found out where the painting was.

Lorne said the painting was hidden in the Moen Storage Center; we found it and opened the warehouse. Indeed, there were many paintings hidden there, but Schelder's work wasn't among them.

Cole was furious, feeling deceived, and threatened to kill Tony.

In desperation, Tony attacked Cole, and things spiraled out of control.

I helped Cole subdue Tony and drove to move the paintings. When I brought the car to the front of the warehouse... Tony strangled Cole to death.

Sorry, I misspoke; it was Cole who strangled Tony to death."

"With what did he strangle him?"

"A belt."

The deputy team leader asked, "So Cole is the mastermind?"

"Yes."

"What was the grudge between him, Tony, and Lorne?"

"I don't know. They would have me stand watch outside when they talked; he didn't trust me at all, he was just using me."

"Do you have any other accomplices?"

"No."

"Why did you help Cole commit the crime?"

"I like gambling... I've borrowed a lot in high-interest loans. If I don't pay back the money, they will kill me."

"Do you want a reduced sentence?"

"Of course, I'm willing to be a tainted witness and testify against Cole."

"OK, then help us catch Cole first."

"Cole is very mysterious, always wary of me. I really don't know too much about him."

"Do you have his picture?"

"No, but I can help you draw a portrait of him."

"You can draw?"

"Yeah, this line of work is deep; without resources or connections, no one will buy your paintings. I had no choice but to become an oil painting trader."

In Luke's view, this guy was more like a middleman than an oil painting trader.

"When can you finish the sketch?"

"Do you want a sketch, or an oil painting?"

"A sketch."

"I should be done by tomorrow afternoon."

The deputy team leader smiled, "Nine o'clock tomorrow morning, I'll send someone to pick it up on time."