In 2006, 9 people were murdered in 9 different states within' two weeks- three of them were police officers. Ever since then, the killer's been quiet- until now.
Detective Jacob strolled into the apartment, much to the annoyance of the Forensic team. A thin, old man in a white plastic suit looked flabergasted. Recovering, the old man began to yell "Thi-this is un-acceptable! You are contaminating the scene, get out!"
Jacob folded his arms and calmly said "I'm detective Jacob from the FBI. I don't care who you are, I need you and your forensics team to pack up."
The old man stuttered "Yo-you can't just w-walk in here and order us around!"
Jacob frowned "I can and I am. Take a look at this warrant."
The old man limped forwards and aggressively grabbed the warrant out of Jacob's hand. His eyes scanned the warrant. "Well fine then, contaminate the scene, destroy our work."
Twelve minutes later Jacob found himself alone on the apartments balcony, looking at a dead woman. Grabbing his six thousand dollar camera, Jacob began to take photo's of the body. He began muttering to himself "Marks on throat by someone wearing a metal ring on ring finger. Rosebud on chest as expected. White hair on jeans left leg- present on sweater, bra as well, likely a dog lover. Fingernails dirty, she tried painting above the dirt when soap couldn't clean her hands..."
Jacob began searching the sofa's, beds and carpet. Dissatisfied he mumbled "She didn't own any dogs. Must have visited a lovers house, only explanation. He may be able to provide some relevant data- he obviously didn't commit the crime, no, this was too carefully planned. Door was locked when the body was found and no signs of a struggle."
Walking back to the body, Jacob searched her until he found a mobile phone in her pocket. Turning it on, he found a password lock. Frowning, he examined the phone, thinking scratch marks on a touch screen from her finger nails, been dropped numerous times. Colours black but her clothes and apartment are multi-colour. Must be a company phone, explains the lack of protection and taste. Tapping the screen, Jacob smiled- no style was present. If the touch screen is this bad, then she would have tapped with her finger nail, leaving a mark. Turning the brightness down, he examined the screen to see which numbers had the most scratch marks. Jacob thought No, that's not it... 3852, no... no... oh, for the love o- oh, it worked. He went through her phone numbers, recording them all down. Jacob texted his employer.
11:23pm(Jacob): Sending a file, departed's phone numbers included, please research. New objective?
11:24pm(anonymous): Torch the apartment. Wait 4, call 911. Rendevous 0920 at Spire.
11:24pm(Jacob): Police were just here.
Tearing the strip on a napalm container, Jacob began pouring out liquid fire onto the body, backtracking until he made it to the door. Casually tossing the container into the quickly erupting blaze, he closed the door. Swallowing, Jacob wiped his forehead, counting to 240 as he walked down the hall.