Police tape surrounded the quiet neighborhood. A crowd gathered on the sidewalk. Neighbors whispered and pointed at the scene. Two officers stood guard outside the house. Detective Azul specialists arrived. Solemn faced, they ducked under the tape. He entered the deceased's home warily. The scent of violence filled his nostrils. Muted sunlight illuminated the living room. Bashed furniture and overturned saucers. Drops of dried blood speckled the carpet. He drew in a deep breath, nodded.Johnson, his partner, waited. Detective Azul glanced back sternly. Then entered deeper, keen eyes scanning the room. His pulse quickened, senses heightened. A lock of blonde hair beneath the armchair. He knelt down slowly, gently brushed it. Plucked out a strand, carefully examined it. "This our victim, Johnson?" he asked softly. "No ID on the body," Johnson replied grimly. Detective Azul frowned thoughtfully. Exchanged a somber look with his partner. "Then let the investigation begin," he said firmly. >