'Where is she, Jack?'

'In-in the bedroom.'

'Take me to her.'

In the dark apartment, none than 2 men are aware of a murder.

'Where's the switch?'

'Please! Don't-don't turn the lights on!'

'Jack!'

'The blood! The-she. Don't let me see her. Not like this.'

'Jack. You have to let me-'

'Please, Cass. Not her. No.'

Crimson fingernails stretch out to find the other guy's hands. It's shake fizzes to a stop, finding Cass's stout shoulder.

'It's too much!'

'Wait here, Jack. I'll-'

'No! You won't find her. Not without me.'

The silence doesn't try to hide the first snarl of his cry.

A wooden innocent door leads to hell.

Broken glass shards, a smashed in champagne bottle, ruffled clothes, a pair of women's undergarments, the runaway feathers of ripped pillows, soiled wet bedsheet are waiting to welcome the pair of men.

The Queen is on the bed.

'Jack, look away. I'll have to-'

'No, no!'

'Meet me outside.'

'No, Cass.'

Pair of expensive suede shoes trample over, cracking the last shrapnel of a wine glass.

The floor is naked, without a carpet. But, someone painted a picture on it.

The piece of art feels alive, an entity itself.

The smell of paint is haunting. Rigid and unedited.

A tube of light dances on the glass wall, before it falls on the centered masterpiece.

'Jesus Christ!'

'No, Cass. It's not real!'

The man stares at the showpiece.

The woman on the bed is seductive, alluring, teasing with her clothes of.

And dead.

'Jesus!'

The focused light loses aim.

'Oh, God! Cass.'

Silence is haunting.

Her hair is perfect, braids are still undisturbed.

The Royal Blue Satin Cocktail dress is sleeping on her side.

Fabrics are ripped around the arms.

'Jesus, Jack! Jesus fucking Christ.'

'Tell me it's not real, Cass. My wife--Mary's still alive!'

Two curving knives are stuck in her ribcage, where her pale smooth skin is designed with violent precisions.

Cass can make out the ribs, the bruised curve around her chest. The crimson blood is looking maroon in his torchlight.

She's history.

'Jesus, Jack. The police-we need to call the-'

'No! Not them. No!'

'Jack, look at her.'

'No! Cass, I know. I know who did this.'

'Jack, it's out of our hands!'

'I know the son of a bitch! She knows him. He did this to her!'

There's a howl.

'She had an affair. I know him. I heard him speak.'

A sweat is born on Cass's forehead.

'She cheated on me. And-and he killed her!'

'Jack, no.'

'Yes. I'm gonna get him. Cass. I'm gonna get him now!'

Honesty isn't silent.

'I loved Mary. Jack, I loved her. I wouldn't do this to her.'

'Cass?'

'She came to me, cause of you. She was afraid. Of you.'

'Cass, no!'

'I loved her, Jack. I could never hurt her. She came to me. She loved me.'

'Cass, no!'

'I didn't kill her, Jack. You did.'

Pause.

'She showed me the scars. Of the time you beat her.. She ran to me when on the first night. Then, every night. You-she was scared of you. You killed her, Jack.'

In the darkness, Cass doesn't see the kitchen knife but his chest feels it.

The first and last murder that he solved, is the last thing because now, there are two corpses in the room.