“We got something,” Graviton said, breaking the tension that filled the room by replacing it with something worse.

“Damn...” Grimm said.

“It would be foolish to expect the killer to stop now,” Gaunt said. “We were waiting for him to strike so we could act as soon as possible, so let us put the grieving aside and concentrate in finding the criminal.”

“Who was the victim this time?” Drake asked.

“Victims,” Graviton corrected. “A family in New England. Girl woke up to find her adoptive father, brother and sister dead. Her mother was in shock...”

“She was raped,” Hero added. “The cops found this in the crime scene...” Hero showed a printed page with a scanned picture in the middle.



“I just called our UN liason...” he continued. “They're pulling some strings to clear the way for us to check the scene.”

“Let's go, then,” Drake said.

A subteam was formed, and a few teleportations away they were at the doorstep of the small mansion where the killings took place. “The lock was picked,” Adem said.

The detective standing on the doorway laughed. “Did ya figure out that one all by yourself, pal?”

Adem looked at him and smiled. “I was just thinking out loud, Detective Brunson.”

Brunson looked at the gang behind Adem. “So this is the 'special group' they asked us to clear the way for...” he shook his head. “Why don't you metas just let us do our jobs? TV says you Strikeforce types are normal folk... but I know better.”

“You'll have your chance to examine the crime scene after we've left, Detective,” Adem said. “This won't take very long.”

“Care to tell us what you've found so far?” Phil asked. Please say no.

The detective sighed and walked from the doorway to the entrance hall, as he took a small notepad from his coat's pocket and opened it somewhere near the middle. “First of all... the lock was picked... but The Bat-Man here already knew that, din't ya?” he said with a cynic chuckle.

As the detective talked, Adem seemed more concentrated with visually examining the inside of the house from where he was standing in the entrance hall...

“Place's big as you can see, Daddy was loaded, but they had no help around the house 'cept a gardener that comes on mondays,” the detective continued. “Yeah, I know. Beats me.”

In front of Adem, there was a not so wide but very tall wall with several expensive things decorating it, including antiques, African masks of all sorts, and colorful ceramics. A small table by the wall showed equally expensive small decorations. The floor was cream white ceramic.

“Guy used cheap boots, we know that 'cause of the faint imprint on the tiles. He goes from the doorway to the first door over there...”

To his right, Adem could see a hall with three open doors, the first with a small wooden pink sign in the shape of a heart hanging from it...

“Then to the second...”

...the second with several posters, a “DO NOT ENTER” one being the most prominent...

“...he ignores the rest...”

...and the third door with nothing at all. At the end of the hall there was a doorway that quite visibly led to a kitchen.

“...and goes up the stairs.”

To his left, Adem could see a set of spiralling carpeted stairs that led to a single opened door.

“Anyways, the vics were killed in their sleep by multiple stab wounds. The rooms weren't disturbed in any other way, except for... you know, the rape. When he was done he just walked out the door. Some piece o' work we got here.”

Adem looked back at Brunson. “Where are the survivors?”

“'round the back with a shrink and some of my guys. Kid told us everything she saw, but the woman ain't talking. Still in shock.”

Phil nodded, to no one in particular. “I'm on it.” He turned around and walked out to the garden.

“Oh, yeah...” the Detective added. “We were getting to the garden when word came that we shouldn't touch shit so you can do your thing. There's probably nothin' there, but ya never know.” He started walking towards the entrance door. “Lemme know when you're done here so the grown ups can do their job, 'kay?”

“Will do, Detective Brunson,” Adem said with another disturbing smile.

It hit the detective just as he was walking out the door: how did the 'dirty meta' know his name if he didn't introduce himself? “Well, I'll be damned...” he said to himself “...maybe he ain't that bad...”