The case

At six thirty in the morning, the old pastor woke without an alarm.

He felt around on the bedside table, found his reading glasses and put them on, got dressed, and began his busy day.

Before he even left his room, he heard faint sounds coming from the kitchen, and a slight smile appeared on his face-Leon was a good boy. Early to bed and early to rise, extremely self-disciplined, and without any bad habits.

In less than half an hour, Leon would have a simple yet hearty breakfast ready: toast, fried eggs, oatmeal with milk, and the like.

Sometimes, when Leon grew tired of Western food, he would make a special drive to find small supermarkets run by Asians, such as Chinese, Koreans, or Vietnamese.

Every time the boy went, he always brought back something fresh and unusual to eat.

Although the old pastor could not say he particularly liked it, he was happy to have some novelty in his life. That was what he lacked most in his old age.

"Good morning, Leon." The old pastor walked into the kitchen and greeted him, catching a rich aroma. "What's for breakfast today?"

"Vietnamese rice noodles." Lin Rui stirred the beef broth in the boiling pot with a large slotted spoon, tossing in a few pieces of lemongrass as he did. "Five more minutes."

The old pastor smiled. For some reason, he felt wonderful today. His anger over the people who had come to steal and rob them of relief food two days earlier had completely dissipated.

He stepped out of the church, intending to move around a little before breakfast, only to see police tape across the street, along with two police cars, an ambulance, and a medical refrigerated truck.

The moment he saw the refrigerated truck, the old pastor realized that something unusual must have happened.

Rather than approach the police tape, he walked diagonally across the street. Only after recognizing a neighborhood police officer did he ask, "Kane, what happened? A gang shootout?"

The medical refrigerated truck was specifically used to transport large numbers of bodies. It was only dispatched when an ordinary ambulance could not hold them all.

"No, a few homeless people died." The neighborhood officer sighed. "Damn it, seven dead in total. This is very unusual. The precinct is feeling the pressure."

"Seven? All in our neighborhood?"

That number was horrifying. Even if they were homeless, so many should not have died in such a short time. The old pastor hurriedly crossed himself.

"What was the cause of death?" With the officer's permission, the old pastor moved a little closer. The police were examining and photographing the scene, trying to uncover the truth behind the homeless people's collective deaths.

"We haven't determined the cause yet. At least, we haven't found any external injuries. Our preliminary assessment is a drug overdose."

The neighborhood officer shook his head and asked in return, "Pastor Borg, do you know these homeless people?"

Several bodies had already been placed in body bags. The bags were unzipped, revealing deathly pale faces. All the dead wore peaceful expressions.

Emaciated, filthy, unkempt... the sickliness caused by years of drug abuse was laid bare.

"Yes, I know them all. These homeless people spent their time around the nearby neighborhoods and often came to my church for aid."

"They weren't like this when they first came. Some still had vitality and hope. They asked me for help, wanted some dignity, and were willing to look for work."

"But as time passed, I watched them grow thinner by the day, destitute and down on their luck. Not one of them escaped their plight."

"Oh God, why did this happen?" Grief suddenly welled up in the old pastor, and tears streamed down his face. Instead, the neighborhood officer had to comfort him.

A little later, Linda drove up. She had come to take Lin Rui to run the food truck. When she parked near the church, she naturally noticed the grim-faced police and the personnel collecting bodies across the street.

"Peggy." Linda's gaze swept over the scene, and she recognized a female forensic pathology intern in a white coat. "What happened here?"

The forensic pathology intern was collecting footprints, soil, and vomit from the scene as forensic evidence. Hearing someone call her from behind, she quickly looked up and smiled at Linda.

As an investigative reporter who studied journalism, Linda had an instinctive sensitivity to crime scenes with a heavy official presence. One look at the police manpower and vehicles at the scene told her that something major must have happened.

"Peggy, help me out. Give me something for a story." Linda went straight over, even pulling a compact camera from her pocket and starting to photograph the scene.

An officer walked over and raised a hand to stop her. "Hey, ma'am, please stay outside the police tape. Don't interfere with the investigation."

"I am outside the police tape. I haven't gone anywhere near it. You can't drive me away. I'm a reporter. I have the right to information and to conduct interviews."

Linda nimbly shifted back and forth, avoiding the officer's attempts to block her view, while pleading quietly with the forensic pathology intern, "Peggy, you don't want the truth behind a major case covered up either, right? Tell me a little."

The forensic pathology intern wore a haughty "you're impossible" expression. Smiling lazily, she strolled casually to the edge of the police tape.

She removed her latex gloves, took a cup of coffee from an assistant, picked up a ready-made sandwich, and murmured unhurriedly:

"Seven homeless people died, all of them beyond saving. The police medical examiner's office and the medical school have already called, saying they're willing to take the bodies."

"Oh God, seven dead all at once?" Linda said in shock. "That's not normal, is it?"

The forensic pathology intern took a bite of her sandwich and said with a smile, "Although Forty Block in The Bronx has always been notorious for chaos, of course it isn't normal for this many people to die overnight in such a small area."

Linda looked at the steaming, fragrant sandwich in her friend's hand, then at the body bags not far away, and said speechlessly, "That habit of yours, eating at crime scenes, is absolutely revolting."

The forensic pathology intern shrugged. "It's not that I like doing this. I'm genuinely hungry."

"Back to the point. Was it murder?" Linda asked.

"Ah... that's the crucial part." The forensic pathology intern's expression instantly became animated. "The cause of death is unknown for all seven victims.

"The initial suspicion is that they might have taken some low-quality drugs at the same time. But my intuition tells me it probably isn't that simple.

"Because half a month ago, there was an identical death in this neighborhood. A homeless man with a severe drug addiction died during the night, and the police also thought it was an overdose.

"But when his body was sent to the medical school for the rookies to practice dissecting, they discovered that his physiological functions were nowhere near the point of death. In other words, the cause of death was unknown."

"So?" Linda hoped to get a definitive conclusion from her friend.

The forensic pathology intern shrugged. "When my professor heard there were seven similar cases, he couldn't wait to investigate what exactly had happened himself.

"He sent me to conduct a preliminary examination and then transport the bodies back. He even said he hoped it was some novel method of committing a crime, so he could write a substantial paper and apply for follow-up research funding while he was at it."

"I get it. What you care about is 'repeatability.' Someone has committed crimes using the same method, openly challenging the police's ability to solve cases."

Linda had grasped the key point.

"I can write a news report about this too. It might even make the front page of The New York Times tonight. My professor will be interested in this as well."

Just then, having finished breakfast, Lin Rui came out of the church, planning to take the food truck out with Linda. But Linda said she had stumbled upon a major case that rarely came along and had no time to go out and make money with him.

As the two greeted each other, the forensic pathology intern glanced over from behind and to the side, then leaned close to Linda's back and asked quietly, "Who's this boy? He looks pretty good. When did you hook up with him?"

"Don't talk nonsense. This is Leon. He came from Country Z to study in a preparatory program. He isn't even an adult yet," Linda protested.

"Stop covering it up. As if I don't know your tastes. You've never liked muscular men. You like the more delicate-looking ones."

The forensic pathology intern smiled suggestively and offered Lin Rui her hand.

"Hi, I'm Peggy, Linda's friend. If Linda dumps you someday, remember to come find me. When I have time, how about I take you on a tour of the morgue?"

Lin Rui politely shook Peggy's hand, but when he heard "a tour of the morgue," he could no longer keep a straight face and froze.

Their prank a success, both women burst out laughing.