Murder

eanishingullet

It was a crisp, quiet evening at 8:15 PM when a man strolled down a deserted street. The streetlights cast long shadows, and the only sound was the rhythmic tap of his shoes against the pavement. Suddenly, a sharp noise echoed through the night, and the man collapsed, motionless. By the time a passerby found him, it was clear he was dead.

The police arrived swiftly, but they were immediately baffled. There was a small, clean hole in the man's head, and blood had begun to pool beneath him, but there was no sign of the bullet that had ended his life. It was as if the projectile had simply vanished. With no obvious clues, the case was handed over to the Criminal Investigation Department (CID).

Detective Remen Volker and his partner, Steve Nobb, took charge of the investigation. Remen was a seasoned detective with a sharp eye for detail, while Steve was known for his persistence. They both knew this case would be challenging, but neither was prepared for what lay ahead.Their first step was to examine the CCTV footage from the area. The footage showed the man walking along the street at 8:15 PM, seemingly unaware of any danger. At 8:16 PM, he suddenly collapsed, and that was it—no sign of a gunshot, no visible shooter, nothing. The footage only added to the mystery.

Remen replayed the footage several times, his eyes narrowing with each pass. "Something's not right," he muttered, mostly to himself. ouldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something crucial.

"What's going on, Remen?" Steve asked, noticing his partner's intense focus.

Remen shook his head. "This man didn’t die from a gunshot, at least not in the way we think. There’s no bullet, no residue. But the hole in his head—it’s too precise to be anything else. And the sound of the shot... it just doesn’t add up."

The two detectives returned to the crime scene, where Remen began searching the area with renewed vigor. Steve followed closely, still trying to piece together what his partner had said. As Remen inspected the ground closely, he noticed something strange—a small, nearly invisible device embedded in the pavement, just a few feet from where the man had fallen.

"What is this?" Remen asked aloud, carefully extracting the device.

Steve leaned in for a closer look. "A speaker? But why would there be a speaker here?"

Remen’s eyes widened as the pieces began to fit together. "The sound of the gunshot—it was fake. This device must have emitted the noise to create the illusion of a shooting."

"But then how did the man die? And what about the hole in his head?" Steve asked, still struggling to follow.

"I don’t know yet," Remen admitted. "But we need to dig deeper. Something else is going on here."

Meanwhile, across town, a man in a tailored suit entered a luxurious mansion. He poured himself a glass of rare wine and settled into a plush armchair. As he turned on the television, the news of the mysterious death flashed across the screen. The man’s hand tightened around the glass as he stared at the screen, his mind racing. The victim was his son.

He immediately contacted the authorities, demanding justice and vowing to uncover the truth behind his son's death. Little did he know that the truth would be more complex than he could have ever imagined.

The next day, as Remen and Steve reviewed their findings, a mysterious man walked into the police station. He claimed to have information about the case and was immediately brought to the CID for questioning. The man, dressed in a long coat and hat, kept his face partially hidden, adding to the intrigue.

"I know what happened," the man said calmly. "But it’s not what you think. The man didn’t die from a gunshot. He was poisoned—something subtle, something undetectable until it was too late. The gunshot sound you heard was a cover, meant to distract you from the real crime."

Remen leaned forward, intrigued. "And how do you know all this?"

"I was there," the man replied. "I saw someone tampering with the footage. They erased the real killer from the video. The man you think shot himself... he was actually trying to defend himself against someone else."

"Who was the real killer?" Remen asked, his voice steady.

The man hesitated before pulling out a sketch. "I saw his face. Here, this is what he looks like."

Remen took the sketch and felt a chill run down his spine. The face on the paper belonged to Johan Liebert, the son of the president—the same man who had been reported dead the night before.

The room fell silent as the detectives processed this new information. But before they could react, the mysterious man in the coat reached up and removed his hat, revealing his face. It was Johan Liebert.

Steve gasped. "But you—how can this be?"

Johan smiled faintly. "The truth is rarely what it seems," he said before turning and walking out of the station, leaving the detectives with more questions than answers.

The case remained unsolved, with Johan Liebert at the center of a mystery that defied logic. As Remen and Steve continued their investigation, they realized they were dealing with forces far beyond their understanding—a conspiracy that reached into the highest echelons of power and a crime that blurred the line between reality and illusion.