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🕑 Added 2025-03-21 05:55:21 +0000 UTCAnatomy of a Killer
Chapter 18 - The Girl in the Woods, Part 7
"I wasn’t expecting this..." Ángel had thought that Camila was the best candidate to be the prime suspect in the murder. Not only had she lied about being Nicolás' girlfriend, but her relationship with the victim was uncertain.
I knew we had to insist on interrogating those students one by one. Larry was irritated by cases where children were involved, whether as victims or criminals. There were far more restrictions compared to cases involving adults.
By the time Larry stopped thinking about the details, the three of them had already crossed the forest and soon arrived at the crime scene, near the path on the other side.
Counting the steps, it was about fifty meters away. The light seen from this distance had to be either a flashlight or the flash of a phone.
At that moment, the sun was beginning to rise, so visibility was becoming clearer.
Camila was kneeling in front of a towering tree, her arms wrapped around it in a forced and unnatural gesture.
Her wrists were tightly bound to the rough bark with a shoelace, her skin reddened from the pressure. Around her, the ground was covered with dry pine needles and dead branches, carefully arranged behind her, as if someone had tried to hide something or stage a macabre scene.
The discovery of the shoelace sparked a wave of enthusiasm among the investigators. If the killer hadn't used gloves, their DNA might be embedded in the fibers, offering a crucial lead to track them down.
"Once again, in the woods..."
The ground was a mix of dead leaves and hardened soil—an ideal surface for leaving no footprints. There were no drag marks or signs of a struggle, suggesting that the victim had likely been restrained elsewhere before being placed here.
The killer had chosen the site with precision. Not only was it an area rarely traveled, but the arrangement of the dead branches behind the body suggested a crude, perhaps rushed, attempt at concealment. However, rather than covering up the crime, it seemed more like a message or a signature. This was no random murder; every detail had been intentional.
If the school hadn’t intensified its patrols, the body could have remained undiscovered for hours, maybe even days. That raised a disturbing possibility: had the killer been waiting for someone to find her much later than now?
Ángel lifted the police tape, allowing Larry to examine the scene in detail. Their communication was swift, almost instinctive. Each case seemed to strengthen their ability to interpret the hidden patterns behind every crime.
Larry slowly approached Camila, never taking his eyes off her lifeless body.
To be honest, the conversation from the previous day was still lingering in his mind. There was something about it that had never fully convinced him, a subtle contradiction in the way she spoke. But he had never imagined that today, he would find her as a corpse.
Her head rested lightly against the tree trunk, her medium-length hair falling forward, partially hiding her face. She was wearing her school uniform: a short-sleeved white blouse and a navy blue skirt with two thin white lines along the hem. At first glance, the scene almost seemed harmless, as if she wasn’t actually dead. That explained the confusion of the night guard and why he had touched her.
Camila was kneeling before the tree, her feet pointing backward and her knees bent in an "M" shape—an oddly orderly position for a lifeless body. If it weren’t for the context, anyone might have thought she had simply fallen asleep.
To the side, her shoes lay neatly placed side by side, as if they had been removed deliberately. The soles of her now bare feet were covered in a fine layer of dust—a detail that suggested she had walked barefoot before dying… or that someone had moved her.
Larry slightly adjusted his position before reaching out and brushing aside the hair covering Camila’s face.
As soon as his eyes landed on her expression, a chill ran down his spine. The girl's eyes were wide open, frozen in a gaze of sheer terror. Her mouth, slightly ajar, seemed to want to release one last scream that never came. There was no doubt: in her final moments, Camila had been fully aware of what was happening.
Larry took a deep breath and thought: With an expression like that… she wasn’t just killed—she was caught off guard. It was a quick, unexpected murder.
Only from this angle did Larry notice another crucial detail: a cord, similar to the one binding her wrists, was wrapped around her neck. But the most chilling part wasn’t the cord itself—it was the way the ends had been meticulously tied into a precise knot.
Larry narrowed his eyes as he recalled something.
He had seen that same pattern before.
The knots were identical to those used in the case of Greta Mayer on January 2nd. The same technique. The same precision.
This was no coincidence.
As Larry reached out to place the measuring ruler over the body, Ángel—who had taken Max’s place after his emotional collapse—leaned in and snapped a photograph of the mark on Camila’s neck. The impression was deep and clear—a silent testament to the force with which she had been strangled.
The entire mark around her neck formed a circular pattern, with three or four deep grooves embedded in the skin. However, the most pronounced one had a semicircular shape, with a slight elevation at the back of her neck.
Larry examined the mark closely. The distribution of the grooves left no doubt: the killer had strangled Camila initially, then repeated the process, as if they needed to make absolutely sure she was dead. This wasn’t an impulsive act—it was methodical.
There was another detail that was even more telling. This type of strangulation, with repeated pressure, was characteristic of crimes committed by someone close to the victim. Someone who didn’t just want to kill her—but wanted to silence her.
Camila’s hair, carefully spread over her face, reinforced that theory. It wasn’t just a careless oversight by the killer—it seemed like a deliberate attempt to conceal her expression.
The marks on her neck were all horizontal, a clear indication that the pressure applied had been consistent and sustained. The skin around the grooves was leathery and dark purple—unmistakable signs of prolonged pressure. Fortunately, the body had been discovered quickly, preventing more evident signs of livor mortis from developing.
Larry moved to examine Camila’s hand and observed the bindings around her wrists. The cords had cut deep into her skin, leaving raw, reddened gashes. However, what caught his attention the most were her clenched fists—tightly shut.
His pupils contracted in understanding.
Something didn’t add up.
Victims of mechanical asphyxiation usually try to grab onto anything as an instinctive act of survival—the object strangling them, their own clothes, or even thin air. But Camila didn’t. Her fists were closed with an unusual rigidity.
She wasn’t grabbing something out of instinct… She was holding onto something. Or maybe… resisting until the very end.
Almost instinctively, Larry extended Camila’s rigid fingers. Her joints were tense, as if she had been clutching something in her final moments.
A small fragment of white leather, vaguely shaped like the letter "B," fell from her palm.
Larry’s normally calm demeanor tensed.
Without wasting any time, he picked it up with extreme care and placed it in an evidence bag. Then, with the precision of experience, he meticulously clipped Camila's nails to send them for analysis. If there were any traces of the attacker, they could be found there.
As he stood up, an unsettling sensation hit him.
That piece of leather… he had seen it before.
He tried to search his memory, going over old crime scenes, past cases, and forensic reports. But the exact image slipped through his mind like sand through his fingers.
"Ángel, contact someone to transport the body to the center."
There was nothing else to examine here. This crime scene wasn’t as brutal as before, which gave Larry more freedom to think things through at the center. At that moment, firm footsteps approached from behind. Sergeant Doakes stopped beside him, observing him with his characteristic seriousness.
"Is everything okay? What did you find?"
Larry let out a sigh and looked at Camila's body again. "Mechanical asphyxiation. It's undoubtedly a homicide. The death occurred within the last two hours."
Doakes frowned, waiting for more details.
"Judging by the time the security guard reported the case, the light he saw must have been from the killer’s phone. It’s likely they were still here when they were discovered."
After saying that, Larry paused and revealed his analysis: "The killer could also be a woman. Camila wasn’t particularly strong, but if her attacker had less physical strength, they would have needed to apply repeated pressure to ensure she was dead. That would explain the multiple grooves on the victim’s neck."
Doakes slowly nodded and said, "That usually happens when the attacker fears the victim might survive. Excessive force due to insecurity."
"Exactly," Larry confirmed and added, "But the rest of the details will depend on the autopsy and forensic analysis. In the meantime, we need to expand the scope of the investigation."
The two men exchanged a look.
Two students murdered in a short period of time.
The pattern was clear.
Time was running out. And if they didn’t catch the killer soon, there would be a third victim.
"Of course. I’ll stay at the school and take care of the investigation."
"Also, I think we can link this case to Greta Meyer’s!" Larry didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but he trusted his research, so he said, "Judging by the way the knots were tied and the choice of the crime scene, the killer is the same."
Ángel, who had been inspecting the surroundings, rushed back with an evidence bag in hand. "I found this lighter and a leather buckle about 20 meters away. I don’t know if they’re related to the case, but it’s worth analyzing them."
Sergeant Doakes, eager for any clue that could help close the case, nodded firmly. This time, he hoped the evidence would be enough to catch the murderer.
Without wasting any more time, Larry and Ángel got into the car and quickly returned to the investigation center.
As soon as they parked, they saw Masuka and Max waiting at the entrance, both with tense expressions.
As soon as they got out of the car, Masuka rushed toward them.
"We have a problem. After signing the body’s transfer, Camila’s parents arrived… and they’re making a huge scene!"
Ángel frowned. "What happened?"
"They say they won’t allow the autopsy." This happened all the time—Masuka understood it. "They’re causing an uproar inside the center. Camila’s mother even scratched one of the criminal investigation agents when he tried to talk to them."
"What? She attacked a cop?" Ángel’s eyes widened in disbelief.
As soon as they stepped inside, the scene before them was shocking.
In the middle of the hallway, a woman with shoulder-length hair was sobbing uncontrollably, desperately hugging the body bag outside the morgue.
Beside her, a middle-aged man, his face twisted with anger and pain, was furiously punching one of the criminal agents.
"Don’t touch my daughter! You have no right!"
But his fury didn’t last long. Within seconds, several auxiliary officers who had rushed in after hearing the commotion ran toward him and pinned him to the ground.
The woman’s screams grew louder.
The tension in the room was suffocating.
"How did they get here, and who informed them?"
"Probably that security guard who found Camila…"
Ángel was furious. "Why did they attack the police? Do they realize Camila was murdered? This is a criminal case, and it’s not something they can control. An autopsy is a necessary measure. Don’t they want to find the killer?"
Camila’s mother, Lisa, became enraged. "Don’t try to reason with me. I won’t give you the right to touch my daughter!"
Larry stopped Ángel, who was about to step forward. "There’s no need to explain. Just take her to a cell for obstructing an official investigation. If they had been good parents, they would have paid much more attention to where their daughter was late at night. She’s dead now—accept it. Even if she wants to use her status as a woman to cause trouble, she won’t do it now."
While Lisa was distracted by the commotion, several security guards from the center took advantage of the moment to quickly push the body bag into the autopsy room, closing the doors behind them before Camila’s parents could react.
Larry, Masuka, and Max walked together toward the locker room, with Ángel following closely behind, accompanying the injured officer.
Once inside, they quickly and efficiently cleaned and bandaged the wound. Larry barely paid attention to the procedure—his mind was processing every detail of the case.
When they finished, he lifted his gaze toward the injured officer and spoke firmly. "Notify your sergeant, Doakes. I want you to investigate the relationship between this couple and Nicolás’s parents."
But at that moment, Larry paused, as if a thought had just taken shape in his mind. "Wait… Since we’ve investigated these families, let’s investigate them all, thoroughly and without oversight."
The room fell into a heavy silence. Masuka and Max exchanged glances.
"Also," Larry said coldly, "we need to verify each person’s alibi individually, minute by minute."
He turned to Ángel with a somber expression.
"I have a feeling the killer is right in front of us."
The weight of his words fell upon the team like a heavy stone. No one dared to argue.
