He traced his fingers along the underside of the desk, and frowned when the traction was all too slick. Pulling back revealed what he’d feared; blood smeared on the tips of his gloves. 

“That makes thirteen,” Hakuba said, pulling off the pair with a sigh. “No body, no forced sign of entry, just blood in precarious places.” He turned to his companion for the case, one Kudou Shinichi, letting his shoulders sag in obvious disappointment. “Do you suppose this sample will match any of the others?”

If the blood found in the office buildings had belonged to one sample, it might be nothing more than a disgusting prank or threat, but the fact that the previous twelve had matched DNA samples of twelve independent sources – all of which happening to be missing people – spoke more of murder. Which is why the first division was called in, including the consulting half-brit, as an attempt to give Kudou someone more his ‘age’ to work with.

Unfortunately, clues had been few and far between, and they only ever knew where to look because of the mysterious notes delivered anonymously to the station in the morning. Day thirteen, another note, another drive to yet another large corporate building, and another desk with blood all along the underside of it, but no where else. 

An interesting mystery to be sure, but no less frustrating.