Blood of Gato

Anna, Tommy, Sam, and Carl—all four detectives—sat together at a round table by the window of a little café. They leisurely sipped their coffee and awaited breakfast while discussing the latest developments in their case.

Sam leaned back in his chair, lazily stirring sugar into his cup, and was the first to break the silence. "So, listen," he said, taking a sip of coffee. "Recently, there have been several calls in the Raccoon area. Honestly, most turned out to be just ordinary domestic disputes. But one case stands out…"

He paused to ensure the others were paying attention and continued, "In one apartment building, someone called the police. Our team arrived to find signs of a struggle in the stairwell—blood on the walls and railings, even stains on the floor. But no bodies, not a trace."

Tommy, who had been absently poking his fork at the table, suddenly perked up. He pulled a worn notebook from his inner pocket, flipped through a few pages, and quickly found the relevant note. "Wait, you said the Raccoon area?" he asked, looking up at Sam.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, intrigued by Tommy's sudden interest.

"Got it!" Tommy quickly pointed to a page in his notebook. "Remember those teenagers who were beaten to death? A copycat case… Well, they were also from that area."

"What do you think? Is it a copycat, or is our real maniac back?" Carl asked grimly, thoughtfully stirring his spoon in his cup.

"I'd say both," Anna replied confidently, glancing at the waitress balancing a tray as she approached their table.

Carl smirked skeptically. "Where does that confidence come from? Please don't tell me it's just female intuition."

Anna smiled slightly at the corners of her mouth. "Not intuition, but logic," she replied calmly, setting down her fork and carefully moving her napkin to make space for her plate.

The waitress neatly placed their orders in front of them: a stack of fluffy pancakes with syrup and berries for Anna, an English breakfast for Sam, a toasted ham sandwich for Carl, and oatmeal with nuts for Tommy. They all thanked her, and the conversation continued, albeit a bit quieter, as the café grew livelier.

Anna poured syrup over her pancakes and, taking her fork, continued, "Our heart-loving friend recently left a message clearly indicating he doesn't appreciate the copycat's actions. And this is precisely the area where the copycat has already been spotted. Too many coincidences."

Carl shook his head, sipping his coffee. "Still, if we only had some evidence…" he muttered.

Suddenly, Sam, chewing on a sausage, recalled, "By the way, I recently talked to the patrol officers who were on duty there. They saw a white guy of average height entering the building that evening. But, damn it, they didn't even bother to check his ID—now it's impossible to identify him."

Carl sighed, pressing his palm to his forehead. "Why does everything always go wrong for us? Do they even open their eyes at work?"

Anna smirked and shrugged. "At least this supports my theory."

Tommy thoughtfully tapped his pen on the table. "So, it turns out there are neither bodies nor hearts—it's as if both missed their mark and didn't finish the job."

"I don't know whether to be relieved or not," Carl muttered, pouring ketchup on his toast. "It might have been simpler if one had taken out the other. Fewer maniacs and possibly more evidence."

Sam nodded, glancing at the bread in his hand. "And it would certainly make our lives easier. But so far, both are still at large."

Carl leaned forward. "Did the patrol officers notice anything else?"

Sam pondered for a moment, recalling details. "According to them, the copycat was in a hurry to get to a girl named Sophie. We checked—she really lives there. But the guy who was with her doesn't resemble the one we're looking for at all."

It was clear to both of them: time was running out. Their boss had been giving them stern lectures daily, and the phone in the department was ringing off the hook with calls from the mayor, who threatened to bring in the feds at the first sign of a new victim. Journalists, like hungry crows, circled the precinct, catching them on the street with the same questions. All of this was wearing the team down.

At that moment, Carl noticed a man at a nearby table, wearing glasses and reading a thick morning newspaper. A bold headline on the front page caught his eye: "Our City Now Haunted by a Monster: El Diablo Gato." Carl abruptly stood up, approached the man, and politely asked, "Excuse me, may I take a look at your newspaper? It's for work."

The man blinked in confusion but nodded and handed over the paper, mumbling something about troubled times. Carl thanked him and returned to the table, placing the newspaper in front of Tommy. He unfolded it for everyone to see the article. For a few moments, they stared silently at the large print, a growing anxiety building inside each of them.

Sam was the first to break the silence, cursing under his breath as he smacked his thigh. "Damn it! Those bastards spilled the beans! Now the whole city will be on edge…"

Anna reached for the newspaper with an expression as if she planned to tear it to shreds, but Tommy hesitated, and she snatched it from his hands. She skimmed the article, her lips tightening with each word.

"Look at what they're saying!" Anna read aloud, clearly struggling to contain her irritation. "In addition to the maniac, a monster is now at large in the city? The police are turning a blind eye and trying to hide the truth while citizens could be torn to pieces at night! Who is this new killer—human or beast? An angel sent to protect the innocent, or a demon simply satisfying its hunger? But one thing is clear—this beast and the maniac are doing a better job of ridding the streets of criminals than our dear police!"

She slammed the newspaper on the table, causing the cups to rattle. A shadow crossed Anna's face as she exhaled heavily, as if holding back a storm inside.

"I'll shoot that bitch," she hissed through clenched teeth, nearly breaking the fork in her hand. "Damn Kessy Van, that relentless pest! Always sticking her nose where it doesn't belong."

Tommy glanced at Anna with sympathy. He knew there was a long-standing rivalry between her and Kessy—they were like a cobra and a mongoose, always on the brink of open conflict. The others, having read the article, felt a tightness in their chests. All their efforts to keep the press in check had now gone to waste.

"Well, that's it; now the feds will definitely come," Tommy sighed, wearily covering his face with his hands. "The mayor will personally drag them here if needed."

Carl tapped his fingers grimly on the table, his gaze turning cold. "We need to find that blabbermouth who let this slip!" His voice was low and threatening.

"This is definitely someone from the newcomers," Anna chimed in, glaring at the headline. "The ones who can't keep their mouths shut and their guns in their pants."

Sam studied the article more closely, his finger lingering on a paragraph with a name. "It's not just our guy who's been talking," he said thoughtfully. "The article mentions a certain beauty—Mateo's girlfriend. This new monster's nickname is El Diablo Gato. Damn it, once the journalists latch on, they won't let go."

Anna pressed her temples, angry sparks dancing in her eyes. "We'll have to go to Kessy and talk to her directly. Or, for crying out loud, at least find out who from our team leaked this to her."

Tommy nervously cleared his throat, flipping through the newspaper. "Now we'll be under pressure from all sides—feds, the mayor, journalists, worried citizens…"

"And this monster," Carl added quietly, "is now on everyone's lips."

Sam stood up, fastening his jacket. "Alright, folks, let's get to work. I'll try to find out who among us can't keep their mouth shut. Anna, you go see Kessy. But no violence, alright?"

Anna nodded silently, her jaw clenched. They all knew the day was just beginning, and it promised to be a challenging one.