midnight call almost always meant one thing: chaos. Grabbed my coat, keys, phone—the usual trip to the mess.

The victim’s place was downtown, an older apartment block where the hallways smelled faintly of damp and cheap disinfectant. Got buzzed by the duty cop, young kid with eyes like he’d seen too many nights in.

greeted me at the door, breathless, holding a coffee cup like it was hot lava. “Unit 14, this is,” he puffed, fumbling with the keycard, “Detective Li. You’re about ten minutes late.”

“Why’s that?”

“Place’s a vault,” he muttered, finally getting the lock open. “Cleaned out, Detective. Real clean.”

公寓楼道光线昏暗，走廊尽头那扇门敞开着，一股混杂着灰尘和某种……血腥的味道直扑脸。客厅里一片狼藉，电视柜翻倒在地， посуда разбросана по всей комнате, 能动的东西几乎都被砸坏了。

我皱眉，掏出手机开了灯。果然，比那部电视剧里演的还乱。搭档老赵踱进来，抄起地上的遥控器比划，啧了一声：“行啊，嫌犯不仅偷东西，还带帮忙装修的？”

我走过去，目光扫过客厅。抽屉都被拉开，书架的书籍散落一地，简直像被狗熊翻过一遍。但奇怪的是，除了壁炉旁边那个破旧的保险箱被撬开，其他什么贵重物品都没少。钱包、首饰盒，甚至电视——虽然屏幕碎裂了，但主机还插着电。