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The police believed that no one would enter or exit the murder scene through the window.

Although the apartment building was not very tall, the property management was strict, with security guards frequently patrolling on segways, and surveillance cameras installed at every intersection. A break-in and murder seemed nearly impossible under these circumstances.

With no signs of forced entry through doors or windows, Gerald Graves was still the prime suspect.

Purple Summers gently pulled open a drawer of the dressing table. Inside were various cosmetics and jewelry, all cluttered together.

Clothes were strewn about the bedroom in disarray, with garments on the sofa, at the foot of the bed, and on the hanging rack. There were even a few bags filled with new clothes leaning against the wall.

Purple Summers thought to herself: The deceased doesn’t seem to have been a tidy person.

There was a large four-door wardrobe in the room.

Since the deceased, Delilah White, had been a model, she had a vast collection of clothing. One half of the wardrobe was completely stuffed, while the other side was relatively empty, holding only a few coats.

Purple Summers picked up a handkerchief from a corner of the wardrobe, rubbing it gently between her fingertips as she contemplated.

“Is there a problem?” Marcel Jefferson asked, standing closer.

“Not sure.” Purple Summers furrowed her brows, holding the corner of the handkerchief softly before saying, “It just feels…out of place for it to be here.”

“It is a bit strange…” Marcel Jefferson muttered, looking at the handkerchief. “Who uses a handkerchief these days? Don’t people just use tissues?”

Purple Summers replied, “Some people are still used to handkerchiefs.

However… those who prefer handkerchiefs usually have more than one, so they can rotate them for daily use.”

She scanned the surroundings and shrugged, “There’s only one handkerchief here.”

“Could it have been left behind by the murderer?” Marcel Jefferson scratched his head, finding it hard to fathom. “But why would the murderer bring a handkerchief to a murder? Could it have been originally in there, like…a gift that came with a clothing purchase?”

“It’s unclear.” Purple Summers held up the handkerchief and turned to the police officer, asking, “Can we take this with us?”

The officer kindly replied, “Technically, we shouldn’t. But Mr. Williams instructed us to accommodate both of you. I’ll file a report at the precinct. This place has been searched countless times, and taking one or two of the remaining items shouldn’t be a problem.”

If they were to strictly adhere to the rules, not only would taking evidence from the crime scene be forbidden, but inspecting the scene would also be off-limits, as Marcel Jefferson was a lawyer, not a detective.

Purple Summers placed the handkerchief into a self-sealing bag and continued to examine the room. All items with potential value had already been documented in the case files, leaving nothing of value in the room.

They left the apartment, and Purple Summers walked to the area beneath the window. The ground was a flat, well-kept green space with no traces of being trampled upon.

She looked up at the nearby trees and remarked, “The trees here are quite tall.”

A sudden thought crossed Marcel Jefferson’s mind as he said, “If the murderer escaped by climbing one of these trees, couldn’t they have avoided the surveillance cameras?”

The officer burst into laughter upon hearing this, “Unless they’re an acrobat who spends their entire life in trees, they’d still be caught on camera eventually!”

Purple Summers frowned and asked Marcel Jefferson after a moment of thought, “Can you climb up there?”

Marcel Jefferson stared at her, dumbfounded. “Me?!”

“Yes.” Purple Summers nodded. “Give it a try.”

Her eyes appeared somewhat expectant.

Five minutes later, Marcel Jefferson came down from the tree looking disheveled.

Unable to hold back his laughter, the officer said, “Mr. Jefferson, you really should work on your fitness!”

Marcel Jefferson’s face turned red, having only climbed about…fifty centimeters.

The officer was clearly much more physically capable than Marcel Jefferson, quickly climbing to the height of two floors before stopping. The thick tree trunk and lack of footholds made further ascension difficult. In the end, he was still a great distance from the fourth floor.

“How about we go check the surveillance footage instead?” Marcel Jefferson suggested sheepishly, “Or we could rummage through the trash bins…”

Anything but climbing trees again…