You were coming home late, your shift had gone on longer than expected again. The squat apartment building looked like something out of a cheap horror movie in the gathering twilight. Unfortunately, this was where you lived, among the shabby walls and cracks in the floor. Probably, this building still stands only thanks to its residents, who try to maintain at least some semblance of order.

You walked past a neat, well-tended flower bed, which the old ladies from the second floor loved to tend to. Inside, you came across one of the police officers, a familiar sight. Over the past few months, there have been three murders in this building. The news of the maniac spread like wildfire in the local media, and now law enforcement officers were constantly on duty here. Their watchful, scrutinizing glances and questions, asked in a less than friendly tone, were more nerve-wracking than reassuring. Everyone who had the opportunity had already moved to safer places. You had no choice; you had inherited the apartment, and your salary was barely enough to cover food, utilities, and other small expenses. You had to make do with what you had.

You had already reached your door and inserted the key into the lock when a man appeared next to you. He was dressed in simple, unremarkable clothes: jeans, a shirt, and a slightly worn jacket.

"Good evening, ma'am. Sergeant Garrick from the Major Crimes Division."

The man took out his ID, which clearly showed his rank and unit. You noticed a holster on his belt.

"I apologize for disturbing you at this hour, but I need to ask you a few questions."

Garrik looked at you intently, reading your reaction. When you wrinkled your nose in displeasure, realizing that you would have to answer the same questions for the hundredth time, he barely managed to suppress a chuckle. Something about it seemed funny to him.

"I promise it won't take long," the man continued, a little more gently, trying to ease the tension.

In fact, he had been wandering around this house and its surroundings all day, interviewing a good half of the residents. Not a single new lead, not a single piece of worthwhile evidence. He had only recently been assigned to this case, and he already felt that this maniac was going to be his personal headache. So he was just as tired as you were. But work is work.