New Discovery

Back at the station, Jack brought the news directly to David.

David's face turned pale the instant he heard it. His eyes widened with shock and terror. He stood there, hands trembling slightly, as if the ground beneath him had disappeared. His voice was shaking, barely holding together."Officer... are you serious? My daughter... my Rachel... she was murdered?"

Jack carefully studied David's reaction. The shock and grief on his face appeared genuine—without a hint of pretense. And for a brief moment, even Jack couldn't be sure: Was David really the killer?

But as the investigation continued, the truth began to surface.

Officers at the crime scene had recovered a hammer and a pair of boots from the nearby woods. Despite the heavy rain two days prior, which had washed away most of the traces, they managed to extract a fingerprint from the handle of the hammer. Forensics confirmed—it matched David's. Even more damning, tests on the blade of the hammer showed traces of blood. The boots, after forensic examination, were also confirmed to belong to David.

These new pieces of evidence cast a dark shadow over the case. Clearly, the objects were tied closely to Rachel's death, and David had undeniable connections to each one.

Jack once again brought David into the interrogation room. This time, his voice was colder, more controlled.

"David," Jack said steadily, "we've found new evidence in your daughter's death."

David's face turned ghostly pale, his eyes now filled with dread and confusion. He seemed to realize how serious the situation had become.

"What else have you found?" he stammered. "You keep pushing me like this... I told you—I don't know anything!" His voice trembled, a clear sign of mounting pressure and a crumbling mental state.

Jack didn't respond immediately. Instead, he laid out the hammer, the boots, and the DNA report on the table in front of him. His eyes stayed fixed on David's.

"These are physical proofs that link you directly to the crime. Your fingerprints are on the hammer. The blood has been confirmed. The boots are yours. How do you explain this?"

David's gaze began to drift. His eyelids grew heavy, as if the weight of the moment was crushing him. His hands gripped the edge of the table, his body slightly shaking.

"I... I didn't kill her!" he whispered. "You're framing me... I don't know... I swear I don't know how this happened..." His voice trailed off, nearly inaudible, collapsing under the weight of his own disbelief.

Jack remained composed, his eyes sharp and unwavering."Your daughter found out you killed your wife. So you silenced her too, didn't you?"

"No, no, that's not true…" David suddenly shot to his feet, clutching his head in agony."No! I didn't kill her! I didn't kill Sarah! I didn't kill Rachel! You're all lying! You're trying to trap me! You monsters—you want to drag me to hell! I'll kill you all—"

His eyes were bloodshot, his hands flailing wildly. His voice turned shrill, unhinged—completely out of control.

Jack didn't flinch. He kept his eyes locked on David, even as the man broke down. Though his own mind was still filled with doubts and inconsistencies, the evidence now was enough to move forward.

"David," Jack said calmly, "I am formally charging you with murder."