While you were sleeping

Chapter 2. POV Ilgaz

"She woke up in hell."

"What?" Prosecutor Ilgaz Kaya lifted his head from the report he had been trying to study for the last quarter of an hour.

"That's what Hilal hanım, the wife, said, sayın savcım," the junior detective hurried to mumble. "I mean, that's her testimony. She, quote, "woke up in hell seeing blood all over the bed and walls, and no husband to be found anywhere."

Ilgaz took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The headache was killing him, all the letters just appeared a blurry line and his presence at the crime scene became more pointless with each second.

Of course, he understood all too well that it was all the only logical outcome of the sleep deprivation of the last month. Four weeks, three police officers wounded and several liters of bitter coffee - that's what it took them to catch a serial killer, who reappeared after a long period of silence. Or in better words, after a year of another man being wrongly imprisoned after a hasty investigation.

Even the possibility of such a thing happening was disgusting.

Of course Ilgaz had no illusions on the nature of humans, and legalists were no exception. Everyone made mistakes, and as long as those mistakes didn't affect the others they could be forgiven. Unfortunately for the system, their mistakes usually cost broken lives.

In twelve years of service to the country Ilgaz Kaya had the lowest ratio of cold cases possible, but even that wasn't good enough for him. Sometimes all the man could think of was that bunch of unsolved crimes to the point of spending hours over the documents he already knew by heart. He kept revising the evidence, the testimonies, trying to finally see something on those pages that he had foolishly overlooked. But no matter how much time passed, the files were as dead silent as all the years ago.

Probably some mysteries were destined to remain in darkness.

"Demir, can we go on without using metaphors?"

"What's a metaphor?"

"Never mind," Ilgaz sighed and looked around in search of his friend.

Needless to say, Eren was nowhere to be found. But of course, Ilgaz himself had sent the man to the apartment building's surveillance room half an hour ago.

Sleep was not even a need now, it was a must.

Ilgaz searched the surroundings one more time. It was a beautiful apartment, very clean and neat, full of light. All the things were meticulously in place, every kitchen towel had its own hanger, every spatula was color coordinated with the general kitchen palette.

Even for such a perfectionist as Ilgaz was, it was freaky. Çinar would have probably died on the spot considering his absolute inability to maintain even a basic order in his room.

Suddenly the knife stand caught his attention, and Ilgaz moved in the direction of the kitchen set. The stand clearly had five slots with only three occupied. Which, given the obviously obsessed nature of the owner, was extremely odd.

"Umut," he called the young police officer, "there are only three knives in the stand. As the body is missing, it's hard to say about the weapon, but don't forget to ask about the knives."

"Already did, savcım!" Umut was all but shining with pride. "I also thought it was rather strange, so I asked Hilal hanım," he looked at the protocol he was holding in his hands. "The smaller one is broken, and we've actually found the blade in one of the drawers, but the chef's knife is missing."

"Might be the murder weapon than," Ilgaz nodded. "Don't miss a spot, Umut. I'll go home, but call me with any progress. And as soon as you take Hilal hanım to the precinct, don't forget to contact the advocates collegium if she doesn't have a lawyer. Currently she is our primary suspect, so she will definitely need one."