Harry had finally confessed-out loud, no less—and the thrill mixed with shock left Hank almost lightheaded.


    Harry had killed nine people, but the cops had only ever recovered eight bodies.


    Jason had called it: the very first victim was still missing because Harry had hidden the body.


    The game wasn''t over yet. Hank kept up his performance, still acting like he was writhing in pain.


    Truth was, Harry''s knife hadn''t even broken skin. The blood in Hank''s mouth and soaking his shirt was all fake. He and Jason had nned it all out, knowing Harry''s twisted methods. Hank was wearing a protective vest under his clothes- something straight out of an old detective movie. The blood? Just movie prop stuff.


    It was all a setup to make Harry confess on tape. Hank had a discreet earpiece with Jason listening in and recording everything from a van nearby.


    This was the kind of evidence that would finally bring Harry down.


    "You''re insane," Hank whispered, his voice shaky with fake fear. "You killed nine people? But the police only found eight bodies. You''re lying. Are you just trying to scare me? The cops are too good to miss a killer like you."


    Harry, already on edge, snapped. "The cops are useless. I told you I killed nine!"


    Hank kept the pressure up. "Then where''s the ninth body, huh? If you want me to believe you, you gotta show me. Otherwise, for all I know, you''re just making this up."


    Harry blurted, "It''s under the concrete at my fish stall."


    Hank''s heart jumped. He finally had what he needed. Dropping the act, he got up and let out a huge sigh. "Man, you finally cracked. I was about to lose it!"


    Pretending to be a wounded woman, while covered in fake blood, had tested Hank''s acting skills to the limit.


    Harry stared at him, dumbfounded. "Wait-you''re fine? But I stabbed you!"


    Hank pulled out the fake padding and protective vest from under his shirt and tossed them at Harry. "Here, keep ''em if you like. Now


    you''ve got two options: turn yourself in, o''ll haul you to the station myself."


    Harry''s face twisted as he realized he''d been yed. "You''re—a cop?"


    Hank grinned. "Took you long enough."


    Harry''s eyes zed with fury. Seeing Hank alone, he lunged with the knife. “I''ll kill you!"


    But Hank didn''t even move-he


    didn''t need to. Jason appeared out


    of nowhere, kicked Harry straight into the river behind the stalls, then wade in, holding Harry under until he stopped fighting. He pped cuffs on his wrists and dragged him onto the muddy bank.


    Harryy there coughing and gasping, too weak even to curse.


    Jason just red at him, saying nothing-his reputation for being the strong, silent type well earned. Harry shrank away, defeated.


    Hank, grinning ear to ear, said, "Well, Jason, looks like all our hard work paid off. Harry confessed, and we''ve got the spot for the ninth body-under his fish stall, just like he said."


    Jason pped Hank on the shoulder. "Nice job. Quick thinking. I''m impressed. A promotion''s in your future, for sure."


    Hank rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Hey, I learned from the best."


    Jason nodded at Hank''s getup. "You really went all in. Now go wash that stuff off, call the team, and let''s get to work."


    "On it, boss!" Hank said, practically skipping away.


    Half an hourter, the police squad arrived at Harry''s fish stall. They pried up the concrete next to the ice chests, and, sure enough, found the dposed remains of a young man, sealed under the b.


    The body had been there for a while. Between the fish guts and the constant smell of salt and scales, no one had noticed the stench-that''s what kept the secret hidden for so long.


    Even the toughest officers felt a pang of sadness. The victim was only in his twenties-his life cut tragically short.