Earlier in the day we had hit on a link between the Death Fingers, a little known group that had been operating in and around Mount Qingcheng at the turn of the 20th century, and Agent Di's 89178 network.
First thing I picked up a worn paperback and flipped it open; two small yellow post-its fell out from between the pages — first "Eyes Unhide Art, Emei", second "Found Nirvana; Sanxingdui Trickle". I pocketed the notes and looked down to note a hard cover copy of "Hidden Gold— Navigate Chevreul," a maybe Cantonese translation of a biography of Michel Eugène Chevreul, had been under the paperback. Meaningless to normal perceptions.
A compact disc player was still spinning; the speakers played back nothing but static and crackling sounds. Popped open the lid to reveal "Black Phone Vomit" was the last album that the perp must have heard before they were taken away. Two more albums, undisturbed, sitting beside it: Dog Hide Rock Crew's "ini Brain," and Jinsha Able's "Mask Pineal".
The kitchen cabinets were mostly empty, but notably there were five cans of some specialty coffee: Crane Leshan, French roast. Rice biscuits, Blue label canned peaches, brown sugar, soy sauce.
A pan of grease on the stovetop. Cheddar cheese burnt into the dirty grill.