Animal Whisperer: Take Back My Life and Love Chapter 430: A Digital Signature

"Since when are you an expert on underwater welding?"

"My god, spotting a difference that tiny. That level of observation is terrifying."

Simon’s gaze remained fixed on the interlacing metal patterns, his tone calm and certain.

"The killer's technique and the habits of a standard maintenance crew are fundamentally different."

The moment the words left his lips, his father’s face flashed in his mind. He remembered James helping him assemble a model ship years ago. His father had been filing down a joint, speaking casually as he worked.

"When you weld underwater, the current fights your hand, the mask kills your vision, and even your breathing rhythm messes with the torch."

James had pointed at a simulated weld on the model with a finger stained by metal shavings. "A weld pattern is like a signature. No two people leave the exact same mark."

Simon pulled himself back to the present and met the astonished gazes of his team.

"My father taught me that. He was in the Marines."

The Marine Corps was a high-intensity environment that demanded years at sea. After James and Tammy married, he had transferred to criminal investigation to stay closer to his wife. Though being a detective was just as grueling, he was at least stationary, allowing him to actually protect his family.

The team’s respect for Simon only deepened. "That is incredible. That kind of experience is like a family legacy."

Simon brought the conversation back to the task. "Since they aren't legitimate ship engineers, it is highly likely they are intimately familiar with a different type of vessel, illegal modifications."

The team had a collective moment of realization. "Exactly! Only veterans who spend their lives modding ships on the black market would master underwater welding to this degree of proficiency."

"They risked killing three coast guard officers, and the execution was surgical. This wasn't a random act. It was a silencing operation by an established criminal organization."

Another member added, "The Seabed-173 either stumbled onto something they shouldn't have or was targeted for revenge."

Simon nodded, his finger tapping the two weld patterns on the screen. "We have their signature. Now, we need to investigate one thing."

He scanned the room. "Pull every enforcement record involving illegal ship modifications in this sector over the last five years. Find the data on every impounded vessel. Then, compare the welding marks on those hulls."

As he spoke, Simon's eyes lingered on a frozen frame of Nancy’s video feed.

"If the patterns match, we have our killers."

In the reflection of the screen, Nancy’s face was visible, mirroring a silent, shared understanding between them.

The team moved with lightning speed. "Comparing weld marks requires an expert. I will get authorization to have engineers examine the welds on every impounded vessel immediately!"

Another member hung up the phone, his expression grim. "I just checked with the Coast Guard. They have seized over forty illegal ships in this area over the last five years. Comparing weld patterns is a millimeter-scale job. Relying on a few engineers to check them one by one will take forever."

Simon remained unruffled. He looked at the image of his sister communicating with the dolphins, a trace of pride in his eyes.

"Humans might not be sensitive enough to catch these minute differences. But some experts are naturally attuned to patterns and traces."

Simon dialed a familiar number. "We are ready to officially request support from Nancy."

At this moment, they were no longer on the same track as the teams back in the conference room still polishing their reports. They were gripping a live lead and heading for a total breakthrough.

…

Nancy was currently surrounded by gulls fighting over fries when her phone rang.

She picked up to hear Simon’s clear voice. "Nancy, we need to compare metal textures left by underwater welding. We need it to be as precise as possible."

"Welding patterns?" Nancy’s eyes lit up after hearing the explanation. She blurted out the answer immediately. "An octopus is your best bet!"

An octopus had eight arms, and every suction cup was packed with hypersensitive nerves. Their ability to perceive fine textures far surpassed human fingertips. They were the recognized geniuses of the ocean, blessed with incredible memories and a talent for solving complex problems. They were nature's own forensic specialists.

Nancy looked out at the vast sea from the deck, scratching her head. "The only problem is their territorial nature. They are strictly sedentary. They hide in rock crevices or caves and refuse to leave their dens. Finding enough of them to cooperate on a short deadline is going to be a challenge."