Case files sat open on Hughes' desk. He'd been going over their grisly contents since six that morning, hoping to find anything that hinted at who might be murdering State Alchemists. So far, nothing besides the state certifications and the cause of death was the same for all the murders. Blown-up from the inside. That's what all the autopsy reports revealed about these men's deaths. Half the victims' faces were unrecognizable, with their noses and lips missing and blood streaming from their eye sockets. As much as he'd seen in the war and in the last few years investigating violent crimes, he still hated looking at the crime scene photographs.

Suddenly, the phone rang, making him jump. Hughes answered it with some trepidation.

"Investigations Office," he said. "Lieutenant Colonel Hughes speaking."

"We got another State Alchemist," Colonel Douglas's voice came through the receiver. "Looks like the same killer as the others."

Hughes tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dry. "Can you identify the victim?"

"I don't think his own mother would recognize him. He's carrying a watch with the Führer's seal on it, though."

"Any identifying features? Is he in uniform?"

"No, he's wearing a three-piece suit. Looks like he was out for the evening when our killer caught him. Why don't you come down here and see for yourself?"

"I'll be right down. Where are you?"

Douglas gave Hughes the address and within five minutes Hughes was driving with Major Armstrong to the crime scene. He took several deep breaths trying to calm himself. It was almost certainly a coincidence that the crime scene was just a block away from Madame Christmas's bar and that the victim was dressed as if he'd spent some time chatting and drinking with beautiful women. Hughes had no reason to worry. Christmas's bar was one of the most popular hostess bars among military personnel. Half the State Alchemists in Central probably frequented it. Besides, Roy was in East City. Hughes had no reason to worry.

Hughes parked on the corner across the street from the alley where the murder had taken place. MPs milled about, taking pictures and collecting evidence. Upon seeing Hughes and Armstrong, Colonel Douglas came over and led them to the body. Blood had soaked through the white sheet and Hughes's heart quickened its pace and his ribcage seemed to stiffen.

"We figure the time of death was about 3:30 this morning," Douglas told them.

Hughes barely noticed Armstrong or the MPs as he extended a shaky hand and grasped the top of the sheet. He paused before pulling it away and silently counted to three. Douglas hadn't been exaggerating when he said this man was unrecognizable. They'd have to identify him by his dental records. Though his stomach should be churning at the state of this man's face, Hughes could breathe again. Whoever this State Alchemist was, he had light brown hair.

"Lieutenant Colonel?" Armstrong said. "Are you all right?"

Hughes placed the sheet back over the man's face and stood up. "Yes, I'm fine," he said, trying not to sound too relieved. The sheet still concealed a pretty macabre and tragic sight, though not the one he dreaded.

"We're asking around at the establishments nearby to see if anyone saw or heard anything," Douglas said. "So far it doesn't seem like it."

"That's not surprising," Armstrong said. "None of the others had witnesses either."

Hughes looked back at the body and exhaled. Now he could focus on investigating the crime.

Back at his office nearly two hours later, Hughes dropped the case files on his desk with a loud thump and, with a huge sigh, he sank into his chair. They hadn't found any reliable witnesses, but they'd at least figured out the victim's name and which bars he'd visited that night. Still no leads. Hughes couldn't wait to put whoever was responsible behind bars. Every time he got a call saying another State Alchemist had been killed, he held his breath and waited for the MP on the phone to tell him that Roy Mustang was dead.

Hughes needed a breather before he could stand looking at what he'd gathered today. He picked up the phone and dialed the Eastern Command Center and asked the operator to connect him to Colonel Mustang.

"This is Colonel Mustang," Roy answered. Suddenly the muscles in Hughes' chest loosened and he could breathe easily.

"How are you this fine morning, Colonel?" Hughes said cheerfully

Roy groaned. "Fine. Should I ask how you are or should I ask how your daughter is doing?"

"Now, now, I'm just calling to say hi. I wanted to make sure you're doing all right."

Silence.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Roy asked. Hughes could hear his friend's suspicious scowl.

Hughes paused to steady himself and continued with a slightly more somber tone. "Well, I'm still investigating that State Alchemist-killer. You're pretty notorious, so I'm sure you're on his list."

Roy chuckled. "Sounds like you have your hands full if he thinks he can go toe-to-toe with the Flame Alchemist."

There it was. That arrogance would get Roy killed someday, Hughes was certain.

"Listen, Roy, I'm serious. This guy has taken out some State Alchemists I would have thought pretty hard to beat. I wouldn't underestimate him."

More silence came over the line.

"Do you think I should be worried?" Roy said. He didn't sound afraid, but he seemed to understand that Hughes was.

"Don't worry too much. But maybe lay low for a little while in case he goes to East City. Maybe wear your gloves when you go out instead of keeping them in your pocket."

"All right. I'll be more cautious, if that'll make you feel better."

"Thank you. I'm already investigating eight murders and I don't think I could manage one more. Especially not yours."

After hanging up, Hughes stared at the closed folders. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before opening the file from this morning and reviewing its contents. The polaroid of the victim's mutilated face was clipped to the top, and Hughes tried not to look at it. Talking with Roy had comforted him some, but he still couldn't help picturing his best friend lying dead in the street. Crime scene photos weren't helping any.