It was supposed to be Dige Li's night — the contemporary artist turned social activist had prepared for months for this act of defiance, a performance that would send shockwaves through the art world. Kensington Gallery Stage was packed, with an audience well over a thousand. They watched, captivated by the immigrant artist’s latest piece, titled "Consumption", where Dige ate a bat from the flea markets of Wuhan.
As he bit into the bat, the audience erupted into murmurs—some in awe, some disgusted. At first, it was a high pitched shriek at the front of the audience. Then, horror rippled through the crowd when Dige collapsed, convulsing. He was dead before he hit the floor.
Detective Abernathy stood over Dige Li's dressing room, tension thickening the air as he mulled over the details.
Chair Clen was the obvious suspect. She was a stereotypical asian student in the 3rd year of her PhD. The rivalry between her and Dige was legendary in the art world. Chair had suffered a string of career setbacks, all of which coincided suspiciously with Dige’s rise to prominence.
She was a highly respected regular at Kensington Gallery, even given access to areas restricted to others, like the dressing rooms. But it wasn’t just professional jealousy that pointed to Chair. There was something darker. Chair had lost her husband and mother to COVID-19. The grief had left her shattered. Her art became increasingly fractured.
When Chair was brought in for questioning, her response was cold.
“I didn’t kill him,” she said flatly, her eyes hollow. “But maybe he deserved it. Stupid symbolism meets a stupid fate, go figure.”
She showed little emotion, her detachment disturbing, but she denied involvement. Her alibi was shaky at best.
Then there was Milly Kaykay.
On the surface, Milly seems like an impossible suspect. At only 26, her life was blessed by the fables of millionaire college dropouts, now running a mass manufacturing business with foreign labour from developing countries. She arrived at Kensington less than 3 weeks ago, and wasn’t ever the ‘artsy’ type. However, she developed a passionate anger at the obstacles to the expansion of her empire, fueled by a resurgent competition from Chinese state owned enterprises. She’d never hidden her resentment toward foreign industries, and immigration. Her social media posts were filled with thinly veiled political rants, and it was clear she hated the global market.
Rumors swirled about Milly's shadowy past—whispers of a ruthless crime, though no one could ever pin it down. Lately, however, her life had taken a downward spiral; her husband had left her for a younger woman, leaving her even more shrouded in secrets.
“I didn’t kill him,” she spat, “but that doesn’t mean I’m sad he’s gone. You don’t toy with things like that. People are dying, and he’s out here... playing games.”
The plot thickened with the discovery of a third clue—an anonymous tip. Detective Abernathy got word that Milly and Chair had met in the weeks before the show. Rumor had it, they shared a drink together at a nearby bar.