Had this thought. Inspired a bit by this (by @SparrowLucero).
In Xasan Rossi’s professional opinion, the four men had died quickly, but not kindly. Their blood, and other bits, now decorated the alleyway, almost obscuring the usual stink of piss and inadequate garbage pickups. Xasan knew it would smell even worse, once the sun came up. Unless the city decided to bring in the hoses to spray everything down. It’d play hell with the investigation, except there was going to be no need for one. Everybody knew what had happened here.
Xasan squatted down by the coroner anyway. “Hey, Ruby. Is this what I think it was?”
Ruby Jenkins gave him a shrug full of cynicism. “Well, Detective, we got four guys with scooped-out guts, broken necks, and one guy shoved into a wall so hard, he’s oozing down the side. I’d make a smartass comment about it being an suicide pact, except I’m out of those for the rest of the month. So, yeah, it was a Returner that did all this.”
Xasan stood up, offered her a hand; she took it, after stripping off the gloves she was wearing. Standing, she was about his height… which made her average for a woman. “Thanks. Hope you weren’t hoping for fingerprints. This Returner’s one of the ones who don’t have them.”
“I figured.” He had also figured it wouldn’t matter, anyway. It wasn’t tracking down a Returner for a crime that would be the problem. It was being able to do anything about it, once he did.