【エロ動画】The Sex Detectives, Season 1, Episode 3【アダルトAVアニメ・ゲーム】

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The Sex Detectives, Season 1, Episode 3の詳細情報まとめ。安全に無料動画視聴！

この作品は「英語」で作成された作品です。

## The Case of the Crimson Lipstick

The flickering neon sign of the Blue Moon Diner cast a lurid glow on the rain-slicked streets. Inside, Detective Inspector Ava Thorne nursed a lukewarm coffee, the bitter taste mirroring the sour mood settling in her gut.  Across from her sat Detective Sergeant Marcus Bell, his usually jovial face etched with a grim determination.  Their latest case, the disappearance of socialite Veronica Vance, was proving to be a thorny puzzle wrapped in a silk scarf and tied with a crimson lipstick stain.

Veronica, a woman known as much for her extravagant parties as for her equally extravagant love life, had vanished three days ago.  Her luxurious apartment, a penthouse overlooking the city, was impeccably clean, save for a single, vibrant crimson lipstick smear on a crystal glass.  It was a signature – a calling card – for a killer who, so far, remained elusive.

"Anything from forensics, Marcus?" Ava asked, her voice low.

Marcus sighed, running a hand through his already dishevelled hair. "Nothing concrete, I'm afraid.  The lipstick is a custom blend, apparently favoured by a handful of high-end cosmetic companies.  No fingerprints, no forced entry.  It's like she just…vanished."

Ava tapped a manicured fingernail against the table.  Veronica's social circle was a kaleidoscope of wealthy businessmen, aspiring actors, and dubious art dealers. Each one a potential suspect, each one hiding something behind a façade of glittering smiles and champagne wishes.  They'd interviewed them all, naturally, but the responses were a frustrating symphony of alibis and carefully constructed denials.

"The Crimson Kiss," Ava mused aloud, a nickname she'd coined for their elusive perpetrator.  "It's almost theatrical, isn't it? A deliberate taunt."

"Too theatrical for my liking," Marcus grumbled.  "It screams for attention, which suggests a certain…narcissism."

Their investigation led them down a rabbit hole of clandestine affairs, bitter rivalries, and simmering resentments.  They discovered Veronica had been entangled in a messy love triangle with renowned sculptor, Julian Thorne (no relation), and a rising film star, Damien Hayes.  Both men were charming, charismatic, and possessed the resources to make Veronica disappear without leaving a trace.

Julian, a brooding artist with haunted eyes and a penchant for dark colours, presented an air of detached sorrow.  He claimed he and Veronica had a passionate but ultimately tempestuous relationship.  He admitted to arguing with her the night before her disappearance, but insisted he’d been alone in his studio afterward. His alibi, while shaky, checked out.

Damien, on the other hand, was all polished charm and disarming smiles.  He vehemently denied any involvement, painting himself as a devoted friend, heartbroken by Veronica’s disappearance. His alibi was rock-solid, corroborated by his agent and several witnesses.

But Ava couldn't shake the feeling that something didn't quite fit.  There was a subtle shift in Damien’s demeanor, a flicker of unease behind the carefully constructed persona.  His flawless alibi, she suspected, was meticulously crafted.

A breakthrough came unexpectedly from a seemingly insignificant detail.  During a second search of Veronica's apartment, a small, almost invisible scratch was discovered on the inside of a locked drawer.  Forensic analysis revealed traces of crimson lipstick, identical to the smear on the crystal glass.  The scratch, it turned out, was made by a specific type of antique jewellery box, a piece Veronica was known to own.

This box, however, was missing.

They tracked down the box to a pawn shop in a less salubrious part of the city.  The pawnbroker, a shifty character with nervous eyes, confirmed selling it to a man matching Damien Hayes’ description.

The final piece of the puzzle fell into place when they found a hidden compartment within the antique box. Inside, nestled amongst velvet lining, was a small, elegantly crafted letter opener, its tip stained with crimson lipstick.  The handle bore the faintest imprint of a fingerprint.  A fingerprint that matched Damien Hayes.

Confronted with the evidence, Damien’s carefully constructed facade crumbled.  He confessed.  The disappearance, he admitted, wasn’t planned.  A heated argument, fuelled by jealousy and a potent cocktail of alcohol, had ended with him striking Veronica.  He’d panicked, disposing of her body and hiding the box, using the lipstick as a perverse signature, a chilling reminder of his deed.

The Crimson Kiss had been identified.  The case, though harrowing, was closed.  As the rain finally ceased outside, and the city lights twinkled once more, Ava Thorne sat back, the bitter taste of her coffee replaced by a quiet sense of satisfaction.  The game, for now, was over. But she knew, with a certainty that chilled her to the bone, that the city held many more secrets, many more dark stories waiting to be uncovered.  The work of a sex detective, she reflected, was never truly done.