At nine o'clock in the evening, the LVPD has faded away from the hustle and bustle of the day and is as quiet as a coffee shop.
A few on-duty officers from the bureau were chatting at the reception desk.
A black police officer who was as strong as a bull joked to Holden,
"Your buddy, you are not young anymore, you are handsome and have a good job. It is time to consider finding a wife to get married. Otherwise, the house will always be deserted. Don't you feel lonely?"
Holden shrugged his shoulders, disapprovingly,
"Where can women find interesting work? Don't you think the sense of accomplishment in finding the murderer from a complicated mystery is more satisfying than the climax!"
"Listen, everyone, are these human words?" Another police officer glared at Holden as if he were a monster, then stretched out his hand to squeeze his biceps, "You are not wearing human skin?" Machine, right?”
"I'm not just a machine, I'm also a master of prophecy." Holden followed his words and smiled mysteriously, looking at the dark night outside the gate, "I guess someone will surrender tonight, and it's the same case that Gerrich is responsible for. related."
"Haha, this is so specific. Did God give you a dream last night?" The black man laughed loudly. "You must be right. I will cover all the lunches for the rest of the month."
The Negroes soon shed blood for their generosity.
Less than half an hour.
A man with a hooked nose, wearing a thin black shirt, with hunched shoulders and an uneasy expression, as if he had been severely frightened, entered the police station and spoke to the receptionist's surprised gaze,
"I want to surrender, I killed someone!"
…
trial room.
The man who surrendered himself was handcuffed.
Gerich, who came overnight, took out the transcript, and another team member turned on the recording equipment.
"Name."
"Barrett Quinn."
"age?"
"32 years old."
"Where to stay?"
"Jenny's Apartments 7-12, North Las Vegas."
"Mr. Barrett Quinn," Gerrich put down his pen and narrowed his eyes. "I ask you to think about it again. Are you sure you committed suicide in Room 2-21 of the Gowan Hotel at ten o'clock two days ago?" Mr. Jayne Harden is dead?”
His attitude is quite bad. This case has almost locked in the suspect Joan Catree, and yet such a troublesome thing pops up at this juncture, overturning their past efforts.
"Aren't you drunk and talking nonsense to me? This is the police station, please be serious!"
"I didn't drink." Barrett raised his head and looked directly into the eyes of the two of them, with a decisive tone. The disease that once stuttered was cured without medication.
But he closed his hands and put them on his forehead, with bloodshot eyes appearing, and recounted the crime process with regret on his face, and answered all the police's questions.
The whole process was conducted in an urgent tone, as if he was not coming to the police station to surrender, but to receive relief food.
"I didn't want to kill him, I just wanted to make a joke."
…
"You are an adult, and you know very well that this kind of behavior is much worse than a joke, a prank, or peeping, and is no different from murder!" Gerrich's eyes became solemn, "Why did you do this?"
"See those pictures?"
Gerich flipped through a few photos and his eyelids twitched, "Are you still stalking and secretly filming Joan Catree and Jayne?"
"I have a crush on Joan." Barrett took a deep breath and looked up at the detective, her eyes red, "So I'm jealous of Jayne who is dating her."
"Every time they go on a date, they go over the top, pervert, and go crazy!"
He raised his head and knocked on the interrogation table with both hands, spittle flying everywhere.
"And I, a little transparent person, can only hide in the closet and peek."
"There's nothing fair about this opposite treatment and I'm going crazy with jealousy."
"Jayne put on an 'undefended' posture and put his neck on my knife, and the idea of taking action suddenly came to my mind!"
He paused, lowered his head and choked with sobs,
"My hands and feet became inoperable and I hurt him... wu wu..."
He cried into his arms.
…
Gerrich checked the transcript.
"Why are you surrendering now? Your conscience has discovered it?"
Barrett stopped crying and stared into the void. His red and swollen cheeks twitched, and the huge panic flashed in his tear-filled eyes.
Because Jayne's ghost came to see me.
He said in his mind, but he couldn't explain it this way, otherwise he wouldn't survive the next day.
As a last resort, Barrett Quinn could only find a great excuse for her despicable behavior.
"I heard from my colleagues that Joan Catree, who was wrongly accused, may be sentenced to more than ten years in prison."
"My goddess is innocent." His swollen cheeks were full of tenderness, "She has nothing to do with the case, and she does not deserve such a terrible punishment."
"So I'm here." He raised his head expectantly and asked eagerly, like an infatuated lover. "Can she leave? Can she regain her freedom?"
"If you didn't lie just now, she is not guilty."
"Then, will I be sentenced to death?" Barrett wiped away his tears and asked nervously,
"There are circumstances of surrender, but it is not worthy of the death penalty. But whether you had premeditated it or not requires further investigation."
Gerich served him a cup of steaming coffee, shook his head and sighed,
"Impulsive crime due to jealousy."
"Because of my love, I suddenly woke up and surrendered. It's really a third-rate love story."
…
Holden, who was listening outside the glass window of the interrogation room, had a hint of sarcasm on his lips.
"This guy really dares to put gold on his face and sacrifice himself for love. How great. But no matter what, this case should be almost over."
Holden looked at his companions beside him,
"Congratulations, Dean, you successfully bypassed the cumbersome legal procedures and handled the matter beautifully without killing anyone. You are an outlaw!"
"Outlaw? That's a good nickname...I'll accept it." Dean, who had released his disguise, changed out of Jayne Harden's baggy oversized blue suit and put on his own black suit. But there were obvious traces of sweat on his slightly tired face, and the simulated pain was still shocking.
Holden asked again, "What kind of magic, hypnosis, did you use on him? Don't say it was because of love. Even patients suffering from Alzheimer's disease cannot believe this ridiculous excuse."
"What did I say before? Soul," Dean couldn't tell the truth and exposed his second ability to mimic, so he could only find an excuse, "I used Jayne's blood to summon his ghost to Paris. Let them talk face to face for an hour in Wright's apartment. It seemed to work well."
"How fun is it to have the murderer confront the victim's ghost?" Holden's lips trembled and his eyes shone. "You are such a genius. Has Barrett been scared to the point of peeing?"
"More than that, he cried for his mother." Dean couldn't help but grin. During today's action, he seemed to have turned on a switch that had been hidden in his heart for a long time, and a certain evil taste was fully aroused.
Using "mimicry" and "shadows of the past" to pretend to be a scary ghost, watching the murderer be scared to death and then surrender, is more interesting than killing someone with a gun to the head.
Superpowers are not just for showing off muscles and fighting and killing.
"Man, look in the mirror, you smile like a pervert." Holden raised his eyebrows.
"The same goes for you." Dean's face became solemn, he straightened his collar, winked at him, and walked out, "Holden, you already know my secret. You got on the pirate ship. Don't let it out."
"Don't worry, I'm not a fool. I don't want to be locked up in a mental hospital." Holden's face flashed with light and he looked at the stars in the night sky and swore solemnly, "Whether it's a psychic or Gru Stone's last time Even if Satan threatens to throw me into hell, I will keep it a secret for you. This is my promise."
The experience of these two days was like a dream. He had been wasting in the normal human world for decades, and today he finally stepped half-foot into the supernatural world. All of this was due to Dean.
"What Gru Stone, I don't understand?" Dean's face darkened.
"Relax, you didn't leave any evidence at that time, and I'm on the same side as you. I think the cannibal family should all deserve to die, and the law can't try these rich people, and can't give them the death penalty. You did the right thing. !”
"But I still say the same old thing, I hope you can grasp the balance between order and madness, and never cross the bottom line, otherwise you will miss sooner or later."
Dean's eyes looking at Holden instantly became as dark as an abyss,
Suffocation and depression jumped out of the air like beasts, showing their sharp claws.
But Holden just smiled calmly,
"Let the past be bygones. Now can you give me some guidance on the medium's ritual?"
Dean punched his temple, sighed, opened the door of the Bronco on the side of the road and got in.
"You can't learn. The talent of a psychic is extremely rare. It only occurs once in tens of thousands, or even hundreds of thousands of people. But unfortunately, you are not among them."
"I haven't tried it, how can you be sure?" Holden got into the passenger seat and said with a smile,
"Then let's go to room 2-21 and give it a try."
…
The next evening.
Dean received the news that the case had a result. Barrett Quinn was imprisoned in the detention center, while Joan Catree was released on bail, and was basically on the verge of being exonerated.
Farland Law Firm.
Lawyer Luc Will, client Joan Catree, detective Dean, and "assistant" Holden gathered together.
Lucwei shook hands with the two of them with a shy belly and a smile on his face.
"Well done. The efficiency of your work is beyond my imagination. The remuneration agreed in the contract has been paid to your account. I will also help you with the tax issues."
Dean's lips curled up slightly. He earned a total of ten thousand dollars in three days. This money came faster than robbery.
"Dean, Lucville told me everything. You saved my life and career."
Joan Catree's eyes were filled with excitement, and she stepped forward and gave him a strong hug.
Full of fragrance, the plump and plump touch made Dean slightly absent-minded and his eyes turned——
The freed girl is no longer as pale and haggard as she was in the detention center. She has delicate light makeup on her face, and her skin is delicate and glowing white.
Under the black one-shoulder dress, her snow-white wealth and pert buttocks are looming, and her toned thighs are shiny and sexy.
In the moment when Dean lost his mind.
The seductive flaming red lips suddenly came to him again and forced a kiss.
Put a touch of red on his lips,
"I will always remember your help, um...I will give you a 50% discount in the future, um, I haven't dated an Asian yet."
Joan Catree breathed hot air into Dean's ear, put a small piece of paper into his palm, scratched it, and winked playfully, with a charming smile on her face.
Dean smiled slightly, quietly crumpled the business card into a ball of paper and stuffed it into his suit pocket.
You have to spend money on a date, are you looking down on him?
"Ahem..." Holden, who was observing next to him, had subtle eyes.
"I almost forgot about you, sir. You also contributed a lot." With a charming smile, Joan politely stretched out her hand to shake Holden's hand.
"What are your plans next, Ms. Joan?"
"I can't stay at the Gaowen Hotel any longer. I'm going to find another base to find another job." The woman wrinkled her nose and was still frightened. "I will reduce the scope of my business and will never touch dangerous 'games' in the future. To avoid another accident."
"a wise decision."
"Well, you three, see you next time! I'm waiting for you to come!" The escort girl blew three kisses towards her, twisted her waist, and left the office gracefully.
The three men slowly looked away.
A reminder flashed before Dean's eyes.
Event - Hotel Mystery, progress is 100%.
You use your psychic abilities and profiling to discover the real culprit, and then "pretend" to get him to surrender.
You flexibly got rid of the rigid legal shackles and cleared Joan's reputation in just three days.
Event completed.
You can withdraw your rewards at any time.
extract!
Experience +60
Lv3(140→200/400)
…
"Dean, signing a contract with you is the most correct decision I have made this year. But how did you do it?" The barrister's wise eyes flashed with confusion, "I have been in this business for more than 20 years, and since then I have never seen criminals turn themselves in overnight, as if they were brainwashed."
Dean smiled and said nothing.
Seeing this, Lucville stopped asking any more questions.
"It was a pleasure cooperating with you this time, but I admit that I underestimated your talent." The barrister raised his coffee cup towards him, "If we continue to cooperate next time, I guarantee that you will get more matching remuneration."
"Then we benefit from each other." Dean smiled and clinked a glass with him.
You can gain experience and make money at the same time, so why not do it.
Saying goodbye to the lawyer who was in a good mood, Dean left the office and got into a car on the roadside. He took out a knife in his pocket and handed it to Holden beside him with a wave of his hand.
"What do you mean? Bribe me?" The latter pushed the money back.
"Without your help, this case wouldn't have been solved so quickly. This is the hard-earned money you deserve. Take it." Dean turned the steering wheel and the car slowly drove onto the road.
"I don't need to support a wife and children, so I don't need so much money." Holden was determined, "You want to thank me for communicating with me more about supernatural news and helping me solve cases?"
Regret flashed across his face, and last night's attempt made him deeply understand that he was just an ordinary person.
But it doesn't matter, he has extraordinary friends. The ability of psychic is tailor-made for police detectives. It can be used to solve cases without any disadvantage, so it must be used!
"Psychic medium Dean, I'm here to help you at any time." Dean took back the money and threw him a chocolate bar to fill his stomach. "You happen to be hungry too. Come to my house for dinner?"
"Noodle?"
"Well, I don't know anything else."
"Dean, I'm warning you seriously," Holden moved his butt on the passenger seat with a fearful look on his face, "Don't put chili pepper on me this time, not even mildly spicy!"
Thank you to Prince Ximen for your reward and support! Thank you all for your monthly and recommended support!
(End of chapter)
