North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws-Chapter 52 - 51 Interrogation_1

Hospital corridor.

Lawrence was somewhat distracted.

Dean patted him on the shoulder. "What’s up, buddy? You seem preoccupied."

"It’s nothing." Lawrence snapped back to reality. "I just feel like you’re progressing too fast, and there’s not much left I can teach you."

"I owe it to you for giving me the chance to get ahead." Dean knew he had subtly taken the lead, making Lawrence somewhat uncomfortable.

Lawrence, on the other hand, didn’t give it much thought.

He shrugged. "Alright, you take charge of the interrogation later. It’s a skill a detective must master anyway."

"Thanks."

「...」

Because a homicide had been discovered, laborer Marcus was transferred to a private hospital room, with patrol officers guarding the door.

After offering a cigarette to the patrol officer on duty, Dean entered with Lawrence.

Upon hearing their approach, Marcus, lying in the hospital bed with sunken eye sockets, looked over weakly.

Dean pulled out his detective badge and then activated his law enforcement recorder. "Hello, Marcus, I’m Detective Dean. How are you feeling right now? We’ve got some questions we’d like to ask you."

There are many idiots in the United States. Especially with the trumpeted human rights activism, which has now become an untamed beast, cultivating a large number of naive bleeding-hearts, including many judicial civil servants sitting in offices.

Marcus was currently in critical condition.

If Dean wasn’t polite, a complaint from Marcus afterward would be troublesome.

Of course, if Marcus was uncooperative, Dean would make him understand what ’human rights’ truly meant!

He was not a man who played by the rules!

"Mr. Detective, don’t tell me you guys are starting to crack down on marijuana use now." Marcus said, with no hint of panic on his face, "If that’s the case, I admit it. I bought some illegal stuff, got too high, and then fell over."

"But someone said you stole furniture and appliances from the Shane family!" Dean fixed Marcus with a penetrating gaze. "We’ve looked into your identity and know you’ve been recently released from jail. Why were you staying at the Shane family’s house for so long and selling their furniture and appliances? Where are they?"

Hearing this, Marcus not only didn’t look panicked, but anger also flickered in his eyes. "That’s not my fault! They’re a bunch of swindlers!" freewebnσvel.cѳm

It turned out that more than a month before, Marcus had spent the money he’d made operating a sewing machine in prison and was ready to find a job to earn a living. He had a criminal record, and regular jobs would vet for such things. So, Marcus could only head to the labor market to do temporary jobs.

Though he was only twenty-one, due to drug and alcohol abuse, he seemed slow to react, and by afternoon, no one had hired him.

Just as Marcus thought he would go hungry that day, Mrs. Shane arrived. After learning that Marcus could fix pipes and do weeding, she took him back to her villa.

The Shane family’s yard wasn’t large, but because it was already afternoon, Marcus still hadn’t finished the work by evening. At that time, Shane and his son were not at home. Mrs. Shane kindly offered him dinner and a place to stay overnight, for which Marcus was very grateful.

The next day, Shane returned with his son. After checking Marcus’s work, he praised him and mentioned that the villa’s roof also needed repairs. They were planning a two-day trip and asked if Marcus could stay an extra two days to help with it after the pipe work was done.

"I was really short on cash and didn’t have a place to live, plus they seemed like decent folks, so I agreed. But they never came back!" Marcus’s face was full of anger. "I did my part and never got what I was owed! I even watched over their house for free for so long! If I hadn’t sold the furniture and appliances, I’d have no money to live!"

Dean gave Lawrence a meaningful look. Though they hadn’t discussed it beforehand, Lawrence immediately understood what Dean meant and said mockingly, "Then why didn’t you call the police at the time to protect your interests, instead of staying?"

"Call the cops?" Marcus turned his head disdainfully. "When those pigs show up, do you think they’d go looking for the Shane family, or would they assume I was breaking in and shoot me dead? Besides, I was homeless already. Isn’t it comfortable living in a villa? Detective, sir, don’t waste your time. If I’m guilty, let the law punish me, not you, you butcher!"

Marcus adopted a defiant stance. "Anyway, I was just honestly staying in the room the Shane family provided, and I only sold their furniture and appliances to get what I was owed. Even if I go to jail, His Honor, the merciful judge, will at most give me a short sentence or community service. That’s even better; at least that way, I won’t have to worry about food and clothing!"

This guy was a slick old pro.

Lawrence’s face twitched with anger. Glancing at the medication nearby, he sneered, "Well then, Mr. Marcus, you seem to be recovering quite well. I’ll instruct the nurses to reduce your supply of prescription drugs."

These words directly hit Marcus’s weak spot.

His expression changed. "Buddy, don’t do that! I admit I went a bit too far just now. Whatever else you want to ask, I’ll cooperate!"

After his release, he’d relapsed into marijuana use, and without the relief of prescription drugs, lying in a hospital bed would be excruciating for him!

Dean had been watching Marcus’s expressions the whole time. Under emotional stress, it’s hard for most people to hide their true reactions. So far, it seemed Marcus hadn’t lied.

Lawrence had played his part as the intimidating one; now it was Dean’s turn.

Dean stepped in front of Lawrence. "Alright, buddy, go outside and have a smoke. I’ll handle this."

"Hmph!"

Lawrence shot Marcus a venomous look and left.

Once he was gone, Marcus’s tense expression instantly relaxed. "Detective Dean, you really are a good guy. I’ll cooperate with whatever you want to ask."

A slight smile touched Dean’s lips. "You don’t seem slow-witted at all."

Marcus shook his head, his expression dimming slightly. "That’s just with the support of prescription drugs. I can’t live without marijuana now. Otherwise, I’ll be like an old man who can’t control his body, looking like a wreck."

That’s drugs for you. Once you’re hooked, you fall into an abyss and are completely lost.

Dean certainly didn’t pity such people.

He aimed his law enforcement recorder at Marcus’s face. "Marcus, do you remember the date the Shane family left?"

"I remember. It was the end of the month because my favorite team, the Rams, had a game that day, so I remember it very clearly."

The Rams are Los Angeles’s primary football team. This hormone-fueled sport has a large following in the United States.

Dean nodded and continued, "While you were at the Shane family’s house, did anything unusual happen?"

"Unusual?" Marcus thought for a moment, then said hesitantly, "I was off my meds at that time and wasn’t feeling well. I was worried they’d kick me out, but all four of them seemed preoccupied and didn’t notice my condition. They left in a hurry."

"Okay, thank you for your cooperation. If we need anything else, we’ll be back in touch."

"No problem, Detective Dean, as long as it’s not that butcher who comes."

"Haha." Dean laughed, stood up, and headed to the door. He was about to turn off the law enforcement recorder when he suddenly turned back. "By the way, Marcus, did you like the Shane family’s dog?"

"Dog?" Marcus, taken aback by the sudden question, responded instinctively, "I only ever saw photos of a puppy and some pet supplies at their house, but I never actually saw a dog."

Is that so...

Dean nodded, turned around, and left.