North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws-Chapter 600 - 337_2

After saying that, he rallied and went off to get busy with his colleagues.

Dean was fine when not discussing cases, but whenever a case came up, Holz felt a pressure, as if his professionalism was being crushed when facing Dean. He occasionally doubted, Might this young guy, so well-versed in criminal psychology, actually be a pervert himself?

...

When Holz arrived, Dean greeted him, then led away the two junior officers who had handed over the camera, and left the basement.

This method of killing isn't something a novice could achieve, Dean thought. The murderer must be very familiar with human anatomy and proficient in pharmacology. The scene appears intact, yet it bears no directional traces. Staying here is just a waste of time.

However, even the cleanest crime scene was no obstacle for someone like Dean, who was highly intelligent and, in his own way, twisted. He already had a detailed profile of the murderer in mind. There's no such thing as a perfect crime, only the theoretical perfection of not being convicted. No matter what, once something is done, even without leaving the slightest trace, it can't prevent an expert from deducing the information they need from the outcome. For instance, the victim truly is the lawyer, Barnaby. This indicates Barnaby was attacked right after leaving the police station. The murderer has been watching him all along!

Barnaby was the lawyer for the deceased old landlady and was himself involved in the despicable business of acting as an accomplice in extortion. The fact that incidents befell them both, one after the other, inevitably makes one wonder about the story hidden beneath, Dean mused. Additionally, this basement is clearly Barnaby's private sanctuary. An excellent lawyer, meticulous and logically rigorous—these are essential professional traits. Yet, under these circumstances, his sanctuary was breached, and he even died in his own secret place. This suggests the murderer might be an acquaintance of Barnaby, someone very, very familiar with him. The rats, sustenance medication, and so on, are all items that required preparation well in advance. All this tells me this homicide is a targeted, serial retaliatory killing.

The old landlady had been laundering money for the HuaQing Gang. Yet, despite her having been dead for so long, the HuaQing Gang seemed indifferent. They had even, ostensibly, begun dealing with the Chinese pharmaceutical front for her money-laundering channels before her death. All these abnormal responses indicate the HuaQing Gang, the power behind the landlady, must know something! The HuaQing Gang is the breakthrough point in this case!

...

Back on ground level, Dean offered a few complimentary words, promising to mention the assistance of the two junior patrol officers once the case was closed. Then, he bid farewell to the two poor souls, whose spirits had clearly taken a hit from what they'd witnessed—they had been little more than convenient helpers.

He had Lawrence go to the property management company to request surveillance footage of the community roads. As for the HuaQing Gang, Dean would have to handle that himself.

"With Harry and Carlo hospitalized, we're seriously short-staffed," Dean sighed, starting Carlo's beat-up sedan as he prepared to leave the community.

Because of the massive explosion, the once quiet community now had many residents who, having stayed home from work, saw that the police had secured the scene and there was no further danger. They had all come out to watch the commotion. Dean had no choice but to slow down.

As he drove past the house where the party had been earlier, his gaze involuntarily swept over it, and then his brows furrowed.

Perhaps because the explosion had drawn a crowd of onlookers and reporters, the once bustling house and yard were now deserted. Only some uncollected messy tableware, snacks, and desserts remained, testifying to the recent festivities.

But that wasn't why Dean frowned. He frowned because he noticed that inside the large house, every window, on both the first and second floors, was covered by heavy curtains. It was deathly still; not the slightest sound came from within.

Dean's hearing was extraordinary. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

This isn't right!

..

After a moment's thought, Dean took out his phone and called Hawk, the bald patrol officer. He asked Hawk to find a reliable informant to make an anonymous tip-off call to the police station from a public phone booth, and to bring some backup. This was already a high-priority patrol area for the precinct.

In less than ten minutes, Hawk arrived with two police cars. He greeted Dean enthusiastically, then said with a hint of excitement, "Buddy, I heard about the explosion here. Too bad I wasn't on patrol in this area, or I'd have been here sooner. Have you found something unexpected?"

Dean nodded and pointed at the building in front of them. "There was a group of young people having a rather improper and very lively party here earlier. Now, the situation seems a bit off."

Hearing it wasn't related to the explosion, Hawk was slightly disappointed but still nodded. "No problem. I've already had someone call in a report about this place. And since the guys patrolling this sector are short-staffed, my officers who were already nearby also took the call. Watch this."

With that, Hawk gestured to the officers beside him.

In an upscale community, entering someone's home without authorization, even for police, could lead to a difficult situation. However, if there was a report, allowing them to investigate, it was a different matter. This was flexibility in handling cases.

The two responding officers nodded, switched on the rather crude, assembled bodycams on their shoulders, walked to the front door, and rang the bell. "LAPD..."

After several rings, there was no answer from inside. The two officers looked to their boss, Hawk, and to Dean, who stood beside him.

Dean walked over to the house's electric meter, glanced at it, then gestured for the two officers to find any excuse to force entry.

These two officers, regulars with Hawk, were also slick veterans. One of them, facing his bodycam, pretended to sniff the air with a puzzled expression and said gravely, "I think I smell blood. Reporting to the command center, preparing to break in..."

With the formalities handled, the two burly officers aimed for the door lock. After failing to kick the door open after several attempts, they smashed a nearby window and climbed in, guns drawn.

The next moment, cries of alarm erupted from inside the house: "FK! FK!"

There really was a situation inside!

Hearing the shouts, those outside quickly rushed forward, weapons drawn. They crowded around the window, peering through the gaps between the officers who had just entered, and beheld a horrifying sight:

From the ceiling, countless thin lines dangled, suspending naked young people in mid-air. Like items meticulously arranged on a platter, their lifeless male and female bodies had been assembled into the shape of a massive, obscene finger angrily pointing towards the sky.

Lawrence rubbed his eyes, his own filled with horror. "So many dead... this is going to be huge!"

Dean was equally horrified. Among the suspended bodies, he recognized many young faces he had seen earlier.

But how could this be possible? Dean wondered, aghast. Carlo and I only passed by here about two hours ago. And now, just two hours later, it's become this?

A quick scan revealed no fewer than twenty bodies.

How did the killer, in such a short time, lure everyone into the house, kill these young people, and then arrange them into this suspended state?

He knew that because of the explosion, reporters had been swarming the area, and some community residents who hadn't left for work were also milling about. It would have been incredibly difficult for the killer to use machinery. How did they do it?

Subconsciously, Dean's mind flashed to the murderer of the victim in the basement. Could there be a connection between the two cases?

...

This scene was far beyond what Lawrence could handle. After entering the house and taking in the suspended 'artwork,' the officers present all turned to Dean.

Lawrence said anxiously, "Dean, a lot of reporters have infiltrated this community. If news of this gets out, we'll be under immense pressure."

Dean nodded. "Everyone report up your chain of command. First, let's figure out how to clear out these reporters. Let the higher-ups deal with the headache."

There were too many dead. Moreover, these victims were all children of wealthy, well-connected families.

「Half an hour later.」

The entire community was locked down. Not only had personnel from the Detective Bureau and the local precinct arrived, but several high-ranking officials, accompanied by FBI agents who had caught wind of the situation, also led teams to the scene, placing the community under a partial lockdown.

The previously high-and-mighty property management company also made an appearance. An ashen-faced, middle-aged Asian man,