My Beauty Variety: Starting from Banshee Town

Hank befriends the head of the Mafia.

Olinsky's words made Ethan stunned, but he quickly reacted.

This kind of thing is normal.

That guy Boyt has been living in Chicago for decades. It would be strange if he didn't know a few famous people. He hasn't dealt with people with special professional backgrounds.

People like Rebecca, Matt and Sandro.

Matt, in particular, supported Sandro to help him establish an independent trafficking network and help him suppress his competitors.

What I do is also on the edge of darkness.

cough!

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but scratch his face.

The things you do yourself don't count, it's called taking people's money and helping others to eliminate disasters.

mafia.

This name can be said to be well-known. At its peak, it reached members of Congress and street vendors, and its influence penetrated into every corner of the country.

The energy was so powerful that during World War II, it could help the Allies quickly break the situation on the Italian battlefield.

Of course, the current strength has faded a lot.

But they should not be underestimated.

However, those people will not admit that they are the mafia. Even within the police, they use the term "family" or "gang" to describe them. They are all criminal gangs with Italians as the main backbone.

"you mean."

Ethan thought for a moment and tapped the handle of the gun on his waist: "Shall we go directly to the other party to ask for someone?"

"That's right."

There were only two of them here, and Olinsky also said bluntly: "Believe me, this is a good way to avoid the expansion of conflicts sometimes."

Hearing this, Ethan chuckled.

This is the first time I have done this kind of thing, and it feels a bit like collusion between police and criminals.

Before he could speak, the phone in his trouser pocket vibrated.

What a coincidence.

It was Hank who called.

"Let me guess." Ethan answered the phone and said meaningfully: "Are you here for the luxury club?"

"Did you really do it?"

The other side was quiet for two seconds, and then Hank's hoarse voice sounded: "Take the case file and come to my office for a chat."

Looking at the hung up phone, Ethan laughed.

Unexpectedly, Hank's phone call came before he even called. Antonio was right, there was indeed a big shot behind this strip club!

Only a short time after returning, the other party had already found Hank.

"rest assured."

Seeing Olinsky's worried eyes, Ethan shrugged and said, "I know what to do."

From Hank's office, it quickly moved to the car.

After understanding the case he took over last night, Hank immediately decided to take Ethan to a place. Just like Olinsky said, it was equivalent to directly asking for someone from the other party's boss.

This way of solving crimes is quite easy.

After wandering around for more than ten minutes, we stopped in a neighborhood where Italians gathered.

There is no signboard.

There was no name. There were only a few strong men sitting at the table playing cards at the door. They looked ordinary.

"We all call it the Social Club."

Hank did not rush forward, but stopped next to Ethan: "There should be no conflicts here as much as possible. Most of them are old-school characters. They don't look like much but they are very influential."

"When I have nothing to do, I often come here to play poker."

Still feeling uneasy, he emphasized again: "You should know what we are here for, right?"

"rest assured."

Ethan slapped Hank on the arm: "I only want the person who killed Watson. As for the gang behind it, I am not interested. That is the trouble of financial crime and organized crime."

"But a little."

He spread his hands and said seriously: "It's the real murderer, not just someone to fool me."

"certainly."

Hank nodded and took the lead to walk forward.

In fact, this method is similar to finding an informant. After getting some clues, you can get the suspect's information from the Taoist elements.

However, the former requires them to pay some money.

The latter means that things cannot be expanded.

Following Hank, he walked into this so-called social club and glanced at the few people playing cards at the door. These people had bulging waists, and it was obvious that they were all carrying firearms.

Inside, is a restaurant.

This is just a pretense, no strangers will come here to eat, it is mainly for club members.

Cross the corridor and push open the wooden door.

"Hey, asshole."

Before I could see what was going on inside, I heard a thick Italian accent: "I don't remember anyone calling 911 here. You can smell the sliver smell from far away."

"Actually, someone hit me."

Hank smiled and walked to an old man wearing a red sweater: "Someone said that you can't stand up and need a helping hand."

As he spoke, he bent down and gave the other party a cheeky salute.

"All right!"

The old man sat in a wheelchair, shook his head and said, "You are still so good at talking."

There are star posters posted in many places on the wall, old-school movie stars such as Marlon Brando, Marilyn Monroe and Audrey Hepburn. Ethan only recognized these three famous people.

The chess and card room was filled with smoke.

The smoke of cigars filled the air everywhere, and many people around the round tables were playing cards, chatting and laughing from time to time.

These people are all older.

To put it bluntly, Ethan felt like he was in a middle-aged and elderly club.

The old man who greeted Hank just now seemed to be in his seventies or eighties. The familiarity with which they greeted him should extend to the friendship between Hank's parents.

Most of them have the same characteristics. They all have a strong Italian accent when they speak, and they all have big noses.

While talking, he couldn't help but make gestures even while holding playing cards.

That alone.

It can be concluded that the vast majority of them are Italians. Despite the potbellied appearance of all of them, Ethan can feel that there is no good person among them.

Of course, neither myself.

He looked at others.

Others will naturally look at him. This is a social club, and the presence of a stranger will certainly attract attention.

Eyes fell on Ethan from time to time.

There is curiosity and fear.

More hostile.

But the hostility disappeared in a flash, and when he met Ethan's gaze, he lowered his head in horror.

The bald manager they had just parted with was standing in the corner of the room. He actually put on a splint and a bandage around his chest to hang up his left hand. His face was also red and swollen, and he would not recover in ten days and a half.

Ethan smiled and followed to the round table next to the bald manager.

"Hey."

Hank smiled and said hello to the silver-haired man sitting inside: "Carlo, how does the coffee taste?"

The other party is in his fifties.

Wearing black-rimmed glasses, he was holding a small cup of coffee and tasting it carefully.

The body is wide, stretching out the gray suit.

The whole person looked like he was calm and confident.