My Beauty Variety: Starting from Banshee Town

"Adrez Diaz."

Antonio found the photo of Ba Zhao from the database and printed it out. Irene and Horsted confirmed that it happened to be the person who opened the door for them.

He pulled a white board and placed it in front of the Sheriff's Office.

Pasting the photo on the whiteboard, Antonio wrote the name with a marker: "Dual Colombian and American citizenship."

"Nickname: Octopus."

"Julie and I came into contact with him five years ago when he was a street thug trying to figure his way up."

"That's right." Hank sat on a table:

"I remember his name. Did he kill two people?"

"Yes."

Julie took over: "Two key witnesses were killed."

"Did he develop the habit of beheading at that time?" Erin opened a pack of snacks, stuffed potato chips into her mouth, and crunched them.

Ethan noticed the way Hank looked at him and turned his pen calmly.

"No."

Julie shook her head: "It should be a new method he learned later in Colombia."

"What kind of player is he?"

Horsted grabbed a handful of potato chips from the bag in Erin's hand: "Which neighborhoods does he usually hang out in, and where can we find him?"

"This is where the problem lies."

Antonio stamped his pen and clicked on Ba Zhao's photo: "He does not belong to any gang, and few people know his specific situation."

"He's just in it for the money and the violence."

Ethan leaned back in his chair, put his feet on the table, and stared at the person on the whiteboard.

In appearance, this octopus looks a bit like the legendary Colombian tycoon Pablo.

Although Ethan has just arrived, he also knows that people without a fixed territory are the most difficult to deal with.

"Now I know the name." Hank clapped his hands:

"Everyone, get involved and contact your informants. I suspect it's a fight for the exclusive product market. There will definitely be news on the road."

After several other people got busy, Hank walked to Ethan’s table:

"Come on, let's go for a walk."

The Cadillac SUV was speeding through the streets of Chicago.

"Basically, we rely on informants a lot of the time." Hank turned the steering wheel and said:

"These people can be prostitutes, drug addicts or even people on the street."

"Through a certain exchange of interests, we can obtain effective intelligence faster. The bureau will have a fund to buy informants every year."

"Of course, it doesn't have to be money, sometimes favors also work."

"We are going to meet one of my informants now. He is the leader of a local black gang. He should be helpful."

As the vehicles move, the neighborhood environment gradually deteriorates.

The ground is littered with trash and street vendors are everywhere.

Soon we arrived under a viaduct, and the subway whizzed past from above, which was quite beautiful.

It's a bit reluctant to say it's a subway.

The Chicago subway is very unique, mostly running on ground and mid-air viaducts.

There are relatively few sections that actually travel underground.

In some sections, trains even run between high-rise buildings. Office workers sometimes raise their heads and see the subway rumbling past.

"Let me do the talking."

Hank stopped the car and took out the key: "You just have to watch."

Next to the tall bridge pillars, there are several old sofas, and a few old black men wearing flowered headscarves are sitting on the sofas talking and laughing.

There is an upside-down plastic basket in the middle of the sofa, with bottles of beer and a radio on it.

From the radio, loud gangster music came from the radio.

"Hey."

Hank swaggered over and said hello: "How are you doing, Maurice?"

Seeing someone approaching, the gang members with uniform patterned turbans exposed under their peaked caps first touched their lower backs, and when they saw the person coming, they quickly put their hands down.

"Let me guess."

A big man in black leather clothes stood up and said in a dull voice: "Leif is dead?"

Hank smiled and nodded slightly.

"A person who doesn't know how much he weighs and wants to be the boss."

The big black man named Morris put one hand in his trouser pocket and said mockingly: "These idiots want to run before they even learn to walk."

"Which independence trafficking group is he cooperating with?" Hank kept looking around.

"Who is this guy?"

Morris pointed at Ethan and asked warily: "I have never seen him."

"It has nothing to do with you."

Hank raised his chin: "You just have to answer my questions."

Morris glanced at Ethan, his eyes flickering. After hesitating for a while, he said, "People from Colombia."

Hank asked: "Have you ever heard of the name Ba Zhao?"

"No."

"Who among Leif's men will know the situation better?"

"There is a man who works as a distributor for Leif, a white man named Cooper. Maybe he knows something?"

"Surname or first name, tell me his name."

Morris spread his hands and said with a smile: "Please, I can't take away all your fun. You always have to do a little work, right?"

"Do I seem to be joking with you now?"

Hank lowered his face and said coldly: "Three teenagers overdosed to death on soda. These people have gone too far. I need to cut off this line."

"Eric Cooper."

Morris shook his head and said the name helplessly.

"Thanks."

Hank fist bumped with him and turned to leave.

"Wait a minute." Morris stopped Hank and then glanced at Ethan.

Hank pressed the car key and the Cadillac lights flashed:

"Go back to the car and wait for me. Contact Antonio and ask him to find Eric Cooper's address."

After looking at the two of them, Ethan turned and walked towards the car.

He had already added the contact information of his colleagues in the group. After getting in the Cadillac, Ethan immediately called Antonio.

By the time he finished the phone call, Hank's matter was also finished.

After leaving the viaduct and finding a quiet place, Hank stopped the vehicle again and lit a cigarette.

He knocked on the steering wheel and said:

"It's not that I didn't trust you just now. I didn't let you participate in some things to save you from trouble."

"Phillips told me you have a stake in an Aboriginal casino, right?"

"That's right."

I don’t know why he suddenly mentioned this, but this is an honest business, and he is not afraid of anyone investigating.

"I know you have money."

Hank took out a bundle of money rolled into a cylinder from his pocket: "But you are one of our own, and this is the share I give you."

"That Morris just accepted my protection, and I will also provide him with some conveniences."

"In addition to Morris, there are some other people who pay me some fees every week."

Hank untied the rubber band that tied the money, counted a wad of money and handed it to Ethan:

"This is five points. You and Olinsky are the same. There are many people sharing this money. I am ten points. Don't be too little."