My Beauty Variety: Starting from Banshee Town

"How about it?"

Back at the police station, Hank immediately asked everyone questions.

"Some clues have been found." Antonio walked to the whiteboard with something in his hand.

It's almost completely covered with photos, and there's not much room left.

He simply tore off all the photos of those who were killed and placed them on the table nearby.

"Dominique's inmates were visited nine times in total."

Antonio posted the two photos in his hand: "He made four phone calls, all to this person."

He tapped one of the pictures: "Rolo Mirares."

In the photo, there is a Colombian with short hair and a circle of tattoos on his neck.

"The situation of Mirares has been clearly investigated. He is the leader of a Colombian gang. His whereabouts are very difficult to trace."

"Multiple violent crime and murder charges."

He moved his hand to another photo and said in a deep voice: "This is Muñoz, the deputy in this gang."

"Hey guys."

Rusek ran up the stairs holding a sketch and interrupted Antonio: "I've finished the puzzle here."

"It can be sent to the whole city and he is wanted."

"let me see."

Hank reached out and asked for the sketch.

Unexpectedly, Rusek held the paper without moving at all.

"Give me."

Hank frowned and waved to him.

"No need." Rusek crumpled the sketch paper in his hand and threw it directly into the trash can.

Amid everyone's puzzled looks, he walked up to the whiteboard.

"Bang bang."

Rusek excitedly tapped the photo on the whiteboard twice: "This person is the arsonist pretending to be a homeless man."

"Are you sure?"

Ethan also walked over and looked at Muñoz.

There is also a circle of tattoos on his neck, and a short black beard connects from the temples to the chin, making him look very capable.

"One hundred percent."

Rusek nodded, indicating that he remembered correctly.

In this case, there is no doubt that the gang headed by Ramirez is definitely the one who gave away the eight million US dollars to the criminals.

“Scatter their photos to departments across the city.”

Hank immediately knocked on the table and said: "Train stations, bus stations, and airports must all have their wanted information."

"Inform all your informants as well."

While others started to get busy, Ethan stood motionless in front of the whiteboard.

There was a question that he still couldn't figure out.

How did these Colombians grasp the situation of Novak's people?

They can't keep watch outside the bank around the clock. These people are violent and cannot do such delicate work.

The Colombians must have learned the whereabouts of Novak's people through some method.

Then they have to grasp the time of their robbery very accurately, so that they can act quickly and kill Novak in one go early the next morning.

"what's on your mind?"

Hank walked up to him and asked.

"Is there a possibility?" Ethan took down a lonely photo from the corner of the whiteboard and flicked it with his fingers:

"Is there a second mole in this matter?"

The sound was not loud, only Irene, who was sitting nearest, heard it. She quickly stood up and walked over quickly.

"No way."

She looked at the person in the photo and said in surprise: "Gonzalez, didn't you say that he didn't have any motive to do this?"

The photo Ethan held in his hand was that of the security guard who was hiding in the office when the robbery occurred.

He looked honest on the outside and showed his true emotions at the time.

"Snapped."

Ethan slapped the photo hard to the whiteboard: "We overlooked something, and that's a good actor."

This sudden movement attracted the attention of others.

"We think he has no motive, but that doesn't mean he has no motive." Ethan looked at the photo of the security guard and said:

"He's Colombian, too."

Looking at Hank, Ethan continued: "It's only been two weeks since he joined the company. We definitely have reason to suspect that Mirares arranged for him to go in and follow up on the robbery at any time."

"And he was acting so sad that we overlooked one small detail."

"He has only been on the job for two weeks. Is it necessary for him to be so full of emotions?"

After listening to his analysis, everyone frowned.

The two people who survived at that time were both insiders, and they were on different teams. This was a game of Mission: Impossible!

Erin quickly walked back to the table and picked up the case file:

"I asked for his home address at the time. After the shooting yesterday, Gonzalez must be resting at home."

"Found it, here."

"Assign the patrol to go and keep an eye on it first." Hank told Irene, and then waved to Ethan: "Let's go, let's go, no matter what, we must confirm clearly."

Before the two of them could sit down, they hurried out again.

Watching their hurried departure, Irene picked up the phone to contact the patrol officer, and others began to busy themselves with their own affairs.

Case handling requires a multi-pronged approach, and when conditions permit, one road cannot be blocked.

Soon they arrived at the address Erin said. A patrol car had already parked on the side of the street.

"Bang."

Ethan closed the car door and walked over quickly.

"Sheriff, detective."

Atwater and Burgess got out of the car. The former nodded to Hank and pointed to a house next to him:

"Nothing has been out of the ordinary since we came here."

"There's no one coming in or out either."

"Okay." Ethan pressed the handle of the gun and walked quickly through the front yard and onto the porch.

The people behind him followed one after another, and Burgess subconsciously stood sideways on the steps, looking wary.

It looked like she had written down what she said the last time she tracked her phone.

Smiling at her, Ethan waved and knocked on the door.

There are five points of light inside, and cartoon sounds come from the windows.

One of the light spots quickly moved towards the door, and Ethan tightened the grip of his gun.

"Click."

The door opened, and a little curly boy looked at them with wide eyes: "Who are you looking for?"

"Hi."

Seeing the two children sitting in the living room, Ethan released his hand from the gun handle: "Hello, we are the Chicago police."

"Is your father at home?"

"We want to talk to him about what happened yesterday."

"Daddy, someone is looking for you."

The little curly-haired boy shouted upstairs and ran back to the sofa quickly.

They stood outside the door, waiting quietly.

Soon, footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Gonzalez came down from the stairs.

When he noticed the person coming, his steps stopped for a moment, and then he walked quickly to the front door: "Hello, what can I do for you?"

"I have sent the surveillance video to the email number you provided."

"Yes, we have received it."

Ethan looked at the thick-browed Colombian and smiled: "But you still missed something."

"For example, how did you contact Mirares."

"Or, could you please tell us where he is?"

When he heard the name Mirares, a flash of panic flashed in Gonzalez's eyes, and he asked doubtfully: "Excuse me, who are you talking about?"

"Da da da da~"

Ethan waved his hand to interrupt him: "I'm tired of hearing these words, here's something new."

"I know you're a good actor."

"But if you're not sure we won't come to your door, give me some respect, okay?"