North American Detective: I Am Proficient In All Kinds of American IAI

Outside the interrogation room.

Anthony, hands on chest, was waiting for Dean.

"Agent Anthony, you look a little tired and need a cup of coffee."

Dean greeted warmly, without the slightest embarrassment of having just beaten Anthony's men.

"The coffee here is not good." Anthony put down his hand and pointed to the LCD screen outside the interrogation room: "It seems that your injury is recovering well."

On the LCD screen, the process of Dean knocking down the two fools was playing back. He punched and kicked cleanly, showing his strength and speed perfectly.

"."

When is there an extra LCD monitor here?

Dean was thick-skinned, and changed the subject directly: "Harry said that you have requisitioned the interrogation room since last night, and it is not over yet. It seems that the interrogation is not going well?"

"It went well, but none of it was what we wanted." Anthony took out a document from the side and threw it at Dean: "Amodio committed all the crimes to Bill. This is the testimony."

Dean picked up the file and flipped through it.

The testimonial was written very sloppily, to the effect that:

When Amodio was in high school, by chance, he came into contact with the dark web.

Because of curiosity.

He sneakily bought some offbeat videos to watch.

not long ago.

Bill found him suddenly, threatened him with the purchase records of those videos, forced him to commit three crimes, and provided full criminal guidance.

besides.

For Lucifer Game Organization.

Amodiou said that he was just a puppet who was persecuted and was also a victim. Now his heart has been greatly traumatized, and he doesn't know anything about the damn game organization.

It's no wonder Anthony said it wasn't what they wanted.

Dean put down the file: "If these testimonies are used to testify, how long will Amodeo be sentenced?"

"Amodeo provided the chat records of Bill threatening him. If the judge accepts these testimonies and pleads guilty, he will change from a principal criminal to an accessory criminal, and the sentence will not exceed ten years."

Anthony wearily produced a cigarette and lit it.

"And he still has some money in his family. Although Amadeo cannot be released on bail, there are many ways to reduce his sentence. From my experience, Amadeo will not be in prison for more than five years."

so short

Dean also took out a cigarette and started puffing.

Three fresh human lives, in the end, only the prisoner received less than five years in prison.

It's very American.

And in the prisons here, those who have money and those who don't have money are completely treated differently, not to mention that there are a large number of private prisons.

However, these have nothing to do with Dean.

He is not a person who hates evil, and he came here just to ask Anthony for more information about the Lucifer Game Organization.

Amodio did not speak.

On Anthony's side, there is also the harvest from Bill's family.

Just when Dean wanted to ask.

Anthony spoke first: "I thought you would ask why we were so gentle with Amadeo."

Dean shrugged. "Well, why?"

The FBI doesn't break the rules as much as their police department.

They have many ways to make ordinary criminals lose their citizenship, and after that, criminals are no different from pigs and dogs, and they can be manipulated by others.

So the current situation is not normal.

Anthony stomped out the cigarette butt: "You can tell by looking at the observation window. In another hour, we have interrogated him for twelve hours. We must hand over Amadeo to you and leave."

And this?

Dean was curious, so he walked to the observation window and looked inside.

In the interrogation room, there were only two people.

One was a thin, blond, white young man.

He lowered his head and couldn't see the expression on his face clearly, but his bound hands had already shown his identity.

This is Amodio, the game apostle chosen by Bill, code-named Katz, and a rich second generation in Los Angeles. His family wealth exceeds tens of millions and he has a small amount of capital.

Dean didn't expect him to be so young.

Beside Amadeo, sat a middle-aged man in a suit and gold-rimmed glasses.

There was a black briefcase under the man's feet, which looked like a lawyer.

He sat next to Amadeo.

Even though there were only the two of them at the moment, they still held a pen in one hand and a notebook in the other, and there was a recording pen hanging directly on their chests, giving people a meticulous demeanor.

"The FBI interrogated the prisoner, and still let the lawyer be present?"

Dean looked at Anthony suspiciously.

This is outrageous.

Anthony refilled another cigarette with a melancholy expression: "The man sitting next to Amadeo is a full-time lawyer for the Los Angeles Truck Association. He was invited by Amadeo's father."

"Excellent?"

"Not great, but troublesome."

Anthony's sunken brown eyes were full of dissatisfaction: "The truck union affects a lot of votes, so the chairman of the guild has a good relationship with many congressmen. Although they can't directly influence our FBI, they can influence those congressmen and our direct superiors!"

"He didn't say a word, and that damn lawyer is present again, so we can't use many methods!" Anthony sighed.

The FBI is really good.

But the boss said hello, but he didn't make a move.

"How about it, Anthony." Dean crossed his hands and pressed his fingers: "I will help you solve the little trouble in front of you. If it is convenient for you, give me a share of the harvest at Bill's house."

"are you serious?"

"Of course, if you agree, give me twenty minutes."

"OK, happy cooperation!"

Anthony originally agreed to Dean's coming, but he wanted to use the unfair facts in front of him to stimulate him, a young man, so that he could accept Dean later.

Now that Dean suddenly offered to help, Anthony would naturally not refuse.

Regardless of success or failure, you can observe Dean's methods up close.

Anthony lowered his head, muttered twice on his collar, and the door of the interrogation room opened in response: "Go in, Dean, as long as you don't do anything, you can do whatever you want!"

"etc."

Dean took out his pistol from behind, disassembled it, fiddled with the parts, reassembled it, and then inserted it carelessly into his waist.

"Okay, remember to turn off the monitoring and recording for me, and turn it on again when it's critical." Dean raised his eyebrows at Anthony, and then walked into the interrogation room.

Hear movement.

Amadeo still lowered his head.

The middle-aged lawyer glanced at Dean and calmly picked up his watch: "You still have fifty-seven minutes. If you exceed this time, I will file a lawsuit against your FBI branch!"

"Feel sorry."

Dean reached out and dragged the long table on the other side to the lawyer and Amadeo: "I'm not from the FBI, but a psychological counseling therapist."

"Hey, what's going on here?"

The lawyer showed anger on his face: "My employer doesn't need psychological counseling!"

Amodio, who kept his head down, heard the exclamation of the lawyer beside him and the dragging of the table, and couldn't help raising his head, sizing up Dean with his bloodshot eyes.

He wasn't as nervous as a lawyer.

The FBI's helplessness made him sure that the organization did not break its promise.

His father didn't have the ability to find a full-time lawyer from the Grand Council when the election was approaching!

"In his testimony, he said that he has suffered a lot of trauma and we need to give him an assessment." Facing the lawyer with a bad look, Dean explained softly.

"Then what are you doing by pulling the table over!", the lawyer was talking, when he suddenly saw the interrogation room's surveillance system, which had been turned off at some point, and immediately realized that something was wrong, his voice withered away.

Dean's tone was still soft: "Don't be nervous, Mr. Lawyer, as a professional psychological counselor, I need a table with some common psychological counseling props, isn't it normal?"

During the conversation.

He placed the pistol, blade, nail polish, a small packet of fine needles, and seven or eight sheets of fine paper in front of the two of them one by one.

This time.

Amodeo, who was still calm, choked up his saliva subconsciously.

Something seems wrong.

"The conditions are poor and the things are not well prepared. Please forgive me." Dean put his hands on the table and looked at the two with a friendly smile: "Who of you wants to be the first to enjoy my psychological counseling treatment?" ?”

Over chapter.

There is another chapter at around eleven o'clock.

Today is the first day I go out. Are eggs so expensive now? Ten eggs cost fifteen yuan and four peppers cost four. I want to lay my own eggs.