Life in North America, you call this an autopsy officer?!
Chapter 181 - 146 Investigation, New Obsession (Thanks to the book friend ’Soul Harvester’s Praise’ for the alliance leader!)

Chapter 181: Chapter 146 Investigation, New Obsession (Thanks to the book friend ’Soul Harvester’s Praise’ for the alliance leader!)

When it was time to part ways, Brian suddenly thought of something.

"This kind of case should involve officers from the vice squad, right?"

He quickly grabbed Rajag, "Rajag, are any vice squad officers here?"

The vice squad, in essence, is a group that cracks down on prostitution.

It’s a pretty good department to be in, at least in the bustling downtown area of Los Angeles, where they are not underpaid.

Rajag nodded and pointed at two men watching the assault scene.

"They are. Some of the female victims, it was them who helped provide the identity information.

But no matter how much they try to help, it’s not enough.

You know, often, some prostitutes are released before we can even get them to the station.

And because of the disgusting attitude of those vice squad colleagues, the prostitutes often distrust us, which is why we can’t fully ascertain the identities of the deceased."

Brian naturally understood the subtext in Rajag’s words.

The vice squad is a lucrative post and is known to be a department with major violations.

Officers often use their positions to generate income.

For instance, after catching a transaction, they might demand money from both the john and the prostitute and then let them go, so naturally, there won’t be any identity info for the prostitutes.

To generate income, the vice squad would also have female officers disguise themselves as prostitutes and stand on corners, waiting for unlucky clients to approach them in their cars.

The trust between people is just chipped away bit by bit by these assholes.

...

Although Rajag said it was useless,

Brian still sought out the two onlookers.

"Hey, guys, is there anything I can talk to you about?" Brian called the two aside.

It was probably because of that big bag he had before,

both of them were quite polite to Brian’s pretty-boy image.

"I’m Igley."

Igley was a tall, slightly overweight black officer, appearing to be in his thirties, with narrow eyes and thick lips, giving off the first impression more of a drug lord or gang member than a policeman.

"I’m Otto."

Otto was a white man, also in his thirties, with average looks but much more amicable than his colleague, even flashing Brian a smile as he introduced himself.

Brian nodded, "Fellas, are there many reports from prostitutes around here?"

He had previously worked in a high-end business, so he really wasn’t familiar with these matters.

The black officer, Igley, immediately shook his head, "Rarely, these bitches don’t like to deal with us, and to be honest, we don’t like them either, they’re poor, ugly, and troublesome. Sometimes, to resist arrest, they’ll even attack us with bloody tampons."

It was clear he really despised the prostitutes here.

Brian: "...You’re saying they still do business even when they’re on their periods?"

The other white officer, Otto, worried his partner’s bluntness might offend the young gentleman, quickly nodded and said, "Yes, most of these women are addicted to drugs, some even have children to support, and the competition is fierce. They don’t save much money, a day or two without work might mean going hungry."

Seeing that he couldn’t get any useful information, Brian had no choice but to drop the subject.

...

On the other side.

The beating also came to an end.

Everyone was a trained adult from the police force, natural at this, knowing how to control their strength, so they only caused superficial injuries to the foul-mouthed Peter, nothing serious.

A round of beating cured this fellow of his cynical world view.

Peter dared not say any more, and left in disarray.

Only when he was far away, did he pull out his phone and dialed the complaint line for the Internal Affairs Division of the NW.

Peter looked at his pitiful self in the rearview mirror, with hatred flashing in his eyes, "You assholes will get what’s coming to you!"

...

Green climbed into the car with Brian feeling pretty good.

"Woof~ (hungry)," Shi San, who had been inconspicuous up until now, let out a feeble cry.

"I know~"

Brian stroked Shi San’s head and tossed the keys to Green, "Buddy, take it for a bite to eat, get something for yourself too, I’ll find someone to help me look up that victim information."

Green took the keys, a little worried, "Boss Brian, won’t that Peter guy complain about us?"

Brian shrugged, "Let’s hope he’s not that stupid."

Thinking about their boss’s sometimes petty ways, Green, who understood all too well, shivered.

Good luck to that foul-mouthed guy.

...

Once Green had left.

Brian took out his phone and dialed a number.

After a moment, a woman’s scream and a man’s heavy breathing came from the other end of the phone, "Hey, Brian, long time no talk, I heard you don’t do side jobs anymore?"

"Yes, I’ve gone straight, Dos, the prostitutes around Ming Lai Street, whose gangs do they fall under?" Brian was unfazed by the noises on the other end of the line.

Dos was also a vehicle appraiser, but full-time, and dealt in business with freelance models, with a complex background and collaborations with many high-end venues; he was very familiar with the industry.

"I’ll ask for you when I’m done."

With that, the call was abruptly ended.

Brian found a bench on a street corner and sat down.

Based on what he knew about Dos, it wouldn’t take long.

Watching the busy crowd on the street, Brian quietly lit a cigarette.

This case was professional, with few clues left at the crime scene. The only hope was to establish the identities of the victims.

More precisely, to find their acquaintances.

This was related to the living environment of these streetwalkers.

In the United States, only a few agricultural counties in Nevada have what might be considered legal prostitution establishments, the rest are known as "adult entertainment venues."