Life in North America, you call this an autopsy officer?!
Chapter 183 - 147: No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Chapter 183: Chapter 147: No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

"Olina!"

"My God, what happened to her?"

The matron of Children’s House—a middle-aged black woman—looked at the photo of the female corpse in her hands, her emotions running high. "She didn’t show up today, and I thought she was just busy. What happened to her?"

Seeing this, Brian gave Green a look.

Green took the hint like a good lieutenant, his voice low. "Her body was found last night in a small grove..."

"Oh~," the middle-aged black woman expressed her emotions with exaggerated body language.

After a string of comforting platitudes,

Brian and his team obtained information about the female victim.

The victim was named Olina, 28 years old, single, an orphan who worked as a waitress at a fast-food restaurant and also volunteered at Children’s House.

In her spare time, Olina devoted all her time to the children at Children’s House, had simple social relations, and had no bad habits.

According to the black matron, Olina was a very kind and decent girl, who had not even dated.

The problem was, according to the photos from the crime scene, Olina died in revealing clothes, carrying a purse, wearing high heels—images that didn’t fit with the matron’s description.

Additionally, Brian had also seen the Autopsy Officer’s examination report from Team C5.

Olina was not a virgin.

She was not as innocent as she outwardly appeared.

In search of more accurate information,

Brian and his team had no choice but to ask the matron to call and talk to other volunteers who knew Olina well.

This time, they got more detailed information.

According to a volunteer who had a close relationship with the victim, Olina actually had been in a relationship during her time working, with a customer who frequently visited the fast-food restaurant, named Bertrand, who was more than a decade older than Olina.

As an orphan, Olina was actually longing for a home of her own.

Not only did Bertrand have a house, but he also showed warm concern, giving Olina the warmth of a father.

Unfortunately, the relationship didn’t end well.

Bertrand, Olina’s boyfriend, was arrested in March of this year for soliciting prostitutes and violently assaulting a sex worker. He had to pay a large sum of money and lost his job.

After that, the guy degenerated, often beating Olina.

Because of this, Olina broke up with Bertrand.

A month before Olina’s incident, Bertrand had found her again, threatening her to either resume their relationship, give him money, or he would make her regret it.

Olina’s job was also jeopardized because of Bertrand.

...

Having obtained the address of Bertrand, Olina’s ex-boyfriend, from the female volunteer, Brian and his partner bid farewell to the grieving middle-aged black woman.

Once outside,

Green’s face showed relief. "Boss Brian, this Bertrand is highly suspect, tricked by a prostitute, violent, threatening, and demanding money... He has a motive for crime."

Brian nodded. "The suspicion is indeed heavy. Bertrand’s address is located in this area, many characteristics match the criminal profile I made earlier."

In the car, Shi San was sound asleep.

The little fellow must be in a growth spurt lately, eating a lot, sleeping a lot.

Shi San seemed to smell Brian and squinted his eyes, his tail wagging slightly, even making the sound of nursing in his sleep—adorably cute.

Green was enchanted. "Next time I’m on break, I’m going to get a Labrador too."

Saying this, he turned to try to pet Shi San in the back seat.

But before his hand reached him, the sleeping Shi San appeared to bare his teeth in a grimace, the cute smacking sounds turning into low warning growls.

Green: ...

Nonchalantly, he withdrew his hand. "Is he pretending to sleep?"

Brian started the car and glanced at Shi San in the rearview mirror, chuckling. "Why don’t you give it a try? After all, NW has disability benefits, so don’t be scared."

"Forget it."

Green went back to being quiet.

Although Shi San was only just over two months old and probably didn’t even have all his teeth yet, he had inherited his boss Brian’s cunning, and Green did not want to provoke him.

During a previous case with a female corpse in a tree, Tom, who was surveying the crime scene, made a joke about how little Shi San didn’t even know what a bitch tasted like, and ended up not only getting bitten on the finger by Shi San but also drank ’spiked’ water for two straight days.

It was only when they checked the surveillance footage that they discovered Shi San took advantage of Tom’s absence from his desk to sneak up and bite open the lid of the water bottle and urinate inside it...

Green certainly did not want to follow in Tom’s footsteps.

...

Ten minutes later, the car arrived at the residence of Olina’s ex-boyfriend, Bertrand.

Bertrand was forty years old and currently unemployed.

His house was an independent wooden building, surrounded by leaves and overgrown weeds, indicating that it was a standalone property not managed by any estate services.

The two of them flashed their badges and went up to ring the doorbell.

It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet, so the occupant was probably still awake.

After a minute or so, a middle-aged man with lifeless eyes and a stubbled face mechanically opened the door. "Who are you?"

The moment the door opened, both Brian and Green instinctively stepped back.

It stank!

It was rancid, stinking, and there was also the smell of something rotten.

"LAPD," Green suppressed the urge to cover his nose and mouth, pointing to his badge. "Bertrand, we’ve got some questions for you."

"Oh, come in."

Bertrand didn’t even bother to verify who it was and just turned back to the living room.

The living room lights were off, using only the light from the television to make out the surroundings.

The place was a dump, takeout boxes, beer cans, piles of dirty dishes on the coffee table, remnants of food, and green-mold-covered unidentified substances... these items were scattered all around the not-so-large living room.

The smell was beyond words.

Out of options,

Both stood still, watching Bertrand return to his equally tattered sofa and then hold a large jar while staring blankly at the soap opera playing in front of him.

Like this, he didn’t seem like any kind of normal person.

...

"Boss Brian, I feel like he’s just a soulless puppet..." Green glanced at the jar Bertrand was holding and added in a low voice, "And one who’s addicted to painkillers at that."

Brian followed Green’s gaze and nodded.

That type of jar was an oversized, family-sized painkiller, typically two thousand pills a barrel, which worked out to be more cost-effective on average, and much cheaper than snorting powder. It was the preferred choice for many impoverished addicts.

This stuff, in Brian’s past life, was considered antipyretic and pain-relief medicine, but here, it was just regular pain medication, sold in buckets at some discount supermarkets.

It was addictive, and many couldn’t avoid it; a little bump or knock, and someone would tell you to take one, joint pain, or menstrual cramps, and so on, they’d also suggest taking one, and once you got used to it, you couldn’t stop.

In many American dramas, the male and female leads would wake up, open the medicine cabinet mirror, and show off a bunch of pills popping into their mouths.

In his past life, Brian had thought these were something like Vitamin C, but after coming to this world, he realized they were more often painkillers like Oxycodone...

His vision was strong, so even in the dim environment, he could still make out the setting of the living room.

Apart from the large, family-sized medicine barrel Bertrand was holding, Brian also spotted many boxes under the sofa, along with the tiny font names on them.

Seeing these boxes, he completely lost hope.

This Bertrand, most likely, was not the killer.

The reason was simple.

Those boxes contained opiate painkillers, like Oxycodone.

Of course, for those who didn’t understand, another name would make it clear.

The precursor of these substances’ ingredients was called opium.

Brian had once obsessed over something he encountered at the hospital:

An old man with cancer, worried about his son not doing well, hid all the prescription drugs provided by the doctor, and ended up dying in pain.

The old man’s obsession was to leave his hidden pills for his son.

Those drugs were opiate painkillers.

They weren’t expensive, generally three to five dollars a pill, hence, this kind of medicine was also known as the five-dollar drug.

A middle-aged person who’d been taking these things long-term could barely muster the strength to kill a chicken, let alone a human.

...

Since they had come, they still had to ask.

Green, holding back from the stench, pulled Bertrand, who was lying on the sofa, outside.

The guy was cooperative, just very slow to respond, and seemed to have impaired cognitive ability, making only simple communication possible.

It wasn’t until Brian went to a 24-hour pharmacy and, using his police authority, obtained a box of opiate painkillers for Bertrand that he improved somewhat.

"Olina..."

Bertrand muttered the name several times when his dull eyes suddenly widened, cursing furiously, "That stinking bitch, she clearly promised to give me money before, she hasn’t come these days, she lied to me!"

"Money?"

Brian and Green exchanged glances and pursued this point in their questioning.

Bertrand’s lucidity was erratic.

Through fits and starts of information, the two detectives finally pieced together what was going on.

It turned out that after Bertrand ran out of money, he went to Olina, forcing her to give him money or else he would prevent her from going to work and even threatened to blow up Children’s House.

Olina loved those children, as most of her salary went to them, so how could she agree? But her meekness due to her orphan status led to her yielding.

From that moment on, Olina, the foolish girl, had joined the ranks of streetwalkers.

To avoid being recognized by people nearby,

She would always go to the north and only return to her rented place here after her shift.

There were surveillance cameras in Bertrand’s living room.

According to the camera footage, he had been wasting away at home for the past few days, with absolutely no time to commit the crime.

...

Leaving the garbage heap of this wretched individual,

Green seethed with injustice, "Such a good girl, and this bastard not only fails to appreciate her but also threatens and forces Olina into prostitution to feed his drug habit. I really wanted to shoot that bastard just now!"

If it were him, he would have treasured such a good girl!

Brian shrugged, "Good people don’t get good returns; that’s the norm."

Anyone with a bit of temper would want to slap the likes of Bertrand, or if that didn’t work, a few hundred dollars for a handgun wasn’t expensive.

They didn’t have much time to lament Olina’s misfortune.

The new lead had dried up, but the case had to go on.

Brian glanced at the time, realized it was past nine in the evening, and said to Green, "It’s getting late, we’ll stop here for today, tomorrow..."

Mid-sentence.

Suddenly there came sounds of arguing and scolding, along with the blare of police sirens.