North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws
Chapter 48: Personnel Information, Visit_1

Chapter 48: Chapter 48: Personnel Information, Visit_1

"Is it hard to guess?" Dean asked as he came out of the villa, removing his gloves and shoe covers. "You got the information so quickly, which means that guy has a criminal record, right?"

"You’re quite the clever one!"

Hawk lost his enthusiasm. "The guy didn’t have anything on him to prove his identity, but I compared his photo and found his information in the database. It’s all here. After you read it, you’ll definitely think he’s related to the case."

Dean was intrigued.

He took the handyman’s file and started to flip through it.

According to the file, the handyman’s name was Marcus. He was a 21-year-old junkie from Arkansas. He had drifted to Los Angeles a year ago without any regular work and had three burglary records and one for drug dealing. Marcus had just been released from prison two months ago.

Dean reviewed Marcus’s criminal records and felt that Hawk had a point. A junkie with several thefts under his belt, plus the missing homeowners and the missing furniture and appliances in the villa. Any reasonable person would think there’s something wrong with Marcus. However, all this required more evidence to substantiate.

Dean set down Marcus’s file and opened the one on the homeowner’s family.

In the United States, personal privacy is ostensibly taken quite seriously. Even for the police, it’s hard to get very comprehensive records. What Hawk had obtained was just some basic registration information.

The file showed that the owner of the villa was Shane Gray. He was 39 years old, from Los Angeles, of German descent, and a second-generation immigrant. He served as the CFO of a large company with an annual salary exceeding five hundred thousand dollars.

Shane’s wife, Mary, a very common name, was 38 years old and from Arkansas. She was a housewife and a long-term volunteer at a Christian Church, a devout Christian.

Shane and Mary had two children.

Their son Bert, 19 years old, didn’t get into college and dropped out.

Their daughter Marina, 15 years old, also dropped out of school half a year ago.

After reading the information, Dean fell into deep thought. College tuition in the United States isn’t cheap, so it’s not uncommon for children from average families to end up dropping out. But the Shane family was considered well-off. They weren’t wealthy, but defined as middle class, and such families usually understood the importance of educating their offspring. They were typically willing to spend a lot of money on their children’s education, wanting to ensure the next generation would maintain their current social status. The Shane family’s situation was somewhat abnormal.

Thinking of that somewhat odd photograph in his hand, Dean realized there might be secrets within the Shane family that weren’t meant for outsiders.

BANG!

A loud crash interrupted Dean’s musings.

Everyone looked in the direction of the noise.

They saw a battered truck had ridden up onto Dean’s equally beaten-up secondhand car.

"FUCK!" With a curse, a burly white man with a thuggish face kicked open the truck door and jumped down.

The man was Lawrence.

Lawrence saw all the patrol officers looking at him. One of them, who looked young, even had his hand on his hip. Lawrence awkwardly spread his hands. "Guys, I was just driving a bit too fast..."

Dean’s mouth twitched.

Hawk gave Dean a strange look. "Dean, don’t tell me your partner is Lawrence!"

"...Yes. Is he famous?"

"Then you’re in for it," Hawk said, his strange expression turning to one of pity. "That guy once set a record at the detective bureau: over three hundred and sixty-five complaints in a single year! If his skills weren’t decent, Lawrence would’ve been fired long ago. But I heard he got into some big trouble later, almost causing a squad captain to step down. I can’t believe he’s still with the detective bureau."

Dean was speechless. Captain Monet, for keeping Lawrence on board, must be an ambitious man.

Meanwhile, Lawrence spotted Dean standing outside the villa. He somewhat awkwardly jumped out of his truck and ran towards Dean.

Hawk’s expression changed abruptly. He hurriedly said, "Dean, I’ll catch you for a drink next time. I’ve gotta go!" With that, he swiftly made himself scarce.

"Dean, glad you’re back with the team!" Lawrence said, opening his arms, eager to give Dean a bear hug.

Dean pushed him away. "Thanks for missing me, but I’d rather you call the insurance company so I can get another used car."

"That was your car?" Lawrence’s eyes widened, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I’ll take care of it. Now, let’s talk about the case."

"Alright," Dean shrugged. "The origin... well, the clues are quite vague at the moment. We can only be certain that someone died in this villa, but as for what exactly happened here, we know nothing..."

After listening to Dean’s detailed explanation, Lawrence asked, "What’s your take?"

"The handyman, Marcus, is indeed a suspect, but he’s not conscious yet. Our main priority now is to figure out the situation with the Shane family," Dean shared his thoughts.

"Good, that’s our focus," Lawrence nodded approvingly. "Inspecting the scene, investigating interpersonal relationships, and making neighborhood inquiries are the three basic approaches to cracking a case. I’m going back in to inspect again. Dean, you go talk to the neighbors."

"Okay," Dean nodded.

They split up. The area consisted of small, single-family villas, a mid-to-high-end community. Each house had an independent garden and fence, and often a doorbell outside the gate.

Of the four surrounding villas, two families weren’t home, and one resident who was home completely ignored Dean.

Fortunately, at the last house, an elderly woman approached the iron gate in her electric wheelchair. "Child, is there something you need?"

"Hello, ma’am, I wanted to ask about..."

The old lady was very chatty. Because she couldn’t easily go out and only strolled within the neighborhood, she knew a bit about every household.

Dean learned that the Shane family usually kept to themselves, except for Mrs. Gray. Furthermore, Mr. Gray’s son, Bert, often associated with shady characters. Father and son had even fought in public over it.

The old woman had a deeper impression of Shane’s daughter, Marina. "They moved here nine years ago, when Marina was only six. She was very cute and well-mannered. But later, as she grew up, she stopped coming out to play. She always kept her head down and was quiet and reticent."

Dean also inquired about the handyman. What the old woman said matched what Hawk had mentioned earlier: the handyman was indeed hired by the Shane family themselves.

However, Dean learned two important additional pieces of information. First, before the Shane family disappeared, Mrs. Gray had made a point of telling all her fellow churchgoers about their upcoming trip, essentially saying her goodbyes. Second, a few days earlier, a truck with a hot dog logo had parked in front of Villa 76 and movers had loaded a lot of furniture and appliances into it. If those items could be found, there might be additional clues.

This round of inquiries had been incredibly fruitful. After thanking the woman, Dean turned to rejoin Lawrence.

Lawrence had finished inspecting the scene. "How did it go?" he asked. "Any new findings?"

Dean nodded. "According to a neighbor, the Shane family said their goodbyes to people they knew before disappearing. It’s like a premeditated vanishing act!"

"Could the killer have forced them to do that?" Lawrence asked.

Dean shook his head and pointed at the villa. "The obvious bloodstains in the main hall were tampered with, but the smaller, less noticeable blood droplets weren’t. This suggests the perpetrator knew about forensic methods but was in a hurry. They only had time for a quick cleanup before leaving."

If the killer had coerced them, they would have had ample time to handle these details and wouldn’t have left the job half-done.

The evidence discovered so far is still too scant.

"Alright, buddy," Lawrence said, slinging an arm over Dean’s shoulder. "We’ll have a clearer picture once the forensics results are in tomorrow. For now, let’s grab a drink."

"Sorry, I have plans."

No sooner had Dean spoken than a pink Porsche pulled up on the street in front of them. The window rolled down, revealing Laura’s face—a sight that could easily elicit an X-rated impulse. "Darling, long time no see."

"Long time no see, Laura. I’ve been looking forward to your yoga class," Dean said. He patted Lawrence’s shoulder, got into the Porsche, and it sped off.

Lawrence watched the taillights disappear, then glanced at his pickup truck still sitting on top of Dean’s wrecked car. He let out a long, envious sigh. "FUCK! I hate pretty boys!"

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