Detective Luke

Chapter 8 Postman

Detective Department.

After dinner, Captain Susan called a meeting into the conference room.

The new female constable, Jenny, offered to pour coffee.

She looked at Davy and Luke, who had returned from their investigation. “Is there a problem with the store?” She asked

Davy said. “The owner was a slick guy, there was no surveillance, there was no cash flow, there was no cooperation at first.

It took me a long time to persuade him to admit to selling modified taser guns.

According to him, a man named 'The Postman' put the modified Taser on consignment at a*****e where only one was sold.”

Susan asked, “What about the real identity of the postman?”

“The boss doesn't know,” Davy said

Lieutenant Vincennes said, “Or not.”

Davy scowled. “The next time you question my ability, you might as well do it yourself.”

“Young people don't get so angry, I'm just saying it's possible,” Lieutenant Vincennes continued,

“If what the boss is saying is true, finding the postman will lead us to the taser-modified sales channel and lead us to the Taser robbery suspect.

The question now is how to determine the identity of the 'postman' , a nickname without a social security number.”

Reymond mused, “I've heard that nickname before.”

Vincennes quipped, “I've heard of the NBA Karl Malone 'postman, ' and I'll let you in on a little secret: he was a part-time cop.”

Captain Susan said, “Lieutenant, this is not the time to talk about basketball or your peers.”

“He's not my age. He's a few years younger than me. Are You Satisfied?” Lieutenant Vincennes shot back without hesitation and looked at Markus,

“You know the local gangs best. Can you get the identity of the 'postman' ?”

“Yay, finally!” Markus grinned.

Growing up in a slum, Markus was familiar with the gangs and, although he seemed unreliable and not very bright, he was a good recruiter.

“It's 1:30 p.m. ,” Susan said sternly. “The suspect may strike again this evening.

We don't have much time, Markus.”

“I'll do my best,” Markus said, getting up and leaving the office.

Jenny asked. “The suspect has committed two crimes. He should know that the police are trying to find him. Is it possible to stop or run away?”

“I hope so, but the circumstances at the crime scene make it highly unlikely,” said Lieutenant Vincennes, picking up a whiteboard pen and writing.

In the second attack on Feb. 25, the suspect slashed the victim's thigh and wrote 'you like' in blood at the scene.

The second was more aggressive than the first.

In my experience, unless he is caught by the police, he will not stop. He will only become more vicious.”

Luke pondered for a moment and asked, “Why did the suspect leave the words 'you like' at the scene, and for what purpose?”

Lieutenant Vincennes said, “There are usually two kinds of suspects in serial cases. The first is for financial reasons, which can be reasoned with logically.

The second kind of mind is stimulated in some way, and unless you are stimulated in the same way as he is, it is hard to guess what he is doing.”

Luke shook his head. “Never mind. I'm used to evidence.”

“Wise behavior.

I had a brilliant colleague who became schizophrenic trying to catch a serial killer.”

“Are you kidding?”

The lieutenant looked serious. “No.”

Luke was wondering if he was going to work late today, so he gave up.

He has a system of people, if you need to work overtime to solve the case, then the system is not necessary.

To avoid burnout or becoming a schizophrenic, Luke still gets off work on time.

None of the co-workers turned away, giving Luke all kinds of complicated looks.

Anyway, my health is the most precious.

......

Chinatown.

A large number of Chinese are gathered here, and the southern Fujian dialect can be heard at any time and anywhere.

This is Luke's first time in Chinatown. The streets are filled with advertisements in Chinese for Sichuan restaurants, nail salons, travel agencies that arrange passport extensions, green cards, etc. , even the ads exaggerate to the same degree as the cure-all on the domestic street poles.

Luke was feeling homesick.

After a long time, just think of their own purposes to Chinatown.

Eating fried chicken burgers every day, his brain and taste buds have begun to protest, want to eat a home-cooked meal.

Luke parked his motorbike in front of a restaurant with a green plaque, Chinese Yingchun Pavilion on the left and English on the right, and two red lanterns hanging nearby.

Entering the restaurant, a young Asian woman in a cheongsam stands at the door and says in English, “Welcome.”

He took a seat by the window and an Asian waitress handed him a menu.

Luke glances at the menu in both Chinese and English, which is topped by Chicken Zuo Zongtang

Many people in this country may not have heard of this dish, but it is very popular in the United States.

Neither has Luke.

I scanned the menu and ordered four dishes: General Tso's chicken, Mao Xuewang, Lao Gan Ma fried kidney flower, seafood stew, a bowl of rice and a bottle of Wuliangye.

These days Luke is depressed, homesick and unable to afford the local delicacies.

Now that you're Rich, you can eat as much as you want.

Just do it.

The United States also checks drunk driving, law enforcement level is also very strict.

But there has been a consistent emphasis on human rights and freedoms, including the right to drink.

As a result, the United States is the world's most lenient designated drunk driving countries.

Luke can hold his liquor well, and a couple of drinks is not a problem for biking and walking in a straight line.

Full of wine and rice.

Luke ordered a pot of dragon well to relieve his hangover and his homesickness.

A meal cost more than two hundred dollars.

A little after seven in the evening.

Luke took half a bottle of Wuliangye and rode Harley home.

Face the reality after all.

Face the reality after all.

Luke wasn't riding fast because of the wine.

Rode out to the neighborhood of Praça do Comércio and saw a familiar figure.

A little fat man with black hair and a white girl in school uniform ran down the road.

As for how to distinguish between white and Chinese girls.

The front looks at the face, the back looks at the buttocks, the white girl buttocks are more upturned some.

Luke slowed down. The Fat Boy was none other than his brother Jake.

The two of them were talking and laughing, and the white girl was holding a cup of milk tea with big breasts.

The Little Fat Man reached out several times to hug the girl's waist, and then shrank back.

From the attitude and behavior of the relationship between two people is not ordinary, absolutely not ordinary classmates or friends so simple.

Luke stopped the car, a little amused. “What's going on? The Fat Boy is only thirteen years old!”