Chapter 13 drop by

It was a private road leading to a small circular housing complex of six luxury residences.The architectural forms range from the gorgeous early American style, to the spacious farm style, and the modern style that emphasizes the appearance.Although the styles of the houses are different, one thing is the same: the cost of each building is more than 200,000 yuan. He drove a Detroit-made car, unobtrusive everywhere but solid and practical, with black tires and a monochromatic body paint that marked him as an outsider in the area, like he drove a garbage truck, Or if the whole body is painted green, it will definitely not make people look away.

He parked in the shade of an elm tree, got out, stretched his limbs, and looked around at the same time. He was of medium height, rather thick-boned, and his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth were well-proportioned and unobtrusive.He will never be a hero in a movie, but there are times when someone like him is a hero. He approached the door of the nearest house, a two-story early American style house with carved white shutters and window sills with pink and yellow flowers. In a residential area like this, it was hard to imagine that crimes would happen here, but he had to investigate.Residents of this part of Long Island are very different from residents of the Bronx in Manhattan, where no one would report a crime even if there were thousands of witnesses.

He rang the bell next to the door, paused, and rang again.While waiting, he looked at the pamphlet in hand.When he rang the doorbell for the third time, a stout middle-aged woman in an apron appeared at the door. "What's the matter?" she asked. "I'm Detective Carl," he said, pulling out a wallet with a shiny police badge and a rubberized ID with his picture on it. "Are you..." He looked at the pamphlet again, "Mrs. Bella?" "No, I'm Mrs. Bella's housekeeper." "If Mrs. Bella is home, I want to speak to her." The woman stepped aside, led him into a small sitting room, and said, "I'll inform Mrs. Bella."

After a while, a little gray-haired woman appeared.He formally introduces himself again; then down to business. "Did you hear any unusual sounds between three and four this morning?" The old woman shook her head, "I always go to bed at ten o'clock." "You didn't hear any loud noises?" "I slept soundly," she said apologetically. "You know, I take sleeping pills." "So, maybe there's something you haven't heard?" "Perhaps." "What do you think the butler will hear?" "No, she doesn't live here, she works in the evening." "Who else lives here?"

"After my nephew passed away, I lived here alone," she said. "Yeah," he shrugged gracefully, "—I don't think there's anything else to ask." "What happened?" she asked. "It's nothing to worry about," he assured her. "It's just a preliminary investigation. The door was answered after a long wait. It was answered by a bearded man with a medal on his shoulders. The man's shirt and trousers were all wrinkled, as if he had slept in them, but his clear gray eyes were alert, and the loud, dissonant music in the room proved that he could not sleep. Beard Two rows of white teeth were exposed at the part. The man asked: "What's the matter, little guy? "

"I'm Detective Carl," he declared, flashing his badge. "You're Mr. Bobby? I'd like to ask a few questions." "My home is your home," said the man, bowing derisively, At the same time, he waved his hand to express his invitation.He follows Detective Carl into the house. The music was louder, the interior was brand new and expensive, but the tables were covered in dust, and an empty beer bottle had been thrown on top of the fancy chandeliers. They stopped in a room with several sofas.There were about twenty people in strange clothes sitting leisurely, some lying down, some leaning on big cushions, and a few invented strange sitting postures.Music was coming from a sound system against the wall.

Bobby gestured to a man sitting near the record player, who flipped the switch, and the sound stopped instantly. "Attention everyone," said Bobby, imitating the tone of a tour guide, "we have a detective here this morning to talk." In the far corner, two casually put out their cigarettes and pushed the ashtray under the sofa. "Okay, little one," Bobby said, "what's the matter?" "Did any of you hear or see anything unusual this morning?" As soon as the words fell, the whole room burst into laughter.A few looked at each other, and a few clapped their hands, as if they were embarrassed by the presence.

"This party has been going on for three days," Bobby explained. "Little guy, there are some scary sights and sounds." "I mean outside the house." Bobby looked around and saw only blank faces.He turned his head and said, "No, little one, nobody noticed anything." Bobby led him back to the front door, and halfway there the music started again and they had to raise their voices. "When I moved in, the whole house was soundproofed," Bobby said. "I didn't want the neighbors to be annoying, and I didn't want the neighbors to be annoying to me, you know what I mean? I bet you put cannons outside and we can not hear."

"The equipment must have cost a fortune." "It's just money," Bobby said, winking. "I'm making music about the joys of the simple life. That's pretty lucrative, little guy." The next house was a mock-Spanish house with grilled steel windows and a rough-carved mahogany door.Copper tacks were nailed into the wooden door one by one, marking the owner's initials "MG" in English.Carl drove by, and five minutes later, no one answered the door. Carl rang the doorbell again.A stout man stepped out.The man was in his fifties, wearing an old-fashioned suit of Western eyewear and a black tie.He yelled, "Tom's gone for the summer."

Carl flashed the police badge again, introduced himself, and said, "Thank you, Mr. Kevin, I am Detective Carl. Did you hear or see anything out of the ordinary this morning? " "It must have something to do with the gangster Morgan. Isn't it?" He pointed to the Spanish house Detective Carl passed. "Why would you say that?" "Because detectives have been around the area a lot since he moved in. And today's papers say he's involved in a gangster's firefight—the underworld gang is going to take over his turf. When you came, I saw you go to Mrs. Bella's, and to the musician.But you didn't go into Morgan's house, you didn't even ring the doorbell.I guess you're looking for information he can't, or won't, give you. "

Kevin sighed smugly, as if expecting to receive a medal. "You'd make a good detective," Detective Carl said, looking at Kevin's strutting look, and continued, "but you haven't answered my question. What did you see or hear this morning—especially in the Between three and four?" "No, I don't," Kevin replied reluctantly. It was clear that he wanted something to report. "What happened?" "Maybe there's nothing. I'm just going to investigate." "Hey!" Kevin's face lit up. "I just remembered - that's when Morgan comes back from his nightclub every day. My wife and I have a bedroom at the back of his house, so we can't hear the cars ahead." Sounds and other noises! But one night when I couldn't sleep, I saw Morgan coming home at that hour." "Thank you, Mr. Kevin," Detective Carl said, walking toward the last house. "There's no use for you to go there," Kevin said. "They're on vacation with the Tom family and won't be back for two weeks." "Oh, thank you again," Detective Carl said, "You help me Big busy." Kevin followed him to the parking lot, and as Carl started the engine, he leaned against the window and said, "This area used to be noble and restricted, but now it's changed. It's like a man with two pennies around can move in, that The musicians have strange friends in strange clothes all day long! I said, do you think those underworld people will come here too?" "I don't think you need to worry about it." Detective Carl told him, waved his hand, and drove away. Carl drove all the way back to Brooklyn before he started looking for a payphone booth.When he saw a phone booth next to a gas station, he stopped and hung up the phone while the refueling man was filling him up. "My preliminary investigations are all done," he told his superiors, "and it seems all is ok. Morgan, as we reckoned, came home at three or four in the morning every day, and no one could possibly hear or see it, though, just to be safe, I put a suppressor on my pistol. "