Daily life of an American TV drama agent

On the Los Angeles subway, on the road near the subway entrance of MacArthur Park station, two bodies were lying next to a car surrounded by police tape.

"Thank you for letting me join the investigation of this case, Hobbes, we are indeed best friends~" Ron put on gloves and touched the body: "Have the identity of the deceased been investigated? They have who is it?"

Hobbs, who was standing next to him, looked as if he had eaten shit: "Actually, it was verified last night that they are all police officers of the Los Angeles Police Department and are very good police officers. It's a pity that this street yesterday The surveillance system was inexplicably broken, otherwise we would have been able to capture the murderer’s face.”

"Excellent? Haha, I think you must have misunderstood something." Ron curled his lips and sneered disdainfully.

"The crime detection rate of these two police officers has always been at the top in the entire Los Angeles police assessment. I think you must have misunderstood something. I will never allow you to insult a dead colleague like this!"

"Misunderstanding? Then come and see what this is?" Ron tore off the clothes of one of the deceased, revealing a ring-shaped tattoo on his chest. The tattoo was like using some metal object to forcefully burn a wound on the body. , as if inserting the metal ring.

Hobbs was unimpressed with his discovery: "What is this? I don't remember any rule in the police manual that says police officers are not allowed to have tattoos. This is just a personal preference."

Ron was not in a hurry to refute, but leisurely tore open the other person's clothes. Sure enough, there was an identical tattoo in the same position.

"So smart Mr. Hobbs, how do you plan to explain this tattoo? Could it be that it's all just a coincidence that two police officers in Los Angeles got identical tattoos at the same location?"

Ron pulled out his dagger and picked at the tattoo on the corpse. He actually picked out a bloody metal ring the same size as the tattoo and threw it to Hobbes.

"I bet you that this thing is definitely made of gold, do you believe it?"

Hobbes looked at the circle in his hand and finally became calm. Based on his experience, if this was not an organized act, he would not believe it even to death.

"Ron, do you have any information about them? Yes, you must! Who are they?!"

"I'm sorry, I don't have any information about them. I only know that they are a worldwide drug organization. I suggest you follow this line to check. By the way, has the ballistic analysis report been released? The murderer's gun came from Where did it come from?"

Each gun will have slightly different ballistics due to slight differences in tang lines and manufacturing processes. This is equivalent to a human fingerprint, and can be used to identify the source and circulation status of each gun. Ron believed that with the help of the King of War Orlov, he could find out no matter how hidden the source of the robbery was.

Ron stretched out his hand to the side out of habit, and Hobbs reflexively put the ballistic analysis report in his hand. When he finished this action, the two of them realized something was wrong at the same time and stared at each other.

But in the end, Hobbes's eyes were the first to dodge. After all, Ron was the one who needed help now, and Ron won this round.

"The ballistic analysis has been checked, and it turns out they are just a few underground gangsters, a bunch of unscrupulous small arms dealers who mainly provide weapons to gang members.

Yesterday they were single-handedly robbed by a suit thug, shot half to death with his own gun, and now they're all locked up in LAPD jail, which I don't think is going to help the case in any way. "

Hobbes handed over another file, which contained the confessions of the poor gangsters and some photos of the scene.

"Thug in a suit?" Ron felt sleepy when she said this. Isn't this her own label? Is there anyone else who can imitate him?

"Okay, although I am starting to be a little interested in this person, our current task is not to find this murderer. He has nothing to do with the gang called the Golden Circle that we need to face now. Maybe I will do it when I have some free time. There's a time to get him out and kick his ass, but it's definitely not now."

Ron touched his chin with some regret: "Our first priority now is to continue to track down this golden circle tattoo. Believe me, Hobbes, there is definitely a big case in this. If you want to go further in your position, Then do as I say.”

Ron returned all the files to Hobbes: "Let's go and talk to the superior of these two guys. I guess he will be able to give us some interesting answers."

On the outskirts of Los Angeles, a remote cubicle in an abandoned old library had been occupied by an uninvited guest using various computers at some point.

The thug in a suit who had just aroused Ron's interest was sitting on the table, reporting yesterday's trip to another lame man wearing glasses.

"I think what we are dealing with is a group of corrupt police. Fortunately, I have hidden the locator on the witness in advance. Yesterday, they actually wanted to silence the witness. Two police officers took everyone to the car in a grand manner. , planning to take him to the countryside and shoot him, but luckily I showed up in time, and now the witness is safe, what should we do?"

"do nothing."

"What did you say?" The thug in a suit never expected that the lame-eyed man would give her an unexpected answer. He angrily rushed to the blackboard filled with chains of evidence.

"Look! All the pieces are in place. Stiles is the boss of the anti-narcotics team. He and his men have been helping drug dealers transport drugs. As a result, they happened to be witnessed by that unlucky kid. There was evidence of their transaction, so they planned to kill someone. He silenced the witness and arranged for a lawyer to frame the witness’s brother to make him responsible for killing several other witnesses. They have already killed five people!”

"No, it's six. The witness's brother was stabbed to death in prison yesterday. No camera captured who did it."

The lame man turned around. If Nameless Doe were here, he would definitely be able to recognize him as Dr. Finch, the genius engineer who helped him build the Sky Eye machine.

"Then tell me, why do we stop now?!" The thug in suit slapped the blackboard hard, but Dr. Finch was not frightened by his momentum.

"Because of him," Dr. Qi took out a photo and pasted it on the evidence chain on the blackboard, and drew an arrow pointing to the current clue: "Ron Lee Cooper, the best agent of Irs, now The complexity of this case has exceeded our expectations, and this person will handle all the rest.

This person has already focused on you, so all our current activities are terminated until this person diverts his attention away from you, and then starts again. "