The world of American TV series: Starting with the L.A. Patrol.

In the end, Cassel was unable to eat the roast duck he had been craving for, and the Chinese takeout from Chinatown still took on the responsibility of providing him with midnight snacks. However, Jack promised to find time to make it for him once later.

The Wolfe brothers' farm raises a flock of Cherry Valley ducks, a breed bred from a cross between Peking ducks and Ellisbury ducks by a British company called Cherry Valley Farm.

This type of duck has a higher lean meat rate and grows faster than traditional Beijing duck. Nowadays, most of the roast duck eaten by Seres is actually made from Cherry Valley duck.

Barbecued pork wrapped in lettuce and crepe can be considered an alternative shawarma. The pork trotter rice is as popular as ever. Kassel, who didn't get to eat the roast duck, grabbed a roast pigeon and ate it with relish.

When Esposito, who arrived late, stepped out of the elevator and smelled the aroma of roast meat that filled the entire office, he subconsciously covered his rumbling stomach.

"Where have you been?" Beckett asked casually while biting a burrito and reading some documents.

"Have some coffee." Esposito took the beef dumplings handed to him by Jack, put them under his nose and took a deep breath.

Kevin was already wiping his mouth with a tissue, and was a little surprised to hear his answer, "You spent the entire afternoon and half the evening drinking coffee?"

Esposito glared at him unhappily, “I found the café that Dr. Monroe goes to almost every day, right next to the Faircloth Hotel.

I showed the hotel manager her photo and learned that our victim came to the hotel almost every Monday through Friday night and stayed overnight in a long-term rental suite.”

Jack felt that things were becoming more and more interesting. The Faircloth Hotel was not a cheap motel. Even a long-term rental suite would cost more than $50,000 per month.

"No, the person who rents the suite is not a doctor, but Cesar Calderon." Esposito turned on his computer and retrieved a document.

Hearing the name, Cassel jumped up from his seat as if his butt was equipped with springs, "Is it that Calderon?"

"Do you know him?" Jack was startled by this guy and threw a pack of wet wipes to him, asking him to wipe his greasy paws clean.

"Calderon was a famous drug lord in Colombia in the 90s, nicknamed 'The Devil'. Although he was not as famous as 'Medellin' and 'Shorty Guzman', he was definitely notorious.

I once looked up some information about him for research purposes, and I heard that he spent a lot of money to escape the wanted list of the Colombian authorities, and he has been living in seclusion in New York ever since. "

Cassel's expression could be described as beaming with joy, with gossip written all over his face.

"A beautiful doctor and a drug lord have a secret meeting late at night. An angel who cures and saves lives spends a good night with a devil who sells evil."

Someone's mental excitement lasted until the next morning. When the three of them walked into the elevator leading to the high-rise suite of the Fairclos Hotel, Cassel was still chattering non-stop.

"Famous criminals living in hidden suites at fancy hotels, very Al Capone style."

Jack resisted the urge to kick him out of the elevator, pressed the elevator button to the 26th floor, and asked the long-legged beauty beside him who was also speechless, "What do you think of this story about the doctor and the drug lord?"

"I don't know, but injecting air into the victim's neck doesn't seem like a drug lord's method of murder." Beckett looked thoughtful.

Cassel raised a finger and said mysteriously, "Unless Calderon deliberately wanted to cover up the truth and turn the suspicion to the hospital staff to prevent the body from being discovered."

"Bad review, the plot is too abrupt." Jack's ruthless contempt made Cassel's face fall, and he looked at the beautiful detective pitifully.

Beckett suppressed his laughter and forced himself to ignore Cassel's funny expression. "I just don't understand why a respected doctor would be willing to get involved with a notorious drug lord."

"This is part of the best explanation." Cassel boasted again, "Women don't love bad men."

Neither Jack nor Beckett objected to this.

The elevator door dinged open, and three people, one in front and two behind, left the elevator and stepped into the corridor. Jack looked down at the carpet, which was dark red.

This high-end hotel, which costs $1600 a night, has a very luxurious decoration style, with gold and red as the main colors, making people feel as if they are in a palace.

Cassel continued to indulge in his creative inspiration, "'Devil' Caesar Calderon, a super villain, who knows what we are about to step into."

While reciting the narration in an aria, he did not forget to help Beckett press the doorbell very gentlemanly, and then continued.

".A twisted, corrupt, evil world."

"Do you need me to lend you a pistol to give you courage?" Jack lifted his coat to reveal his SIG Sauer sidearm, successfully interrupting the guy's chatter.

Just at this moment, the door opened, and an ordinary-looking Latino man in his forties appeared at the door. He looked at everyone with vigilance, and his eyes just fell on the pistol and police badge on Jack's waist.

Caesar Calderon should be in his 60s this year. This man obviously did not fit the description in the information, so Jack introduced himself first.

"Hello sir, I'm Agent Jack Tawaller, this is Detective Kate Beckett from the NYPD, and Richard Cassel, we're here to see Cesar Calderon, we want to talk to him."

The middle-aged Latino man put away his guarded expression and forced a smile, "I'm sorry, but I think you guys are out of the room. I haven't heard of Caesar."

If his smile was more genuine, Jack might believe it and take another look at the room number, or maybe he would suspect that the hotel manager had given the wrong information.

However, someone has never had much patience for drug dealers. If he wasn't just accompanying Cassel to play the crime-solving game and relax at the same time, even if the so-called "devil" Caesar Calderon is now living in New York with a legal identity, he wouldn't mind visiting him at a different time and with a different identity.

Just as Jack's face darkened and he narrowed his eyes dangerously and was about to attack, a man's voice with a heavy Spanish accent came from the room behind the middle-aged Latino man.

"Richard Cassel? That famous writer, Richard Cassel?"

The voice sounded a little weak, suggesting that the speaker was not in good health, but it had the tone of someone who had been in a superior position for a long time, like someone who was used to giving orders.

"Let them in, Manolo, let them in."

The smug smile on Cassel's face was harder to suppress than AK's. His expression was exactly the same as that of a certain commander who dodged a bullet by shaking his head and successfully made a comeback.