Suspension?
Wasn't it because I acted alone, had no solid evidence, and had a minor history with Internal Affairs Division, so Internal Affairs had to follow procedure?
Could there be another reason?
Lake frowned slightly as he looked at his girlfriend. Thinking of another possibility, he rubbed his chin. "Wasn't it because of procedure? If there was something else, why didn't you tell me before?"
"Because I believe you're a good detective."
"...Thanks!"
After sighing, Maureen said, "Do you remember those three drunk troublemakers you arrested in a bar six months ago? You seriously injured one of them, too."
Lake nodded. "They assaulted a police officer."
That was back when Lake was still single. He had been looking around the bar for a potential romantic encounter. Just when he had finally taken a liking to a beautiful woman, three drunken idiots started causing trouble nearby. To keep them from interfering with his mission to pick up the woman, Lake had spoken up and warned them a few times.
Instead, they had made the first move.
Could you believe that?
Lake couldn't let that slide.
So he had acted in self-defense. The only reason he hadn't drawn his gun was because of their white skin rather than their black skin.
Any other detective would've drawn his gun and put a few holes in them the moment they dared to make a move.
Those three bruised and battered idiots hadn't said anything about pressing charges. Lake hadn't bothered to think about the matter afterward, so he had simply forgotten about it.
Could those three have some kind of background?
Maureen said, "One of those three people was the son of the mayor of New York City."
Lake raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Maureen said, "Afterward, the precinct arranged for me to give you a psychological test, trying to make your psychological evaluation fail so you'd leave the police force."
Lake laughed.
So there was another layer to the matter after all.
Maureen looked at the smile on Lake's face. "What are you laughing at?"
Lake shrugged. "I think I should thank the mayor."
"Why?"
"If it weren't for him, I never would've met you."
"..."
Lake didn't take the matter seriously at all. It was nothing more than dealing with whatever came his way. At worst, he could quit this side job. It wasn't a big deal.
The next day.
Lake got out of his girlfriend Maureen's car and stretched. He watched her drive to the parking lot, then headed toward the coffee shop across from the precinct building.
A cup of coffee in the morning could keep him alert all morning.
The kind with five spoonfuls of sugar.
It was nine in the morning. There were many law-enforcement officers around the precinct building. Lake glanced around, then shifted his gaze to the several high-rises nearby, though he couldn't determine whether Carlos was in one of them.
After a while.
Lake walked toward the precinct building with Kevin Ryan from the second squad, whose build had slimmed down somewhat. The two chatted and laughed as they went.
"Wait."
"What is it?"
"I need to tie my shoelace."
Lake stopped beside an anonymous complaint box at the entrance of the precinct building and said that to Kevin. He then crouched down and retied his loosened shoelace.
An envelope slipped into the complaint box with a swish.
Five seconds later.
Lake stood up and said to Kevin, "Let's go."
The third floor of the precinct.
The third squad's work area.
Lake sat at his desk, drinking coffee and studying a case file with interest.
He had just asked someone from the information department to find it. It was the case file from the bar incident six months ago.
Detective Joe Martinez came over as well.
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
Joe pulled over a chair and sat beside Lake, looking at the case file in Lake's hand. "Have you found a lead?"
Lake didn't say anything. He simply handed the case file to Joe, then glanced at the time on his wristwatch.
The complaint box downstairs opened promptly at nine-thirty in the morning. It was almost ten already. There should have been some news by now.
Just then.
The elevator doors opened.
Inspector Montgomery stepped out. When he reached the door to his office, he called out to Lake, who was looking at him as well. "Lake, come here."
Lake stood up.
Inside the inspector's office.
Montgomery slapped a sheet of paper sealed in an evidence bag onto the desk, then said expressionlessly to Lake, "Did you do this?"
Lake blinked and took the letter.
The next second.
Lake's eyes lit up, and he put on a remarkably convincing performance. "Sir, I request a search of the Textile Factory."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"..."
Montgomery's brow twitched repeatedly. "Yesterday, I said I'd give you the Special Operations Team as soon as you had evidence. And now, first thing this morning, a conveniently timed killer confessed his identity and reported them?"
Lake nodded. "It's a little coincidental, but it's still perfectly reasonable. My informant told me that this killer organization called The Assistance really does have a killer who defected. Perhaps that killer wants to use the power of our precinct to wipe out his former organization."
Montgomery sighed, his tone somewhat helpless. "Are you certain this killer organization is inside the Textile Factory?"
Lake nodded. "One hundred percent."
Setting aside the fact that Lake believed the plot of the movie, he had at least made his way through the killer world. He didn't know the headquarters of every killer organization, but he did know several famous ones.
It wasn't that Lake had never wanted to use his public identity to eliminate these killer organizations. But after thinking it over, he had given up.
The reason was simple.
The gains and risks didn't match at all. Besides, he hadn't become a detective to protect New York. He had come here so he could profit from conflicts between killers.
But now, The Assistance had angered him.
Montgomery heard Lake's assurance, gave him a deep look, then picked up the phone beside him and called the evidence identification department.
He hung up.
Montgomery said to Lake, "You'd better pray that the fingerprints on this report don't belong to anyone who shouldn't be there."
Lake said nothing. Instead, he asked, "Sir, what about the search warrant?"
Montgomery shot Lake a glance and said irritably, "This is your case. Go get one from the court yourself. I'm warning you—even with this evidence, without a search warrant, you stay far away from the Textile Factory."
Lake stood at attention. "Yes, sir!"
It was only a search warrant.
How hard could that be?
After leaving.
Lake whistled. Joe immediately looked up from the third squad's work area. Lake gestured toward the elevator. Joe hesitated slightly, then stood up, grabbed his coat, and caught up with Lake, who had already entered the elevator.
Joe asked Lake, "Where are we going?"
"The courthouse."
Lake raised an eyebrow. "To get a search warrant."
Joe: "..."
Have a great weekend!
Before you continue