"Sorry, Councilman, but the search has already begun. I have to refuse!"
"..."
In Sloan's office.
Lake hung up the third call that had come directly to his phone since he entered the office. He glanced at his own phone, then looked with interest at Sloan, who was sitting in his office chair with his hands folded, and smiled. "Mr. Sloan really is well-connected. The secretary-general of the Disabled Persons' Federation, our police commissioner, and now a councilman. Wow, who's going to call next?"
Sloan remained expressionless. He ignored the officers turning his office upside down and calmly watched Lake standing before him. "Detective Edwin, you trust your informant that much? Have you never considered that this might be false information?"
Damn Carlos.
Sloan cursed inwardly. As far as he was concerned, the informant Lake had mentioned could only be Carlos. After all, he had just learned what kind of evidence the court had relied on to issue the warrant.
A so-called killer's confession.
Aside from the rule that killers must not betray their organizations, the killer world also had an unwritten rule: under no circumstances were killers allowed to get involved with law enforcement agencies.
Put simply, they were not allowed to become rats.
Once discovered, they would be hunted to the death by the entire killer world.
Sloan looked calmly at Lake. While cursing Carlos furiously, he had already made up his mind. The next name to appear on the Fate Loom would be Lake Edwin's.
Lake chuckled. "Mr. Sloan, you have a good temper, but I wonder how good the tempers of those killers of yours are."
Sloan said, "Does Detective Edwin have any evidence for saying that? Without evidence, you can't casually spread rumors that my employees are killers, especially with such certainty. Does Detective Edwin have some issue with us?"
Lake nodded seriously. "Yes, a very big issue. They almost killed me. Does that count?"
Sloan: "..."
If Lake had no issues with them, would he have gone to all this trouble to bring officers over? With that time, wouldn't it have been better to drink coffee in the office and go out to dinner with his girlfriend when the time came?
Sloan said nothing more.
Just then.
Lake's phone rang again.
This time it was Chief Burt of the police department, but the call came from Burt's private cell phone rather than the office line.
Lake answered.
"Chief!"
"Where are you?"
"Executing a search warrant."
"I won't say much. You have half an hour. Give me half an hour. If you don't find any evidence, get back here."
"Understood!"
Lake hung up and looked toward Sloan, who appeared to be dozing behind the desk. He chuckled.
The mayor of New York City had thrown his weight around.
But...
Chief Burt had handled things well too. Although Burt had been appointed by the mayor, the current mayor's term was almost over. Moreover, Lake had a life-or-death friendship with Burt's son, so Chief Burt had still managed to buy Lake half an hour.
Half an hour was enough.
To strike in one decisive blow, Lake had prepared more than just a plan to provoke his opponent. He also had one final trump card.
With Sloan watching, Lake removed the casing from his phone and took out the battery. Then he said to an officer, "Search this desk carefully too, especially the chair Mr. Sloan is sitting in."
The officer answered, "Yes, sir!"
Damn it all.
I'm standing, so why the hell are you sitting?
A trace of anger flashed across Sloan's face, but under the gazes of two armed officers, he maintained basic courtesy. He smiled, stood up, and left his office chair.
The next second.
Bang!
An officer forcefully smashed open the door, kicked the chair over, and expertly tore it open.
Ten minutes later.
Joe, who had been conducting the search outside, walked in. He glanced at Sloan, then quietly said to Lake, who was sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed, arms folded, and eyes closed, "Nothing."
Lake opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow. He looked at Sloan, whose lips had just curved into a faint smile. "Mr. Sloan, did you just think of something happy? Why not tell us about it?"
Sloan glanced at the time on his watch. "There are twenty minutes left, Detective Edwin."
Lake nodded. "Don't worry. I understand integrity even better than Mr. Sloan does. When the time is up, I guarantee I won't stay a minute longer."
Joe looked somewhat nervous.
They had come in full of confidence and offended a whole host of important figures. If they left without finding anything, they would have completely screwed things up.
Lake looked at Joe. "Have you searched everywhere?"
Joe nodded.
"Everywhere?"
"Yes."
"Did you find anyone unusual?"
"...Uh."
Joe froze slightly, then frowned. "An unusual person? There's a temporary worker in their warehouse who seems nervous."
Lake continued, "What's his name?"
"Something Wesley."
"Only him."
Lake's gaze rose. He looked at Sloan, then walked straight outside. "Mr. Sloan, I said today was my lucky day. Do you believe me?"
Sloan's eyelid twitched.
Soon.
Wasteful Xiaobai Wesley was brought before Lake.
Lake, with both hands in his pockets and dressed in a suit, looked directly at the information sent to his tablet. Then he raised his head and said to the officer standing beside Wesley, "Arrest him."
Wesley froze slightly and immediately looked toward the factory manager. "Mr. Sloan..."
Sloan raised a hand to interrupt him and looked at Lake. "Mr. Edwin, may I ask what grounds you have for doing this?"
"Assault and theft."
"..."
Lake said it matter-of-factly, then looked at Sloan. "However, if Mr. Sloan admits that this Wesley is an employee of your factory, I think the commercial crime division might add a charge of industrial espionage."
Wesley had only arrived that morning, and the case had just been reported.
Don't forget.
Before joining The Assistance, Wesley had done something major. At his old company, he had transformed into a true keyboard warrior and beaten his supervisor and a colleague to death with a keyboard.
In a movie, this would be called settling a score satisfyingly.
But this was reality.
In reality, Wesley's supervisor and colleague had both reported him. Wesley's actions were therefore a crime, and as a criminal suspect, Lake had every legitimate reason to detain him.
Having said that.
Lake gave Sloan a few more looks, then said directly to the officer, "Take him away. Then notify the people from the 33rd Precinct to come to the station and collect him."
Wesley was dumbfounded. As the officer led him outside, he was still calling out the factory manager's name.
He had settled his scores because he thought it would change his life. Instead of changing classes into a killer, he had changed classes directly into a criminal suspect.
Soon.
Wesley was taken out.
Sloan took a deep breath and looked at Lake. "Ten minutes left. I'm already looking forward to Detective Edwin giving our textile factory an explanation."
The corner of Lake's mouth lifted. "Yes, ten minutes left. There's still one final place we haven't searched."
Sloan: "..."
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