Indeed, to those computer illiterates, extracting a strange file from an archive, manually adding an extension like ".rar," then extracting it again counted as advanced, hacker-level work.
Unmoved by his partner's amazement, Nick opened Google Maps and entered the address. He soon pinpointed the property, just one intersection away from the scene.
He clicked through to the property's details and was surprised to discover that it was a bed-and-breakfast with five-star reviews, called "Thorn House."
"A bed-and-breakfast?" Hancock squinted at the line of ornate lettering beneath the inn's name. Together, it read "Thorn House-Bed and Breakfast," a succinct summary of what the inn offered.
"That makes things simple. You can just ask the cab company to check whether anyone got out near this inn around eleven last night," Nick said.
Thank goodness there were no ride-hailing services like Uber yet, or checking might have taken more work.
Just then, Andrew Wu walked over with a newspaper, looking all secretive, and jerked his chin toward the stairs outside the door.
"What is it?" Nick asked curiously, about to lean sideways to look past him toward the stairs.
Wu quickly shifted a step, continuing to block his view. "Some bastard showed up downstairs just now. Said he wanted to talk to the officer who shot his friend."
Nick reached out and snatched the newspaper from him. It was a copy of The Oregonian from over a month ago, and on page A8,
the headline read "Off-duty detective shoots attacker dead." It covered the case in which he had shot the "Grimm Hunter" who had tried to attack Aunt Mary.
Showing up this openly? This killer's accomplice was pretty brazen. Or was this some kind of arrogance bred into his bones?
"Is that guy still downstairs?"
As Nick abruptly rose, Wu hurriedly put