The World of American Drama: From the Los Angeles Patrol

Chapter 555 Racing on the streets of New York at 12 midnight

"Why would a doll be sent to a ghost place like this? The rats on Staten Island have a better quality of life than here."

Danny, who was walking in front, complained softly and kicked open a cardboard box in front of him. A fat mouse jumped out of it, startling him and making Jack smile.

The Staten Island he mentioned is relatively underdeveloped and the farthest among the five major boroughs in New York. The island was once the largest landfill in the world.

Most apartment buildings in New York have basements or semi-basements. It is illegal to convert these basements for rent, but in fact 99% of the basements are full of people because although the real estate market in New York is depressed, rents have been rising.

The address that Jack and Danny got was located in such a semi-basement that had been converted for rent. They walked under the steps near the road and walked into the patio filled with garbage and waste. The two stopped in front of an iron door. Stepped down.

Danny stepped forward and knocked on the door. Jack stood still against the wall with one hand on the Glock guard at his waist. You can't be too careful at this time.

"Who is it?" A question came from the door, along with the sound of loud music.

"Police, open the door!" Danny knocked hard twice more.

Not long after, the door opened, and a young white man in his twenties cautiously revealed half of his face at the door, "What's going on?"

Danny showed his ID directly to him, "Oliver Peele?"

When the two of them were verifying their identities, Jack on the side frowned involuntarily. The smell of marijuana was really a bit high.

"Stand aside, I'll ask you an answer." Danny didn't bother to talk nonsense with him, so he pushed the kid to the side and rushed in.

"What happened? What do you want to do?" Oliver Peel looked a little nervous, but more confused.

As soon as Jack stepped into this small basement, he knew that they had found the wrong person. Except for the necessary furniture such as a bed and a refrigerator, the rest of the room was filled with all kinds of dolls and all the furniture was piled high. Wall shelves.

Every doll is different, and Jack has never seen so many types of dolls in his entire life.

"Isn't it too old for you to play with these things? Are you a collector?"

He himself is considered a half-gay guy, so he can understand it to some extent, but collecting dolls is a little too unpopular, and even a bit evil. If the lights are slightly dimmed, he can directly shoot a horror movie. Instead, he can take off the dolls. He might be able to sympathize with the figure of the clothes.

Oliver Peel was still a little confused. He nodded subconsciously and then shook his head, "No, I am a critic of World Doll Magazine."

"Oh~~~" Danny opened his mouth wide and let out a long sigh, "Is there such a profession in this world?".

Jack effortlessly found their target among the pile of dolls, took it in his hand and pressed it. Sure enough, it was a familiar electronic sound, "Change my clothes, I'm peeing."

"It doesn't look like him."

Danny nodded and asked very perfunctorily, "You know that a little girl disappeared this afternoon, right? Where were you at that time?"

Oliver Peel was obviously more concerned about the doll in Jack's hand, "I just stayed in the room and didn't go anywhere. Can you please don't take it away? I haven't finished writing my comment yet."

"Excuse me." Jack returned the doll to him, and the suspicion was basically eliminated.

The two left the basement, and behind them came the guy's rather angry defense, "I know what you are thinking. In fact, this is a very important job, and many mothers trust my comments."

Jack wiped the non-existent cold sweat from his forehead, took out his cell phone and called Jubal. There was only one suspect left, and he didn't know how the investigation was going.

The FBI analysts did not disappoint his expectations, and Jubal quickly sent the information.

"Donald Burns, he's a local toy seller, sounds like a good cover, he's from Florida, his wife is local, there are photos and fingerprints, and they're still digging up other information."

"Maybe it's him. Let me drive this time. You can take a rest." Danny seemed to be in a much better mood. He rubbed his hands and looked at the Dodge Hellcat quite eagerly.

"If I want to chase someone and change my position, I don't want to get into trouble, understand?" Jack threw the car keys to him.

Donald Bence's home is in Long Island County. There are two Long Islands in New York. Jack was also confused when he first came here. The name Long Island City (long island city) sounds quite big, but it is actually equivalent to a block in Queens.

In addition to this, there is Long Island County, which is a suburb outside New York City that extends westward to the sea. It belongs to New York State but not New York City, which means that Danny, the NYPD, cannot control it here. House prices in Long Island County are cheaper than those in New York, and they are not as crowded as the city. Like New Jersey on the other side, it is a bit like the back garden of New York. There are many new apartment buildings here, but there are also many bungalows.

Of course, the distance between the houses here is incomparable to Jack's house in Los Angeles, which was blown up without damaging the neighbor's lawn.

Donald Bence's house was one of three two-story buildings connected together. It was already past 12 o'clock in the evening when they arrived, and it took them a while to knock on the door.

"Moodley Bence?" The NYPD ID didn't work here. This time it was Jack who called the door and directly showed his FBI ID.

A white woman in her forties tightened her nightgown and looked at the two of them warily, "Is there anything you can't do during the day?"

"Sorry, it's a little girl's life. We need to talk to your husband, Donald Burns. Is he home?" Danny asked.

"No, not here. What's wrong? What did he do?" The woman subconsciously held the cross necklace inlaid with pearls on her chest and rubbed it unconsciously with her fingers.

"Just talking to him, can we go in and take a look?" Jack withdrew his gaze and turned to look into the house behind her.

"Of course not." Moodley Bence flatly refused, with a bit of disgust on her face, "To be honest with you, I am in the process of divorcing that bastard. I haven't seen him for several months. I just told him yesterday His last box of stuff was sent away.”

Ah, is this the motive for committing the crime? Or to be more precise, an opportunity?

Jack had a familiar sense of sight. The Minotaur warrior who was driven crazy in the Los Angeles South Bay case turned into a psychotic serial killer because of divorce.

Now this kidnapper is skilled in his techniques and knows how to leave as little physical evidence as possible. Maybe he is a habitual criminal. He stayed honest for a few years after getting married and started committing crimes again after the divorce.

This speculation only flashed through Jack's mind, and then was thrown out of his mind. Now that he is no longer in the BAU, it is so easy to encounter a serial killer.

"Please provide us with the address you mailed to." Danny said anxiously.

"Wait a moment." Moodley Bence walked directly back to the living room without closing the door, and came back not long after with a note.

"The address was the Lincoln Harbor Inn near the Inwood community. I wrote down the room number and his cell phone number, but I didn't know if he was still there or the cell phone number. I hadn't called his cell phone in a few months. "

"Thank you, Ms. Burns." Jack took the note and saw that she was so cheerful. He also expressed his gratitude politely. At least judging from the micro-expressions and movements, he couldn't tell that the other party was lying or anything. Abnormal behavior.

Watching the two people leave, Moodley Bence closed the door, but what she didn't know was that a few minutes later, the Dodge Hellcat, which had clearly left, turned off its car lights, as if it were a ghost and quietly. Parked across the street not far from the house.

"Didn't you say she didn't look like she was lying?" Danny was a little confused and a little anxious.

"We don't have much time. Teresa has type 24 diabetes. If she doesn't inject insulin for more than hours, she may die of shock at any time."

"It's not a short amount of time." Jack was more calm than him, "Just in case, it's better than running in vain."

Inwood is at the northernmost edge of Manhattan. They would have to go through almost the entire New York City to go back. If they were cheated, they would waste even more time.

As he said this, he sent his cell phone number to Jubal and asked him to find someone to locate the cell phone.

Time passed little by little, and just when Danny couldn't help but want to speak again, the light in the bedroom on the second floor opposite finally went out, and it didn't look out of the ordinary. Just at this moment, Jack's cell phone screen also lit up.

The mobile phone location confirmed that it was the Lincoln Harbor Inn in Inwood.

"Want to experience the speed and passion?" Jack bared his teeth at Danny and showed a bad smile.

"What?" Before the guy could react, he had already started the Dodge Hellcat and stepped heavily on the accelerator.

"Fa~~~gram~~~oil~~~Jack!"

(End of this chapter)