Chapter 647: Chapter 645: The Old Path (Part Five)_1 Chapter 647: Chapter 645: The Old Path (Part Five)_1 In the light streaming through the window, Chief Jones was shrouded in a rising cloud of smoke.
The tone in which these words were spoken was so certain, it might as well have said you ate two bowls of noodles.
“Oh? Why do you say that?”
Fu Qian, who couldn’t possibly prove the truth of having eaten only one bowl, replied with a smile.
While responding, he even took the chance to assess the other’s equipment–he carried a baton but wasn’t armed with a gun.
If things got unclear, he was confident he could take him down and drive away before anyone else could come out after him, even if Chief Jones was on his guard.
Of course, that would always be the last resort, as it would greatly limit his flexibility for subsequent actions, and it was something he would avoid unless absolutely necessary.
Furthermore, from the questions asked just now, another point was clear.
The unusual behavior of the three Kateman and the aberrantly clean car were not merely his own overthinking.
“I’ve been a cop for many years, seen too many people.”
In the face of Fu Qian’s question, Jones replied in a flat and wooden tone, without even looking at him directly.
“Though I don’t have many other skills, I’m quite accurate in judging what a person is capable of.”
“The moment you walked in the door, I knew you were different from the others.”
“Only you dared to visit a police officer’s house after doing certain things.”
Such sharp eyesight! Could it be that a dashing man like myself always stands out, no matter where he goes?
Fu Qian mused quietly to himself.
But in this, there was a problem–daring to do something didn’t necessarily mean he would do it.
“So the phone call you just took, was it about someone being hit and killed?”
There was little point in playing dumb in front of such a person.
Fu Qian nodded and asked again with the casualness of making small talk.
This time, Jones finally turned and looked at him directly.
“Evidence is needed in everything.”
“Your performance, though exceptional, and even the most deranged thug I’ve met did not have your level of extreme calmness, unfortunately, it’s your companion who has exposed you.”
“Right as I entered, I found it odd. I couldn’t imagine anything could make a group of young people on vacation exhibit such a subconscious sense of guilt.”
“So before leaving just now, I took the liberty to check your car.”
“Don’t you think that for a long journey vehicle, it’s a bit too clean?”
“Considering you arrived today, your movements are very clear and easy to verify.”
“Of course, if it turns out to be a misunderstanding, and Mrs. Harrold comes home on her own tonight, nothing could be better.”
“Furthermore, don’t worry, Mary is truly happy, I wouldn’t want to spoil her fun, we can take care of this tomorrow, I’m getting old and can’t really stay up late anymore.”
Taking another drag, he flicked the half-finished cigarette to the ground, and Chief Jones returned to his lazy demeanor.
“It’s too dark outside, unsafe to travel. It’s best that you all stay the night.”
“Don’t worry, we have plenty of guest rooms.”
So he’s not giving me the chance to flee, huh?
This man is truly bold, using his own home as a detention center?
Watching Jones, who wasn’t in a hurry to go inside, Fu Qian knew he wanted him to walk in front.
Isn’t he afraid that confronting a man who might truly have run someone over would embolden that man?
Despite his thoughts, Fu Qian didn’t waste words and stepped inside the house.
Keen, stubborn, and extremely trusting in their own judgment–that’s a common affliction of veteran cops, and they are not easy to reason with.
In fact, Fu Qian wasn’t opposed to this misunderstanding.
Being under scrutiny meant that each of his actions would be analyzed in great detail.
It meant there would be many opportunities ahead to lead Chief Jones to look for a person named Laxik.
Fu Qian and Jones had just entered the door one after the other when Mrs. Jones immediately looked over with concern and asked.
Of course, Kateman and the two others were just as concerned.
“It looks like Harold’s wife has gone missing.”
Jones explained nonchalantly, helping himself to something from the refrigerator to eat.
Mrs. Jones covered her mouth, clearly shocked.
“How could this be! When did it happen?”
“Today, not long ago.”
Jones was completely nonchalant.
“But Harold was obviously very anxious, insisting that I help look for her immediately.”
“However, it’s too late today. In the end, he accepted the suggestion to wait until tomorrow, oh right–”
Jones seemed to suddenly remember something, pointing at Kateman and the others.
“It’s getting late and the road up the mountain is quite dangerous. You all should stay here tonight.”
Mrs. Jones was clearly in agreement, delighted with her husband’s initiative, and turned to look warmly at her nephew.
“Then stay, we have plenty of guest rooms.”
It was evident that Fran didn’t mind, but Kateman and the others clearly had some resistance to this suggestion.
However, they faced the same problem as before–lacking a sufficient reason to refuse.
Jones’ words, casual as they seemed, carried an undeniable authority.
And the three of them, obviously feeling guilty, exchanged looks without a word, and ultimately, no one voiced any objections.
As the prime suspect, Fu Qian had not been given any special arrangements and had simply gone upstairs with the rest, becoming neighbors with Fran.
Even so, Fu Qian had no thought of sneaking away.
There was neither need nor feasibility in doing so.
Firstly, he couldn’t possibly drive away, because starting the car would definitely wake people up.
And by relying solely on his legs, where could he run to in this remote area? It would only confirm his guilt.
As for becoming desperate?
Jones might appear casual, but he would likely notice any slight movement in the house; attempting anything would be akin to asking for a quicker death.
Fu Qian analyzed all this with relish, while also listening to the restless movements in the next room, full of anticipation for the next day.
Such a capable assistant was truly a rare find.
The next morning, a much younger police officer drove over to pick up Jones, and it was the first time Fu Qian saw the victim’s family member.
He was a rather dull-looking middle-aged man, short in stature, with a haggard expression, wrinkled clothes, and eyes bloodshot.
Without a doubt, Mrs. Harrold had not returned home last night.
Jones, just out of bed, immediately grabbed some breakfast and got in the car, while casually drafting Fu Qian and the others as unwilling volunteers.
Mrs. Jones obviously had some resistance to this request, but considering that the group, under Jones’ intimidating gaze, had once again refrained from raising any objections, she did not persist too much.
In the end, she merely comforted everyone to relax and enjoy the scenery along the way.
“Here, it’s a bit crowded over there; come on this car instead.”
And after Kateman and the others got into the car one by one, Jones simply greeted Fu Qian who was still standing outside.