The world of American TV series: Starting with the L.A. Patrol

"Sorry, we went to the wrong room." The short man slammed the door and ran away.

"Stop, hey. Don't run!"

After Jack reacted, he chased after him in one stride, and pressed the guy against the elevator door directly at the elevator entrance. Angela carefully held her waist, walked over slowly, and gave him an encouraging look.

"Put your hands behind your back and cross your fingers!" Jack carefully began to search him from top to bottom. The guy seemed to have accepted his fate and made no resistance.

"You found a knife?" He pulled out a saber from his waist and handed it to Angela. Jack noticed that there was something strange about this guy's right leg. He pulled up his trouser leg and saw that it was a prosthetic leg.

He rolled up his sleeves, and there were tattoos of the earth, a bald eagle and an anchor on his arm.

"Marines? Are you a veteran? Did you lose your leg on the battlefield?"

"Yes, police officer, it was blown up by an IED (roadside bomb)." The short man answered honestly.

Jack reduced his strength a little, of course, because he was a disabled person, and his attitude was quite cooperative.

Jack's delicious lunch was ruined, and Angela only had time to pack a dessert from the opposite side before escorting the suspect back to the police station.

"What crime am I going to be charged with?" Ma Run, who was disabled, was taken out of the car and tried to speak.

"The first is arrest, and the rest is up to the prefectural police." Angela slowly followed behind, happily eating the cherry cheese in her hand. She was the oldest pregnant woman, and no one could stop her from replenishing energy at any time.

"So, why did you police come to my hotel room?"

The disabled Ma Run wanted to ask a few more questions, but he bumped into Tim who was walking out.

"Mickey?" Tim looked at him in surprise.

"Sergeant?" disabled Ma Run also recognized Tim.

"Do you know him?" Angela's eyes widened in surprise, and Jack also looked at Tim curiously. This guy actually used to be a sergeant.

"When I was in Afghanistan, I was his squad leader."

Tim looked at him with a very complicated look, and Jack noticed that Mickey's face was also filled with shame, a bit of unwillingness, and even a trace of resentment. It seemed that there was a story in it.

"What's going on?" Watching his former comrade-in-arms being taken by Jack to have his fingerprints taken, Tim was very puzzled.

“You have a fiancée in San Diego and a job through the Disabled Veterans Association.”

Mickey avoided Tim's probing gaze and lowered his eyelids, his face showing more numbness than pain.

"What can I say? Look away."

Jack escorted Mickey into the detention room, and the disabled veteran continued to ask relentlessly: "I can always know why the police arrested me, right?"

"He can't tell." Tim answered for Jack.

"Really? But you can." Mickey pointed to the armband on Tim's uniform.

Tim shook his head and softened his tone, "Neither can I, this involves the privacy of the victim."

"Victim?" Mickey suddenly became nervous.

"Is it Joe? What's wrong with him? Is he okay?"

Tim shook his head: "I've said too much."

Tears filled Mitch's eyes, and his voice couldn't help but choke up: "Is he dead? Please!"

Tim sighed and did not answer directly: "A police detective will ask you to question you later." He turned around and walked away.

"It seems like your relationship is a bit complicated? Are you willing to chat?" Jack had no impression of this plot and was very curious about their relationship.

"His missing leg has something to do with me." Tim fell into memories.

"When he committed a crime and was imprisoned, I broke the rules and released him early. As a result, he was blown away while on patrol that day."

"But you also have good intentions." Jack said he didn't understand his logic and there was nothing to feel guilty about.

"Rules are important, I shouldn't break them."

Well, this answer is very Tim. Jack doesn't understand the old Americans' talk about fate, and he lacks empathy for Tim's inexplicable guilt.

"Angela will start the interrogation in about 20 minutes. I'll go sort out the materials. See you then."

——

Dividing line---

"You don't really think I killed him, do you?" Mickey was a little angry.

"We don't know anything, that's why we came to ask you." Angela was particularly calm after replenishing her sugar.

"Let me put it this way, Joe died from a cervical vertebra fracture. His cervical vertebra suffered acute compression injury. The person who did this was a veteran." Jack looked at Mickey and observed his facial expression as he spoke.

"It's not me." Mickey looked sad, tears welling up in his eyes again. Jack felt that a veteran who had been on the battlefield didn't seem to have such acting skills.

"Where did the money under the mattress come from?" he asked further.

Mickey sniffed, and this time his voice sounded a little more guilty.

"A few days ago, Joe came to me and said he sneaked into a building and found a large amount of cash. Millions of dollars in cash were piled on the shelves."

"Tens of millions in cash? Are you sure?" Angela sat up straight after hearing this, looking at the other party with her eyes exposed.

Mickey nodded, "Yes, there are also some machines, guarded by many people armed with automatic weapons."

"Then he stole part of it? Why did he spend it with you?" Angela questioned.

"We have a good relationship. He is also a veteran. We always look at each other's backs when we are on the street."

Mickey was a little anxious, and Jack decided to test him again.

"In the end, you took advantage of Cai and decided to kill him and keep the remaining money?"

Mickey let out a sneer: "He stole back ten thousand yuan in total, and we spent half of it that day."

"I told him not to go back again. He was lucky the first time." He looked very guilty.

"I should have gone with him because if it had been me, he would have gone with me and we've been looking out for each other."

As he said that, he burst into tears.

Jack has basically ruled out that he is a murderer. With tens of millions in cash, most people cannot make up such an outrageous story.

At this time, John pushed the door open and tilted his head towards the two of them, signaling to come out and talk.

Jack and Angela followed John out of the interrogation room, and Tim, who was watching the interrogation through the one-way glass next door, also walked out.

"The money found in the hotel room was all counterfeit money." John looked serious.

Jack's eyes lit up. There was still some trouble with real money. Maybe Joe accidentally discovered the drug dealer's vault. Maybe the DEA or something would get involved, and there would be a lot of nonsense in the aftermath.

But it would be great to switch to counterfeit money. If you can get it all at once, when the USSS (Secret Service) gets the news and comes to want to share the credit, maybe the case will be closed and a lot of experience will be gained.