As for entering the scene before the police and whether he would be considered a suspect, he had already thought about it before going in. Surveillance in this era was not as pervasive as it would be in the future, especially since 9/11 had not yet happened. The government had no surveillance in many residential areas, but the road he took before coming was the main road from the valley area to Beverly Hills. Henry remembered very clearly that there was public surveillance there, enough to prove that he was not at the scene when the victim called the police.

After thinking for a long time, Henry gradually formed a preliminary plan. His eyes returned to the laptop, he opened the editing software, and performed a series of edits on the video, deliberately cutting out the segment from the manor gate to the two Black criminals leaving by car, making the video appear as if it started only after entering the mansion.

If everything played out according to his plan, this video could bring in a substantial income—maybe even earn him his first bucket of gold to start his film career.

After finishing all this, Henry picked up his phone and dialed a number.

“Hello.” A familiar female voice came through the receiver. “This is Sarah Faulkner.”

“Hey, Sarah, it’s me, Henry.”

With his left arm resting on the car window, Henry said directly, “I have a video here, just shot at the robbery in the Santa Monica Valley.”

“Bill Road?” the other side asked.

Henry nodded, “Yes, I just filmed it.”

Sarah’s voice was a bit flat. “You’re too late. Someone has already provided us with that news footage. All my reporters have already rushed over.”

Hearing this, Henry couldn’t help but check the time. All that thinking and editing had taken an hour and a half. For someone chasing news, a difference of just a few minutes could mean facing two completely different situations.

“Anything else?” Sarah asked.

“No.” Henry said with a light laugh, “But, Sarah, I arrived at Bill Road before the police did.”

“What?” The voice in the receiver shot up by at least a hundred decibels. “What did you say?”

Henry said calmly, “I got to the scene before the police.”

“Damn it, why didn’t you say so earlier!”

The other side was practically shouting, “Henry, I want to see you right now. If I don’t see you before midnight, I swear to God I’ll kill you—I swear! I’ll kill you in the most brutal way you can imagine!”

Hearing these words, Henry didn’t care at all. After more than a month of working together, he already had a good idea of what kind of person Sarah Faulkner was. For the sake of news and ratings, she was capable of doing a lot of crazy things.

Driving all the way toward Burbank, Henry considered many other aspects, especially how to maximize the value of this video. Situations like this were truly rare opportunities.

In the white building of Channel 6, Sarah was pacing back and forth in her office, glancing at her watch from time to time. The newsroom reporters who had rushed to the scene had just sent back confirmed news: the case had happened in a mansion worth several million dollars, and the homeowner couple, their servants, and bodyguards had all been killed, their deaths extremely tragic.

The video provided earlier by a freelance journalist was shot after the police had sealed off the scene, and there wasn’t much that was eye-catching. If the case hadn’t happened in a wealthy area, she probably wouldn’t have bought it at all.

It was precisely because such a heinous crime had occurred in a rich neighborhood that she needed more shocking and compelling video or photo material.

And that guy Henry had actually arrived at the scene before the police. Sarah absolutely didn’t believe he would follow the rules and not shoot anything useful. After several collaborations during this period, she had come to know a bit about Henry Stanton—a bold, meticulous person with a ruthless streak deep down.

Someone like that would never stick to the rules.

Fox Los Angeles Channel 6 was just one of the many unremarkable channels under the Fox Television Network, and its ratings among local Los Angeles stations had always been mediocre. Late-night and morning news got even less attention. Someone like Sarah, with sharp news instincts and a strong career drive, knew very well what kind of attention this just-happened case would attract.

It was no exaggeration to say it would become the focus of Los Angeles social news for the next two weeks, and the ratings of the program she was in charge of were directly tied to her position and promotion.

She glanced out through the glass door. There was no movement outside. Just as Sarah was about to look away, a tall, familiar figure turned the corner at the end of her line of sight. Her furrowed brow relaxed a little, and she couldn’t help but push open the door and stride toward Henry.

“Well, this is rare.”

Seeing the tall woman striding toward him, Henry said deliberately, “You actually came out to greet me.”

Sarah tucked a long strand of golden hair behind her ear, a smile appearing on her delicate face as she asked in a low, eager voice, “Did you bring it?”

She was dressed in a well-fitted business suit, standing right in front of Henry, her light blue eyes fixed intently on him, as if Henry were the object of her secret affection.