To be precise, Luke Johnson needs a long-term cash-out channel that allows for reasonable tax avoidance...

Chapter 8 The Postman

Police Detective Bureau.

After lunch, Captain Susan Smith gathered everyone in the conference room for a meeting.

The newly transferred policewoman Jenny Smith took the initiative to pour coffee for everyone.

Susan Smith looked at David Smith and Luke Johnson, who had just returned from their investigation, and asked, “Is there a problem with the Jovi Gun Shop?”

David Smith said, “The owner is a slippery guy. There’s no surveillance in the store, all transactions are in cash, and at first he wouldn’t cooperate at all.

I spent a long time persuading him before he finally admitted to selling a modified Taser.

According to him, someone called ‘the Postman’ put the modified Taser in the shop on consignment, and the store has only sold one.”

Susan Smith pressed, “What about the real identity of the Postman?”

David Smith replied, “The owner doesn’t know either.”

Deputy Captain Vincent Johnson said, “Or maybe he just doesn’t want to say.”

David Smith looked displeased. “If you doubt my ability, next time you can handle this kind of situation yourself.”

“Young man, don’t get so worked up. I’m just saying it’s a possibility.” Deputy Captain Vincent Johnson continued his analysis,

“If the owner is telling the truth, then finding ‘the Postman’ would allow us to lock down the sales channel for the modified Taser and follow the trail to catch the suspect in the Taser robbery case.

The problem now is how to determine the real identity of ‘the Postman.’ A nickname doesn’t come with a social security number.”

Raymond Johnson said thoughtfully, “I feel like I’ve heard that nickname somewhere before.”

Deputy Captain Vincent Johnson joked, “I’ve heard it too. NBA superstar Karl Malone’s nickname is ‘the Mailman.’ And I can reveal a little secret—he once worked part-time as a police officer.”

Captain Susan Smith said, “Deputy, now is not the time to discuss basketball or your peers.”

“He’s not my peer, he’s several years younger than me. Satisfied?” Deputy Captain Vincent Johnson shot back without hesitation, then looked over at Marcus Johnson,

“You know the local gangs best. Can you find out the identity of ‘the Postman’?”

“Hey, finally remembered me.” Marcus Johnson grinned, showing his thick lips.

Marcus Johnson grew up in the slums and is very familiar with all the gangs. Although he doesn’t seem very reliable and isn’t the sharpest, he’s a pro at finding people.

Susan Smith said seriously, “It’s now 1:30 p.m. The suspect might strike again tonight.

Marcus Johnson, we don’t have much time left.”

“I’ll do my best.” With that, Marcus Johnson got up and left the office.

Policewoman Jenny Smith asked, “The suspect has already committed two crimes and should know the police are in full pursuit. Is it possible he’ll stop or run away?”

“I hope so too, but judging from the crime scenes, it’s highly unlikely.” Deputy Captain Vincent Johnson picked up a whiteboard marker and began writing and marking: “First crime on 2/18, the victim was only robbed of all their belongings and clothes.

Second crime on February 25, the suspect slashed the victim’s thigh and wrote ‘you like’ at the scene with fresh blood.

Compared to the first time, the second crime was more aggressive.

In my experience, unless he’s caught by the police, he won’t stop—he’ll only get more violent.”

Luke Johnson pondered for a moment and asked, “Why did the suspect leave the words ‘you like’ at the scene? What was the purpose?”

Deputy Captain Vincent Johnson said, “There are usually two types of suspects in serial cases. The first is motivated by money, which can be deduced logically.

The second is mentally disturbed by something. Unless you’ve experienced the same thing as him, it’s hard to guess his behavior.”

Luke Johnson shook his head. “Then forget it. I still prefer to speak with evidence.”

“A wise approach.

I once had an excellent colleague who ended up with schizophrenia trying to catch a serial killer.”

“Are you joking?”

The deputy captain looked completely serious. “No.”

Luke Johnson had been considering whether to work overtime today, but after thinking it over, he decided against it.

He has a system now—if he still needs to work overtime to solve cases, then what’s the point of having the system?

To avoid dying from overwork or developing schizophrenia, Luke Johnson still left work on time.

None of his colleagues left; all sorts of complicated looks were cast at Luke Johnson.

Whatever, my health is the most valuable thing.

……

Los Angeles Chinatown.

A large number of Chinese people gather here, and you can hear the Minnan dialect everywhere.

It was Luke Johnson’s first time in Chinatown. There were Chinese ads for Sichuan restaurants, nail salons, travel agencies handling passport extensions, green card services, and so on everywhere on the street. Even the exaggerated advertising slogans were exactly like the “cure-all” flyers on utility poles back home.

Luke Johnson was filled with emotion—he was homesick.

It took him a long time to remember why he’d come to Chinatown.

After eating fried chicken and hamburgers every day, his brain and taste buds had started to protest—he wanted a meal from home.

Luke Johnson parked his motorcycle in front of a restaurant. The signboard was green, with “迎春阁” in Chinese on the left, English on the right, and two red lanterns hanging beside it.

He entered the restaurant. At the door stood a young Asian woman in a qipao, who greeted him in English: “Welcome.”

He found a seat by the window and sat down. An Asian waitress handed him the menu.