Chapter 378: Chapter 238 Female Lawyer_1
"Guys, follow me!"
Dean, accompanied by two patrol officers, headed to the neighboring yard.
He was about to ring the doorbell but caught a glimpse of a dark trace on the lower-middle part of the gate.
He reached out and wiped it. The texture was moist and slightly congealed.
Holding his finger under the light, he saw it was dark red.
This is a relatively fresh bloodstain!
Considering the little girl’s clothes had been changed, Dean speculated that the homeowner, holding the bloody clothes while opening the door, had accidentally brushed them against the gate, leaving the mark.
Looks like there’s no need to ring the doorbell anymore.
Dean gestured for the two patrol officers to step back, then lifted his foot. CRASH! He kicked a large hole into the gate before them.
The noise seemed to have startled someone upstairs, as sounds of movement could be heard.
"Watch the outside!"
Having said that, Dean pulled out his pistol, opened the gate through the breach, and strode toward the staircase.
With his near-inhuman reflexes, the bulletproof vest he wore, and his increasingly acute sixth sense, he wasn’t worried about meeting an untimely end unless it was an area-effect bomb. Unless it was an area-effect bomb, I’m not worried about anything else.
"Who’s there!"
Just as he was about to reach the second floor, a panicked voice came from above.
Dean, with his sharp hearing, also heard the sound of the other person fumbling to load their weapon. In their hand must be a shotgun, a household essential.
"Los Angeles detective, buddy! You’re surrounded. If you don’t want to be shot, put down your weapon, come out to the corridor, hands on your head, and lie down on the ground!"
"Don’t shoot! I’ll do as you say!"
Accompanied by a submissive reply, an old shotgun was slid from the hallway to the corner near the stairs. A trembling voice followed, "I’ve done as you said! Please don’t shoot!"
Dean deliberately made his footsteps audible as he ascended, his ears twitching slightly. Confirming there was no immediate threat, he leaped over six steps at once and charged onto the second-floor corridor.
There, at the doorway to a room, a gaunt Caucasian man in a cartoon-print jacket cowered on the ground, hands on his head, his body trembling uncontrollably.
Dean immediately went over, took out handcuffs, and restrained the man’s hands behind his back.
Moving closer to the man, Dean’s keen nose immediately detected a faint smell of blood.
Combined with the man’s reaction, he was certain. This man is the pedophile I suspected!
Dean walked over to the window in the second-floor corridor and signaled the patrol officers outside to enter. Then, without giving the man another glance, he went straight to a room in the hallway and pushed the door open.
This room corresponded to the one belonging to the victim’s family—the little girl’s room.
The moment he entered, Dean almost thought he had stepped back into that very room. It’s like I’m back in the little girl’s room.
Everything inside, from the ornaments to the furniture, was a perfect recreation of the little girl’s room; even the placement of the dolls on the bedside table was nearly identical.
Beyond that, the room’s walls were plastered with candid photos of the little girl’s daily life.
Judging by the angles, all the photos were taken by him, hiding and secretly capturing the images.
The only difference was that the little girl’s actual room contained her lifeless body, seemingly asleep. In this man’s room, the same spot on the bed held a life-sized doll, dressed in a child’s nightgown stained red with blood...
...
An interrogation requires at least two people present.
I can’t be bothered to call Harry and Carlo for overtime in the middle of the night.
He had the patrol officers take the man back to the precinct for detention and told Holz to search the man’s home after finishing up at the victim’s house. Then Dean drove back to his rented apartment. Time to go home and comfort my little fella.
「The next day.」
Early morning, in the precinct’s interrogation room.
Dean and Harry, holding the basic information on the victim’s family, sat at the interrogation table.
The man caught the night before sat opposite them. He looked as if he hadn’t slept all night; his eyes were bloodshot, and his listless face still showed traces of tears, as though he had been crying bitterly.
"Name!"
"Pyle."
"Tell us how you killed the Homon family!"
Pyle shook his head. "I swear, I didn’t kill anyone!"
Dean stood up, holding a photo. He walked over to Pyle and tossed a close-up picture of a little girl’s blood-stained nightgown onto the table in front of him.
"Yet we found Suliya’s nightgown and bloodstains in your residence. Everything in your room proves you’ve been monitoring and secretly photographing Suliya for a long time. How do you explain that?"
Pyle hung his head. "I admit I really liked Suliya. She was like a magnet, inexplicably drawing all my attention. But I truly didn’t kill her. Last night, I heard gunfire. Worried about Suliya’s safety, I hesitated, then took a weapon to check on her house, and then..."
At this point, a flash of hatred crossed Pyle’s eyes, and he broke into pained sobs. "Suliya was dead! She was lying on the floor. I was in so much pain. So, I changed her clothes and took the ones she was wearing back home with me, imagining she was still alive in my world."
Dean stared at Pyle for several seconds, seeing him immersed in grief, then turned to Harry. "Take him back to the holding cell. I’m going to Forensics."
Harry yawned. "Alright, boss."
...
「Outside the interrogation room.」
As soon as Dean came out, Carlo approached him. "Boss Dean, was that guy telling the truth?"
Dean shook his head. His feelings for Suliya are probably genuine, but the rest of his story is false.