I made up myths in America

Chapter 36 You're in Trouble

this moment.

If it weren't for the need to maintain the dignity of their church, Bishop Dolan would have wanted to tell the truth.

He is a cardinal ≠ he can really perform exorcisms.

In fact, after so many years as a clergyman, he has never found any priest who can really exorcise demons. Everyone is just pretending to do it, and it is enough to save face.

Before Wilson Paul invited him, Bishop Dolan thought he was in the same situation.

After all, according to his understanding, this real estate businessman who recently planned to enter politics had a gang background and must have done a lot of bad things.

Therefore, it is normal that he, the Cardinal Archbishop, needs to preside over an exorcism ceremony to relieve the pressure and anxiety in his heart and help him win votes.

But I didn’t expect it.

This guy is really daring to mess with the devil.

Thinking of this, Bishop Dolan shook his head secretly in his heart, and had already sentenced the guy in front of him who was seeking death to death.

Of course, as a clergyman with professional ethics, he would not just walk away like that, he still had to do some superficial work.

He took out a Bible, wore a black robe, and had a silver cross hanging around his neck. He performed a solemn exorcism ceremony on Wilson Paul according to the usual standard procedures.

Then he hurried away with his assistant, as if there was something dirty behind him.

"Boss, that's it?!"

After Dolan left, Wilson Paul's subordinates in black suits said unhappily:

"Is this old man lying to us? He ran away before Frank Clinton even showed up?!"

"Shut up!"

Wilson Paul, who behaved politely in front of Dolan, seemed particularly irritable at this moment.

His face darkened, and he sat down on the sofa. He raised his hand to loosen his tie, and said with an unconcealable anger in his eyes:

"What do you know, you idiot? Can't I see that he's just trying to fool me? But what can you do to him?!"

"He's the Cardinal of the Catholic Archdiocese of New York. He's going to speak on stage at the presidential inauguration."

"If I hadn't donated $20 million to the church, this old guy wouldn't even look at us, let alone speak to us so politely just now."

"Uh"

It seemed that he could not understand how an old man who looked like he was about to be buried could have such a high status. This subordinate who was usually responsible for fighting and killing raised his hand and scratched his head, and said nothing more.

On the other side, Vincent, who was mainly responsible for the legal business of Wilson Real Estate Company, spoke.

He looked a little uneasy and said, "Mr. Wilson, should we think of another safe escape route? After all, no matter how we think about it, Frank Clinton will not let us go, after all."

The gangster lawyer didn't say the last word.

But Wilson Paul understood what he meant.

Yes, the conflict between him and Frank Clinton is simply irreconcilable! !
Because he not only sent people to kill Frank's wife and two children, causing his future to be ruined and him to be arrested and imprisoned, but he also sent Frank's remaining little daughter to the underworld.
“No more hesitation!!”

Thinking of this, Wilson Paul, who had built his career from scratch, became ruthless and made a decisive decision:
"Pack your things and prepare to take the flight to the Vatican with me today. This 20 million is not wasted. You can get priority use of all Catholic church facilities."

"By then, we'll be staying at St. Peter's Basilica next to the Vatican's Apostolic Palace. I don't believe Frank Clinton would dare to chase us there."

"Boss, you are worthy of being the boss. I can't think of such a good idea."

"Me too." Wilson Paul's words finally livened up the dull atmosphere in the villa.

The subordinates, who were all very nervous, breathed a sigh of relief and took action, preparing to go to the Vatican with their boss to avoid the limelight.

But half an hour later, before they could drive to Kennedy International Airport, a dozen police cars with NYPD logos stopped them on the road.

In one of the leading police cars, a brown-haired detective in his thirties got out and looked at the old acquaintance in the car. He raised his eyebrows and said:
"Oh, sorry, Mr. Wilson, because it involves a drug smuggling case, you and your men need to go with us to the New York Police Department to cooperate with the investigation."

"Nathan Porritt!!"

Wilson Paul narrowed his eyes, obviously recognizing the detective in front of him with whom he had dealt several times.

His broad body sat motionless in the passenger seat, his face expressionless as he said, "You should know that I'm familiar with many people in your police station. These little tricks of yours won't work on me; they'll only irritate me."

"Yeah?!"

The brown-haired detective smiled nonchalantly and raised his hand to indicate that he could make the call.

"Humph."

Wilson Paul snorted coldly when he saw this, took out his cell phone and called New York Police Deputy Commissioner Caz Daughtry, with whom he had just had dinner two days ago.

“Beep, beep!!”

There was a busy tone on the phone.

"."

Wilson Paul had a bad feeling in his heart and called another senior official in the address book.

Still can't get through.

"How can it be?!"

At this moment, Wilson Paul finally couldn't keep his composure anymore. Cold sweat broke out on his back and his face turned slightly red. He took out his mobile phone and found the interest network in his address book one by one and called them.

But without exception, whether it was Congressman Stone, with whom he had dinner a few days ago, or Prosecutor Black, with whom he had a good relationship before, they all seemed to have disappeared.

At this point, Wilson finally understood why the young policeman looked so confident.

Because he was abandoned.

Haha, just a few days ago these people said they would support his campaign and that we would all make progress together, but now...
Wilson Paul, having figured everything out, stopped wasting time and pushed open the car door. He stepped out and stood before the brown-haired detective, calmly asking, "Is it because of Frank Clinton? He's just a criminal who sold his soul and gained demonic power, and yet you think he's more valuable than me?!"

"Of course, the answer to this question is decided by those bigwigs. We are only responsible for carrying out their orders."

Nathan Porritt shrugged his shoulders, and with great relief, he handcuffed the unscrupulous businessman he had long wanted to catch, and put him in the car.

"Woo-wah, woo-wah, woo-wah—"

Soon, a police car escorted Wilson Paul and his men to the 120th Precinct of the New York Police Department.

It is located in North Beach, Staten Island, New York, a remote place far away from the bustling areas of New York.

By locking Wilson Paul and his men here, we can effectively avoid the casualties and economic losses that may be caused by Frank Clinton's arrival.

Of course, if possible, George Gently did not want their investigation team to conflict with Frank Clinton.

He had dealt with this honest and courageous police officer several times and felt that he was a person worth winning over.

If the other party did not gain power by selling his soul to the devil as those newspapers speculated.

(End of this chapter)