The real life of an American police officer: Winning over others with virtue

Chapter 271 Odor
1235 Floresta Street.

This is a residential area.

Eric knew what was going on here.

From a socioeconomic perspective, this is a typical low-income community.

Its main residents are wage earners and low-income families whose income is just above the poverty line and who lack economic buffer.

The living conditions here are often such that people barely make ends meet, with very little disposable income available to improve their lives or cope with unexpected expenses.

Eric found his destination and looked out the car window at the detached low-rise building. Before the car had even come to a complete stop, he could already hear a sharp female voice and a man's rough shouting coming from inside.

Fuck! Bitch! I'll kill you! And other similar phrases.

Code 6 (Investigate after exiting the vehicle)

"Roger that!"

Upon hearing the dispatch center's reply, Eric adjusted the body camera on his shoulder, instinctively pressed the holster on his waist, then pushed open the door, got out of the car, and walked towards the low building.

They stopped at the door and rang the doorbell, but no one answered; instead, the arguing grew louder.

"All you do is smash things! Go find a proper job if you're so tough!"

"Shut your stinking mouth! Do you even know what I do outside all day? Stop bothering me! Take this damn life or leave it!"

“LAPD! Open the door! We received a noise complaint.” Eric deliberately stood to one side of the door to avoid facing the crack, and began to pound on the door.

Bang bang bang!
There was a moment of silence inside the door, followed by an extremely impatient and aggressive roar.

"Damn it! Who is it? Are you kidding me? Get the hell out of here! Or I'll kill you!"

Eric raised an eyebrow, still pounding on the door: "LAPD! Open the door!"

"Fake!"

Along with the curse, there was a rustling sound from inside the door. Eric heard footsteps approaching the door aggressively, and he took a step back.

The door lock was roughly opened with a click.

A young man wearing a vest with full-arm tattoos appeared at the door, his face still showing anger, and there were several fresh bloodstains on his neck.

"Who the hell is that?"

When he saw Eric standing outside the door, his pupils dilated instantly, and the words he was about to say got stuck in his throat, turning into a strange, choked gurgling sound.

Holy crap! It's Eric the Butcher!

Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, how could it be this evil spirit? Oh no, oh no, did I just tell him to get lost?

The man was stunned, but his survival instinct kicked in the next second and he snapped back to reality.

"Uh, good evening, officer."

Looking at Eric, the man's tone instantly changed 180 degrees, his fierce expression turning into an almost fawning nervousness, and his voice trembled slightly.

"No, it's nothing serious, really! It's just... just a minor family disagreement! I'm so sorry to have bothered you."

Seeing the man's sudden 180-degree turn, Eric realized something.

"you know me?"

The man looked obedient, nodded, and quickly raised his hands, making a harmless gesture.

“Really! Officer, I promise you! We were just a little loud, we absolutely didn’t fight! I swear! We’ll be quiet right away, we definitely won’t make a sound again! Right, Mia?”

The man glanced back at his girlfriend who was following behind him and gave her a meaningful look.

Even a fool could understand what was going on, and the woman, Mia, quickly nodded, her voice trembling with tears:

"Yes, yes, officer, we were wrong, we won't argue anymore, we're very sorry."

Eric glanced behind them and saw the shards scattered on the ground. "Did I just hear something break?" he asked. "Are you alright?"

"It's nothing! It's...it's a plate!" the man immediately interjected, answering quickly.
"I accidentally dropped it! I promise I'll clean it up, pay for it myself, and I promise I won't break anything again!" He was as docile as a cat that had been soaked in the rain, completely devoid of his previous arrogance.

The man's throat bobbed. He might dare to feign compliance and hurl insults at ordinary cops, but he would never dare to play tricks on this man.

A person's name is like a tree's shadow; now, who on the street doesn't know this man's fearsome reputation?

Eric glanced at the two men and confirmed that apart from being emotionally agitated, they had no obvious injuries, and there were no signs of weapons or other more serious violence at the scene.

Eric nodded and said, "It's already 10:30 p.m., so I hope you can keep quiet. If I'm called here again because of the noise—" He paused, his gaze returning to the man—"Then you'll be detained for disturbing the peace."

“Absolutely not! Officer!” The man pounded his chest loudly.

"Don't worry, we'll go to sleep now! It'll be absolutely quiet!"

Eric gave them one last look, nodded, and turned to leave.

He heard the sound of a door closing softly behind him, and the hushed, fearful voices of two people inside.

Eric opened the door and got into the driver's seat, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. Was he really that scary? But it was good that he could easily resolve this police incident.

It's a pity that the mission wasn't triggered, but thinking of the man's obedient appearance, even when they were arguing like this, he didn't seem like someone who had committed murder.

"10-L-11, Code 4 (Safe, no unit intervention required) The situation has been resolved and no further action is needed."

Dispatch Center: "Received!"

Eric glanced one last time at the now-quiet low-rise building, lightly pressed the accelerator, and drove away, continuing his search for a motel or abandoned warehouse according to his plan.

Now it seems that only that wanted criminal has the conditions to trigger the mission.

-

"The fifth one"

The area they were searching for happened to be a high-crime zone. Eric had just confirmed that there were no target vehicles at several motels when the police computer beeped again from the dispatch center.

"10-L-11, Code 2 (Routine incident, no need to use police lights or sirens), the caller claims there is a strange smell coming from his apartment at 32 B Melrose and requests police assistance."

An unusual odor? A criminal case?
Eric's heart skipped a beat, and he picked up the walkie-talkie: "10-L (solo patrol)-11, received, en route to conduct investigation."

After he finished speaking, the corresponding map appeared on the police computer.

Eric glanced at the surrounding motels and began driving toward his destination.

Based on his patrol experience, such police reports are either criminal cases or accidental deaths, with the body decomposing and beginning to rot.

-

Apartment 32B, Melrose.

It was nearly 11 o'clock, and there was no one around.

Eric slowly brought the police car to a stop, recalling the scene he had just passed.

The buildings here are mostly small apartment buildings, not the large rental apartments operated by property management companies, but detached apartments that homeowners rent out themselves to increase their income.

The building has a parking garage on the ground floor and a residential area on the upper floor, with an apartment building with a staircase extending from the side.

Eric had a pretty good idea of ​​what was going on; the tenant's accidental death was the most likely explanation.

He could already smell the strange odor floating in the air.

It was like a mixture of the pungent smell of rotten eggs, the stench of a dry toilet, and the fishy stench of a dead rat.

If I'm not mistaken
This is the foul odor emitted after a corpse begins to decompose.

"police officer!"

Hearing the sound, Eric looked in the direction of the sound and saw a middle-aged man with messy hair like a bird's nest, wearing pajamas, walking towards the apartment building.

Eric got out of the car and asked, "Did you call the police?"

“Yes, officer!” the middle-aged man said.

Eric looked at the darkened apartment hallway and asked, "Is this your house?"

The middle-aged man nodded, then poured out his grievances.

"Officer, can you smell this odor? It's torture! It's everywhere and it's seriously affecting my sleep, making it impossible for me to concentrate on my work."

I called him so many times, but he didn't answer.

“Lead the way,” Eric gestured.

“Okay, officer, come with me.” The middle-aged man immediately turned around and led the way, with Eric following closely behind.

(End of this chapter)