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

Chapter 315 The Awesome Bill (Part 2)

"So it turns out it's the same everywhere." Eric observed the environment of the interrogation room and felt not pressure but rather a sense of warmth.

The walls are a plain off-white, without any upholstery, and there's a simple long wooden table and a few chairs that can be moved around freely.

There was also a small cart with a water bottle and paper cups in the corner.

The only thing it had in common with the United States was that the red light on the hemispherical camera in the corner of the ceiling was still on.

Then, Eric turned to look at the wall on his left. The wall looked like a wall, but behind it was actually the observation room.

Eric knew all too well how much scrutiny he had undergone.

In response, Eric adjusted his posture to appear more relaxed and at ease in the view of the camera and the one-way glass.

In this environment, he felt a sense of familiarity, as if he were in his element.

Hearing the noise, Eric looked toward the door in front of him.

With a click, Inspector DuPont and a relatively older detective walked in.

They only carried a folder with them, nothing else.

After exchanging a glance with the older detective, DuPont personally poured two glasses of water, placing one in front of himself and pushing the other to Eric's side.

“Mr. Stevens.” After DuPont sat down and introduced the people present, his tone became more relaxed and peaceful compared to when they were at the hotel.

"Let's talk in a different setting. Some details might be clearer to discuss here."

Eric glanced at the glass of water, didn't touch it, but simply nodded slightly, indicating that the other person should continue.

“Let’s be direct. We believe that what happened at the airport and on Roger Street was not a simple vendetta or gang fight,” the older detective said, placing his hands on the table and leaning forward in a gesture of openness.

"Therefore, we will formally question you regarding the Charles de Gaulle Airport case and the 117 Rowe Street, Building B case."

I hope you can answer all the questions truthfully; you should understand your current situation now.

“Of course I understand, officer. I also understand my rights and the current procedures,” Eric replied calmly, his gaze sweeping between DuPont and the older detective with a somewhat sharp look before finally settling on DuPont.

He then smiled and said, "But I reserve the right to remain silent until my lawyer arrives and notifies the embassy."

However, I don't mind answering some basic questions.

DuPont's expression remained unchanged; he was not surprised by Eric's airtight answer. DuPont leaned forward slightly and placed his hands on the table, folded over each other.

"Very well, then let's start with the basic facts. Were you at the airport this afternoon?"

Eric said, "Yes."

"Driving a black Audi A6 Avant with license plate number [blank]?"

"Yes, haven't you already investigated this thoroughly?"

"At the airport, did you have contact with any of the deceased?" DuPont asked.

"According to the surveillance footage, you appeared to have a verbal exchange with a man, and then you and he entered the same restroom area. Subsequently, the deceased also entered the same restroom area one after another."

“I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about, and I can’t comment until my lawyer arrives,” Eric said with a smile.

The tone was relaxed, but the words themselves were like a wall that suddenly rose up, cutting off the basic question and answer that had been flowing just now.

DuPont frowned.

The older detective's eyes sharpened instantly, and he leaned forward even more, attempting to apply pressure.

“Mr. Stevens, you just said you were willing to answer basic questions.”

Eric's smile remained unchanged: "I believe that whether or not there was contact with the deceased and the speculative descriptions of my actions go beyond the scope of basic facts and are closer to a qualitative inquiry into the events."

Continuing this dialogue without legal representation is unwise. I think we all need to follow the rules, don't we?

The older detective couldn't help but raise his voice: "Your sudden change of attitude speaks volumes!"

Eric merely turned his head slightly to look at him, his eyes calm and unwavering: "Officer, when did exercising the rights granted by law become a matter of attitude?"

I just suddenly realized that, out of respect for the French judicial process, I should have treated this questioning more carefully.

After those words were spoken, the atmosphere in the interrogation room changed.

The older detective's cheek twitched slightly due to his emotions, but DuPont seemed oblivious.
He knew who the man in front of him had killed, and from an emotional and righteous perspective, he felt a strange sense of empathy for Eric.

But the law is the law, and procedure is procedure. Nineteen lives have been lost, and regardless of who the deceased were, there must be an official investigation and explanation.

After thinking for a moment, DuPont was about to say something when his personal cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

The particular ringtone made DuPont raise an eyebrow. He gestured to the older detective to calm down and went to a corner to answer the phone.

"It's me, DuPont."

The person on the other end of the phone was his immediate supervisor, whose voice was unusually serious.

"DuPont, immediately stop all questioning of that American, complete the formalities, and release him."

"Now?" DuPont glanced at Eric.

"Now, immediately!"

DuPont lowered his voice and said, "Sir? You know the situation on Roger Street, and I've reported it to you. Those Albanians deserved it! But procedurally, and with nineteen lives lost, the media and the public need to..."

"What do you need?" The voice from the phone was firm and decisive.

“Listen, DuPont, things have changed. Five minutes ago, the Director’s office received a joint briefing from the U.S. Ambassador to France and our Ministry of Foreign Affairs.”

Those Albanians are a key target of the US and French security agencies, as they are involved in transnational human trafficking, arms smuggling, and are linked to multiple terrorist financing networks.

We have been struggling with insufficient evidence to completely eradicate it.

DuPont was taken aback. He had guessed the source of this young man's confidence, but he never expected it to be so direct and sophisticated.

This is no longer ordinary pressure; it has completely rewritten the nature of the event.

"Good heavens." DuPont glanced at Eric instinctively. Eric remained seated calmly, even adjusting his posture, as if he had expected all of this.

The voice on the other end of the phone continued: "According to the intelligence urgently provided by the US and verified by us, although the American's actions were controversial in terms of procedure and methods, the result objectively dismantled a criminal network that had long endangered the security of our two countries and rescued a large number of imprisoned victims."

Given the sensitivity of the operation and the need for subsequent international cooperation, this matter will no longer be treated as an ordinary criminal case. It will be transferred to a higher level for handling, and your department will no longer be responsible for the subsequent criminal investigation.

Upon hearing this, DuPont calmly replied, "I understand, sir."

He's all too familiar with this trick: no longer treating it as an ordinary criminal case means the chain of evidence can be reassessed, procedural flaws can be magnified, and the nature of the conduct can be redefined.

Everything could give way to the greater national interest and diplomatic convenience. The thought flashed through DuPont's mind, and he felt a sense of relief. He had only taken over the position halfway through, so he was even less inclined to deal with the good people who had essentially saved many lives.

"But sir, what about the media?" DuPont's demeanor visibly relaxed as he walked back to his seat, phone in hand.

"It's alright. The media and the public will have a unified statement. The State Administration will also handle the subsequent media reports and case filings. You don't need to worry about it."

This is no longer a criminal case; it's a security matter involving international cooperation. You understand the weight of this, DuPont.

All you have to do now is release him, be professional, keep the procedures simple, and let that American leave the police station peacefully and smoothly.

This is currently the most beneficial course of action for everyone.

The phone call abruptly ended.

DuPont put away his phone and spoke to Eric in a more relaxed tone.

"Mr. Stevens, your questioning is now concluded. Thank you for your cooperation. You may now leave."

The older detectives were stunned, looking at DuPont with disbelief.

"DuPont! This..."

DuPont raised his hand to interrupt him, but his gaze remained fixed on Eric:
"The higher authorities will handle the follow-up matters directly; our procedures here have already been completed."

A barely perceptible look of surprise crossed Eric's face. Although he saw DuPont leave to answer the phone, probably because Bill had put in more effort, he estimated that at least some maneuvering would be needed, and he might even have to spend the night in the detention room.

But I really didn't expect it to happen so quickly.

Is this the end?
"Let's go, I'll take you out."

Upon hearing DuPont's words, Eric stood up, smiled, and straightened his collar: "Thank you for your trouble, Inspector."

DuPont didn't say anything more and walked out of the interrogation room first, with Eric calmly following behind him.

As DuPont walked through the somewhat noisy office area outside, many police officers cast curious or scrutinizing glances at him, but he deflected them with a look.

He personally escorted Eric to the entrance of the police station.

The cool night air filled his lungs, and Eric squinted slightly, habitually glancing at his wristwatch.

From the moment I learned that Jinmi had been kidnapped, I was busy until after 11 a.m.

Looking up again, he saw Bill standing next to a car waiting for him.

Bill looked tired, but he was relaxed.

“That’s enough, Inspector.” Eric stopped and turned to face DuPont.

DuPont looked at the young man before him and finally couldn't help but lower his voice to ask:

"I'm just curious, if, I mean if, the call from above doesn't come, what are you going to do?"

Eric gave him a look as if he were an idiot, said nothing, and walked out, but then paused for a moment and said something.

"I bet you can't even see my shadow."

DuPont immediately recalled the airport surveillance footage, shook his head, and chuckled at his own foolish question.

After laughing, he looked up and watched Eric leave, seeing him meet up with a middle-aged man over there, and then turned and walked into the police station.

Beside the car, Bill watched Eric approach, stepped forward, and, to Eric's surprise, gave him a hug.

"Eric."

“Bill, you’re not going to thank me again, are you?” Eric chuckled.

Bill chuckled, made a fist with his right hand, and gently tapped Eric's left shoulder.

"Of course not, I already said that on the phone. I just wanted to say, you're welcome to come out."

Eric took the hit, his lips twitching almost imperceptibly in response, before opening the car door and getting into the passenger seat.

“Take me home, Bill, my girlfriend is waiting for me.”

Bill nodded and walked back to the driver's seat.

As the car door closed, he glanced at Eric, who was fastening his seatbelt, his eyes filled with gratitude, lingering fear, and a hint of guilt for failing to protect his daughter.

"Honestly, if it weren't for you, I can't imagine what Kimmy and the others would have gone through."

Eric glanced at Bill, and putting himself in Bill's shoes, he understood his feelings. Eric cut Bill off any further words of thanks he might have had.

"As long as she's safe, the process doesn't matter; the result is what matters."

Eric then asked, "Have you met Kimmy?"

Bill took a breath, nodded, started the car, and said casually, "I've seen her. She was too tired and had already fallen asleep."
Speaking of which, Tifa is quite capable. By the time I arrived, Kimmy and Amanda had recovered considerably.

“Of course,” Eric said with a smile. He wasn’t surprised that Bill knew Tifa’s name; he guessed the two of them had already introduced themselves when he entered the police station.

Bill chuckled, skillfully maneuvering the steering wheel to smoothly merge the vehicle into the Parisian night lanes.

"Did the people inside give you too much trouble?"

“They just asked me a few questions,” Eric said.

“That police inspector is a smart man; he probably saw something and knew where the line was.”

Eric then looked at Bill and said, "To be honest, I'm more curious about how you solved it?"

Upon hearing this, Bill retorted, "You should know who I am now, shouldn't you?"

Eric nodded: "We're starting to see some progress."

“So I found someone willing to make the deal,” Bill said calmly.

“I contacted a former colleague who is now in charge of the Paris station and mobilized several high-level contacts I’ve maintained for a long time.”

They provided the French with a carefully selected intelligence package containing previously undiscovered dirty deals involving French political and business figures from the past few years.

And evidence of their more serious crimes in several other European countries.

This gift was significant enough to convince some within their ranks to remove this troublesome situation and transform it back into a tangible achievement that was worth trading.

Eric listened, and although he had expected it, he was still amazed.

Doesn't this mean that all the big shots who stood up for Albanians were dealt with, and then some benefits were given up while some positions were left?
Seeing Bill's calm demeanor, Eric blinked. Was the station manager in Paris just a colleague?
Bill seems pretty impressive, doesn't he? He seems to handle things with an effortless air; to be honest, I didn't really see that coming.

(End of this chapter)