1960: My uncle is the FBI Director

Chapter 225 Invitation to Collaboration
Theodore did not deceive Billy Hawke.

By the time the car entered the George Washington University campus, his skin color had returned to normal.

He just smelled faintly of alcohol, making him smell like an alcoholic.

Billy Hawke tossed the bottle into the trash can, raised his arm, and took a few deep breaths. He could only smell the whiskey; the stench of the corpse was completely gone.

He nodded in satisfaction, then jogged to catch up with Theodore and Bernie.

The three of them went to the geology department office.

It was empty inside, completely deserted.

Yesterday, the draft papers, maps, and data sheets that were spread all over the floor were gone. The doors of several filing cabinets were half open, and most of the file boxes that were originally full had disappeared.

Theodore stood silently at the door for a moment, then turned and walked towards the administration building.

With the help of the principal's assistant, they found the professor in a classroom.

The professor wasn't the only one in the classroom; there were also a dozen or so students.

There were many people, but it was very quiet, with only the scratching of pens on paper and occasional hushed conversations.

The professor gestured for Theodore and the others at the door to be quiet, walked out of the classroom, and pulled them a few steps into the corridor before stopping.

Theodore glanced toward the classroom and reminded the professor that they needed the results that afternoon.

The professor paused for a moment, then shook his head.

He told everyone in a low voice that after they left yesterday afternoon, he had been calculating alone until late at night and found that the amount of calculation required was far greater than he had imagined.

If I continue to do it all by myself, I probably won't be able to finish it in a week.

So he contacted his students and made calculating the position of the body when it entered the water and its trajectory after entering the water a research topic.

Bernie looked at him seriously and asked in a low voice:

What did you tell them?

The professor glanced back in the direction of the classroom and quickly shook his head:

"Don't worry, I only provided the data to be processed, not the specific details."

"The project I created was simply to calculate the hydrological model of the Potomac River."

Theodore stared at him for a moment, then asked him:
Does the research project require publication of a paper?

The professor hurriedly explained:
"The paper's content is limited to the hydrological model of the Potomac River and has absolutely nothing to do with your case."

Theodore neither confirmed nor denied this.
"Professor, we need to sign a confidentiality agreement to ensure that you will not disclose the details of the case you are investigating."

Bernie reassured the professor:

"Don't worry, this is just a routine procedure. We have hired experts from many fields as consultants, and they all have to sign confidentiality agreements."

"This confidentiality agreement only restricts you from discussing case-related matters with others without permission, and will not have any other impact on you."

The professor was still somewhat hesitant:

"What if I accidentally bring it up?"

Theodore looked at him strangely:
"Could your hydrological observation records of the Potomac River be inadvertently leaked to others?"

The professor was silent for a moment, then shook his head.

He certainly understands what secrecy is, but if he can't talk about working for the FBI, then he's been working for nothing.
He even wanted to be there in person and participate in the salvage operation!
Bernie changed the subject, pulled out his notebook and opened it:

"We have obtained the preliminary autopsy results, which show that the victim was killed 36-72 hours before the body was discovered."

The professor stared at Bernie with wide eyes, giving him a look that said, "Are you kidding me?"

Throughout his more than forty years of life, he had always lived by rivers; he had neither killed nor been killed.

Nevertheless, he knew that a time of death with a 36-hour margin of error was rather outrageous.

Theodore picked up the conversation:
"The deceased was 5 feet 3 inches tall, and due to the high degree of decomposition, his weight is difficult to estimate accurately."

"The deceased died 2-3 hours after eating."

"Given the deceased's profession, the incident likely occurred at night."

The professor shook his head:
“I need the exact time she entered the water. The time of death alone is not enough. Maybe the person who killed her left her on the shore for a while after killing her before throwing her into the water.”

Bernie glanced at the professor, then turned to look at Theodore.

He's starting to wonder if everyone at George Washington University is this weird.

Theodore was also shaking his head.

He corrected the professor:
"The time interval between the time of death and the time of entry into the water was very short."

"Forensic experts found a large amount of pasty material in the deceased's stomach. This undigested food had not yet entered the deceased's intestines."

"This indicates that the murderer threw the victim into the water shortly after killing him."

"After a person dies, digestion does not stop immediately, but proceeds slowly and eventually stops."

"The aquatic environment slows down digestive activity, almost maintaining the state at the time of death."

"If the murderer did not immediately dispose of the body in the water after killing the victim, the stomach contents should have been found in the intestines."

The professor looked at Bernie with skepticism.

Bernie remained silent.

Theodore then asked about the specific time when the results would be available.

The professor paused for a few seconds before speaking:
"It depends on you."

"If you need an accurate result, requiring an error margin of several yards, it could take weeks or even months."

"If you only need a rough result, with an error margin of tens or hundreds of yards, it will take one or two weeks."

“If you need it urgently, I can give you the results this afternoon, but the results may be within a mile or two.”

Theodore remained silent, simply staring at him.

The professor explained that it wasn't that he was deliberately delaying, but rather that the workload was simply too great.

He proposed a compromise:

"We can first delineate a general area for salvage, and then make adjustments based on the situation on site, gradually narrowing down the area until we finally pinpoint the location where the item entered the water."

"We can start construction this afternoon, and if we're lucky, we'll find the water inlet by tonight. It definitely won't delay your time!"

After a pause, the professor continued:

"I can go to the site to participate in the salvage operation."

"Until the right place is found."

…………

After leaving George Washington University, the three drove to the Seventh Precinct.

Deputy Superintendent Doherty was as enthusiastic as ever, and took the initiative to inquire about the progress of the case, expressing his concern for it.

Theodore requested assistance from the Seventh Precinct to identify the victim.

Deputy Superintendent Doherty did not directly refuse.

He expressed his admiration for their rapid progress and stated that as law enforcement agencies, they should help each other.

Then Deputy Superintendent Doherty's expression turned troubled.

He first brought up the issue of jurisdiction, arguing that according to the final ruling, the case had been fully taken over by the FBI. At this point, if the 7th Precinct were to proactively intervene in the investigation, even just to assist, it could lead to misunderstandings between the Virginia and Maryland State Police.

Deputy Superintendent Doherty then explained with difficulty that the Seventh Precinct was always short-staffed, and was currently busy dealing with backlog cases in its jurisdiction, so they simply couldn't spare any manpower to specifically help with the investigations.

Deputy Superintendent Doherty looked sincere:
"Moreover, if I were to divert them now to investigate a missing prostitute whose ownership is disputed and who may not even be operating in our jurisdiction, I would have a hard time explaining this prioritization of resources to my superiors and taxpayers."

He paused for a moment, then kindly offered Theodore a suggestion:

“Detective, perhaps you could first submit a cooperation invitation to headquarters, and then headquarters could issue orders for us to cooperate. I’m sure headquarters won’t refuse your cooperation request.”

"It may take five to seven days to sign the cooperation invitation letter, but hopefully it won't delay your investigation."

Theodore thought about it and felt that what he said made a lot of sense, but it was a bit long-winded.

He nodded seriously and thanked Deputy Superintendent Doherty.

Deputy Superintendent Doherty smiled broadly and waved his hand, indicating that it was nothing.

Bernie's gaze darted back and forth between the two men, his expression strange.

For a moment, he couldn't tell whether Deputy Superintendent Doherty was doing it on purpose or if that was just his nature.

He even felt that he might have many misunderstandings about Deputy Superintendent Doherty.

The three returned to the Department of Justice building and asked an internal affairs agent to draft a cooperation invitation letter, which they then took to Supervisor Rosen for approval.

After learning the reason, Supervisor Rosen gave a cold smile.

He picked up the phone, dialed two numbers, and then hung up.

Supervisor Rosen took the collaboration invitation, glanced at it, and then looked up at Theodore.

His gaze was somewhat strange.

The invitation to cooperate clearly outlined the ins and outs of the case, from the dispute over the ownership of the body to the FBI taking over, and then to the statement and suggestions of the deputy commissioner of the 7th Precinct.

It is impartial, completely objective and fair, and very comprehensive, without any concealment.

With just one glance, Director Rosen was certain that the invitation to collaborate was definitely written by Theodore.

Supervisor Rosen stared at Theodore for a while, then bowed his head, signed the cooperation invitation, and waved Theodore out.

The entire process took fifteen minutes.

They then drove to the DC Police Department headquarters with the invitation to collaborate and found the duty officer.

The on-duty police inspector was a middle-aged man who was a bit overweight, and he warmly received them.

Bernie was responsible for negotiating.

He took out the cooperation invitation letter, handed it to the on-duty police superintendent, and recounted the whole story in detail.

The on-duty police officer's face darkened from listening, but he still had to try his best to maintain a friendly smile.

He accepted the invitation to collaborate, his gaze lingering on the signature of Director Rosen for a few seconds. He then asked Theodore and the others to wait a moment before hurriedly leaving the office.

A few minutes later, the on-duty police inspector returned, accompanied by a middle-aged man with gray hair.

The middle-aged man had a typical Irish face, with deep eye bags and nasolabial folds, which made him look somewhat weathered.

He was wearing a neatly pressed suit, but the style was a bit outdated, a style that was popular a few years ago.

He wore a white shirt under his suit, and his tie was tied meticulously.

The middle-aged man, dressed like an FBI agent, didn't look like a policeman at all; he looked more like a member of Congress.

The duty police inspector introduced the middle-aged man to the crowd:

"This is Superintendent Frank Cassidy of the CID (Criminal Investigation Division)."

"He will act as your liaison officer and accompany you throughout the investigation. If you need any assistance from the DC Police Department, you can tell him and he will help you make the necessary connections."

The duty inspector then introduced Theodore and the other two to Inspector Frank Cassidy:
"This is FBI Agent Theodore Dixon Hoover."

"This is Agent Billy Hawke, and this is Agent Bernie Sullivan."

Inspector Frank Cassidy nodded to the three men and took the initiative to exchange pleasantries.

His choice of topic was very clever:
"I heard you used to work at the Felton Police Department?"

Thanks to Henry Thompson's trial, Theodore's past work at the Felton Police Department was no secret.

Bernie glanced at Theodore and nodded:
"That's right, we're partners."

Inspector Frank Cassidy's smile became more genuine, and after exchanging a few more words, he suddenly asked Bernie:

Have you joined the FOP (Brotherhood of Police)?

This turn of events took Bernie somewhat by surprise.

In Felton, few people talk about the police fraternity so openly and publicly.

He quickly realized what was happening and nodded again.

Inspector Frank Cassidy glanced at Theodore with surprise and asked why he hadn't seen them at several police fraternity gatherings in DC.

Bernie couldn't answer that question.

Theodore spoke frankly:

"We did not receive an invitation."

"We haven't received any more invitations since we returned from Felton."

The duty inspector and Inspector Frank Cassidy exchanged a glance and immediately extended an invitation to them to the next gathering.

Superintendent Frank Cassidy also stated that their current absence from the police force does not mean they cannot attend police fraternity gatherings, nor does it mean they have been expelled from the fraternity.

They will always be brothers in the Police Brotherhood, as long as they wish.

Inspector Frank Cassidy also inquired about the details of the police fraternity in Felton and prepared to provide an overview of the situation in DC.

Theodore interrupted the pleasantries and asked when they would depart.

The office was quiet for a moment.

The on-duty police inspector began by briefly explaining the ins and outs of the case.

Inspector Frank Cassidy snorted:
"The Seventh Precinct again? Not surprising at all."

He seemed completely unconcerned about exposing the shortcomings of the various precincts of the DC Police Department to the FBI.

He bluntly pointed out that the Seventh Precinct was simply passing the buck. While its manpower was indeed strained, it wasn't as strained as Deputy Commissioner Doherty claimed, adding that if the situation were handled by the Fourth Precinct, they would have agreed without hesitation.

The duty inspector patted Inspector Frank Cassidy on the shoulder and suggested with a smile:

"I'll go to the Seventh Precinct today and report to the chief tomorrow."

Bernie didn't say anything.

Billy Hawke seemed lost in thought, unaware of what he was thinking.

Theodore was getting impatient and was ready to urge him on at any moment.

Inspector Frank Cassidy glanced at Theodore again, nodded in agreement, and indicated that he would definitely report to the chief.

Before leaving, Theodore reminded Inspector Frank Cassidy to remember to take the cooperation invitation.

Police Inspector Frank Cassidy, who had already reached the door, froze for a moment before turning around to look at the police inspector on duty.

The duty inspector called his assistant, who retrieved the cooperation invitation and handed it to Inspector Frank Cassidy.

(End of this chapter)