1960: My uncle is the FBI Director

Chapter 28: It was murder, not an accident.

Wenner clapped his hands, drawing everyone together in front of the whiteboard.

Since the deaths of prostitutes are not included in the crime-solving rate, these four cases were not listed on the 'red board'.

Nevertheless, Holt's arrest for the homicide squad, for Wenner, and for so many others, is still a case worth celebrating.

Theodore and Bernie had been working on the case files for the previous week, and only yesterday did they hand them over to the prosecutor along with Holt's files, officially concluding the case.

Using the same method as the previous two cases, Wenner listed the four cases one by one on the whiteboard on the right, and the office was soon filled with applause.

As Wenner wrote, the way the applauding detectives looked at Theodore and Bernie changed.

Writing the mysterious sixteen-digit 'code' on a whiteboard is a ritual.

I knew they were powerful before the ceremony, but there was still a vague sense of uncertainty about them.

Now, four consecutive strings of sixteen-digit mysterious 'codes' are listed on the whiteboard on the right, and the sense of ambiguity is gradually replaced by reality.

After the 'ceremony' ended, everyone dispersed.

While the detectives were still hesitating about what excuse to use to ask Theodore for help, they saw Sam Latimer approach Theodore with the case file in hand.

The agents jokingly remarked that Sam, who was usually quiet, was surprisingly quick to act.

Sam grinned, offering no explanation, and looked at Theodore with trepidation.

He is of Mexican descent; in a conservative city, he wouldn't even qualify to be a patrol officer.

His case-solving rate was the highest in the homicide squad. Before Theodore came, he was the undisputed god detective of the homicide squad.

Theodore glanced down at the file, then looked up at Sam, and then turned to look at Bernie.

The case file number is 600113, which is the oil well miner case that he saw Bernie studying a few days ago.

Bernie chuckled.

Theodore had no idea what the two were up to, but he started to take a closer look.

The case is very simple:
On January 13, the police received a report from the oilfield company that one of their workers had been killed by a falling object while working.

The deceased, Hank Wilson, was a veteran oilfield worker who had spent most of his life working in the oilfields.

Samuel's autopsy report showed that the deceased's skull had a V-shaped depression.

Sam investigated the deceased's relationships and discovered that the deceased had argued with his friend Billy and Old Tom, and that someone had seen the three of them fighting.

But Billy and Old Tom were gambling with a group of workers in a tent when the incident occurred, and at least a dozen people could provide alibis for them.

Sam also discovered that the deceased had argued with foreman Roy Carter.

But Roy Carter said the deceased had asked him for an advance on his salary that day, which he refused, leading to a major argument between the two.

However, the next day Roy Carter gave the deceased an advance on his salary.

Roy Carter explained that Hank was highly skilled, and their relationship was not only one of employment but also friendship. He didn't want to lose Hank as a friend, and even more so, he didn't want to lose him as a cash cow.

The deceased's family was harmonious; although they had arguments with their neighbors, none of them amounted to murder.

After Theodore finished reading, Bernie spoke up, "Sam investigated for five months. The week before last, he ruled out the last suspect and was preparing to classify the case as an accident."

Sam, who had been silent all along, said in a low voice, "But I feel this is not an accident."

“He showed me the case, and I didn’t think it was an accident either, but it also seemed like an accident no matter how I looked at it.” Bernie nodded and said, “That’s why I came to you.”

After a brief pause, Bernie's tone turned serious. "Do you think it was an accident?"

Theodore shook his head. "It wasn't an accident."

Bernie paused, looking at Theodore with suspicion. As they spent more time together, he had noticed that Theodore sometimes made jokes that weren't funny at all.

For example, when a young girl who had just come of age was about to vomit because of an apple, he pretended to be kind and handed her the bag containing the apple, successfully making her vomit.

Sam, not thinking too much about such things, immediately asked with delight, "Really?"

Theodore nodded.

The detectives' intuition is actually very valuable. Many cases are not obvious on the surface, but it is this intuitive sense of 'something is not right' that allows them to find a breakthrough.

"Why? Have you already talked to him?" Bernie leaned closer and asked curiously.

Theodore pointed to the autopsy report: "The deceased's fatal injury was caused by a blow."

Seeing the two looking completely bewildered, Theodore went to Samuel and asked for two magazines.

I spoke with Samuel a while ago, and they happened to discuss this issue.

One of them was an issue of "German Forensic Medicine" published in 1953, which included a study on active strike injuries and injuries from falling objects from heights.

"...Injuries caused by active strikes have sharp edges and regular shapes; injuries caused by falling objects from heights have blurred edges and are often accompanied by impact injuries..."

One of them is a report published by the American Association of Forensic Scientists (AAFS) in 1958.

The report examines cases where hammer-related murders and construction site accidents were successfully distinguished by differences in the shape of skull indentations.

After reading the magazine, the two men developed a deep respect for Theodore.

Theodore flipped through the case file again and felt that he should still go to the scene to take a look.

The three arrived at the parking lot, where they met Congressman Howard's staff.

He was standing with Chief Widek, and in front of them were four brand-new patrol cars with the words "Howard Foundation Donation" painted on their bodies.

When the staff saw Theodore and Bernie, they came over to greet them warmly and suggested to Chief Widke that they take them for a test drive first.

Bernie was disgusted by Senator Howard's politician ways, but couldn't directly refuse him because of Director Widke's presence.

As he hesitated, Theodore had already opened the car door and gotten in, looking at Bernie with a puzzled expression.

Seeing Director Widke looking at him, the staff member's smile faltered, and Theodore offered a feeble explanation.

"Sorry, we have a murder case on our hands and need to get to the scene immediately."

With this explanation, the staff member's expression softened considerably, and he nodded in understanding.

Director Widek nodded slightly. "Then go quickly."

After driving for a while, Bernie realized the gas was almost empty. He slapped his forehead and remembered he'd forgotten to fill up the tank.

He blamed it all on Congressman Howard: "If it weren't for his junk cars, how could I have forgotten to fill up the gas tank!"

He reached into his pocket and realized he didn't have any gas coupons, but he still insisted that he wouldn't have forgotten to fill up his tank if it weren't for Congressman Howard and his beat-up car.

After berating Senator Howard, Bernie didn't stop at the nearest gas station but instead took a detour.

After he got out of the car, he said something to the gas station owner, who silently filled his car up and let him go without asking for money.

When Bernie saw Theodore looking at him strangely on the way, he chuckled and waved the bronze badge in his hand.

"Fuel, exemption, eternal rest—three privileges in exchange for never betraying the Brotherhood."

He recited the oath taken during the FOP initiation ceremony.

Theodore couldn't help but glance back at the gas station, where he saw three blurry letters on the worn sign—FOP.

(End of this chapter)