Law America, the Devil's Agent

Chapter 84 One-Day Couple On-Site Inspection

In the morning, the sun was at its zenith.

The gate of Sacred Heart Primary School still gleamed in the afternoon sun, as if countless storms had left no trace on it.

The marble plaque embedded in the gatepost reads:

The glory of the Lord shines upon the Sacred Heart.

The text and the gilded school name looked particularly solemn in the golden breeze.

But in Link's eyes, it was an indescribable irony.

He parked the Aston Martin in a visitor's parking space across the street, turned off the engine, and turned to look at Kona in the passenger seat.

Today she wore a beige cashmere coat over a dark blue turtleneck sweater, and a simple platinum wedding ring on the ring finger of her left hand. Link wore a matching men's ring.

They look like a perfect married couple.

"Let me check again. What's my name?"

Kona touched up her lipstick in the small round mirror on the sun visor and asked without turning her head.

Claire Chung. Full-time housewife.

A graduate of Boston College with a degree in Art History, her current main job involves scrutinizing her son's educational environment and Wenmei's lifestyle.

As Link answered, he unbuckled his seatbelt, his tone as if he were reciting the key points of a witness statement.

"What is my husband's name?"

"Daniel Chung".

Regional sales director of a medical device supply company.

Remember your opening remarks:

'

My husband is very good with numbers, but he doesn't have much patience when it comes to kids, so I was the one asking the questions today.

"What's our son's name?"

"Elliott Chung, seven years old."

I like drawing and playing soccer.

She's a little shy, but very smart.

I caught a cold last week and stayed home to rest, so I can't come to visit today.

If the school is suitable, I'll bring him to the interview next time.

"Snap"

Kona closed the lipstick cap, smoothed her hair with her hand, and tried to adjust her face, which usually carried a hint of laziness and unruliness in the law firm, to resemble the image of a full-time housewife from high society that she remembered.

"Let's go, darling."

She spoke in a soft, Boston-accented tone that Link had never heard before.

"OK, dear."

Link opened the car door, went around to the other side to open the passenger door for her, and bent his arm for her to hold.

The two walked side by side across the road toward the gate of Sacred Heart Elementary School.

Kona's high heels clicked crisply on the sidewalk, her steps were relaxed and elegant, and her arm around Link's was natural and intimate, as if they had been walking like this for many years.

Link slowed his pace slightly to match hers.

From any outsider's perspective, they are a wealthy, loving, and happy couple searching for the best educational resources for their only child.

"I said, wasn't it your idea to pretend to be a married couple to check out the school?"

While maintaining that dignified smile, Kona spoke in a low voice that only Link could hear, her tone completely different from her facial expression.

"How could you even think of that?"

Link maintained his polite smile and replied in a voice squeezed out between his teeth, "Why can't it be Benny?"

Why can't it be one of those junior lawyers who have just joined the department?

Why do you insist that it was my idea?

"Alright, go back now and have Benny or Leon put on this suit and impersonate you."

Kona winked at him, the wink hidden in her slightly squinted eyes in the sunlight, making it look like she was being dazzled by the winter sun.

Do you think either of them can portray the demeanor of a regional director at a medical device company like you?

"If you make Benny read a fake name to the admissions director, he'll probably stutter three times."

Link imagined Benny blushing as she pushed up her glasses in front of the admissions director, mispronouncing "Elliot" as "Eric," and completely breaking down after the director gave her another look. He had to admit that she was right.

"Then let's keep it between the two of us. Those kids are too inexperienced."

"That's more like it."

Kona nodded in satisfaction, then changed the subject, her tone suddenly becoming playful: "By the way, why not ask Elena?"

Why did you insist on coming to me?

I've heard about it—

You call her "sweetheart."

Link's arm, which was linked with Cona's, stiffened almost imperceptibly.

"—It was Benny, wasn't it? When did he tell you?"

"Don't worry about when he told me."

Just tell me, is this true or not?

Link remained silent.

He repeated Benny's name to himself several times in his mind, and began to plan his workload for the next month.

Seeing his speechless expression after being exposed on the spot, Kona finally couldn't help but laugh out loud.

The laughter was soft, suppressed beneath her dignified mask, but her shoulders trembled several times, and the hand holding Link's arm also trembled slightly.

"Alright, alright, look at you!"

She suppressed her laughter, readjusted her elegant smile, and looked straight ahead: "I'm not your girlfriend."

Besides, Elena isn't me. Can you treat her the same way you treat me?

Link didn't respond to that sentence.

He vaguely sensed the atmosphere of a battleground.

Silence is the best approach.

He simply tightened his grip slightly, reminding her that the security registration area at the school gate was just ahead.

When Kona noticed the change in the strength of his arm, she immediately stopped teasing and joking and reverted to being the full-time housewife with a Boston accent.

Margaret Stern, the admissions director at Sacred Heart Elementary School, greeted them at the office door.

She was in her fifties, wearing a dark blue suit with a silver cross brooch at the collar. Her hair was neatly combed, and her smile was precise and warm, exactly like the photo printed in the school brochure.

The office's decor is consistent with the style of the school's exterior. Oil portraits of past principals hang on the walls, the bookshelves are filled with gilded school history yearbooks, and several neatly trimmed green plants sit on the windowsill. The air is filled with the faint aroma of coffee and old books.

"Mr. Chung, Mrs. Chung, welcome to Sacred Heart Elementary School."

We are very honored that you have considered entrusting Elliott to our education team.

Stern extended his hand and shook hands with both of them.

Her hands were warm and dry, with a moderate grip, the kind of demeanor that had been practiced repeatedly.

Kona immediately got into character.

She sat down opposite Stern, crossed her legs, placed her handbag on her lap, and began to bombard him with a series of questions in the tone of a wealthy full-time housewife, with an infinitely critical and enthusiastic interest in the details of education:

She asked about everything from class size to after-school activities, from the starting grade for French classes to the school bus routes and frequency, and from accommodation to whether the food standards included organic food.

Every question she asked was perfectly timed.

Not so sharp as to be impolite, nor so vague as to seem uncaring.

Stern answered each question carefully, nodding and smiling from time to time, maintaining a professional and approachable expression throughout.

Link leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and glanced around the office.

First, I looked at the row of oil portraits of past principals on the wall.

I glanced again at the rows of gold-embossed school history yearbooks on the bookshelf that had never been opened.

Then I turned my gaze to the neatly trimmed lawn outside the window.

When Stern mentioned that "Sacred Heart Elementary School has a very rich extracurricular program, and we organize students to participate in at least two community service activities each semester" —

Link yawned at the opportune moment, interrupting Cona and Stern's conversation.

"Honey, you can handle these things about the kids yourself. You care more about them than I do."

He waved to Cona, his tone carrying the nonchalant indifference to the details of education typical of wealthy husbands.

Then he turned to Stern: "Ms. Stern, if you don't mind, I'd like to take a walk around campus and stretch my muscles."

"My wife can handle those curriculum policies."

Stern was clearly very familiar with this division of labor within the family.

She had seen far too many couples like this:

The husband is responsible for earning money and giving approval, while the wife is responsible for criticizing and making decisions. She stood up with a smile.

"Of course, Mr. Chung."

Our campus is open to the public, and you are welcome to visit freely.

If needed, I can arrange for a staff member to accompany you.

"No need, no need, I can walk by myself."

You may continue.

Link had already stood up and was walking towards the door. Before leaving, he leaned down and gently kissed Kona's forehead.

The kiss was light and natural, like a habitual gesture a husband of many years makes before leaving the house.

Kona tilted her head slightly to accept the kiss, a perfectly timed smile on her lips, but her eyelashes trembled slightly the moment his lips touched her forehead.

After leaving the admissions office, Link put his hands in his pockets and strolled slowly down the corridor.

What first caught his attention was the distribution of the surveillance cameras.

As a lawyer who once used surveillance footage as key evidence in a corruption case at Philadelphia General Hospital, he has developed a professional sensitivity to the number and angles of cameras.

There are three cameras in the main hall covering all entrance and exit passages.

There is a spherical camera at intervals at the intersections of the main corridor, ensuring seamless coverage throughout.

The administrative office area is even more densely packed, with one office door for almost every office.

But as he continued down the corridor into the transitional area between the teaching and dormitory areas, the density of cameras noticeably decreased.

There is only one security camera at the entrance of the side corridor leading to the dormitory building; a section inside is not covered.

The passageway connecting the church and the primary school, which serves as a route for boarding students to travel between the two schools on Saturdays and Sundays, is blocked by a vine-covered archway and has no surveillance equipment.

The equipment room and garbage dump behind the playground are completely out of sight.

This is no coincidence.

When designing the school's surveillance system, someone knew precisely which corners needed to be avoided by cameras.

Link squinted his eyes.

Are even the locations of the cameras facilitating the work of these demons disguised as saints?

It seems this place is worse than he thought.