American forensics, but the gourmet system

Chapter 82 The Person Least Able to Handle Pressure (First Update, Please Subscribe!)

When Russell stepped back into the Brooklyn Criminal Investigation Center after a long absence, he found that he seemed to have gained a little more fame than before.

Just as Russell entered the lobby on the first floor, two detectives from the kidnapping squad came out of the building. When they saw Russell, they covered their mouths and whispered to each other as they walked out.

While waiting for the elevator, the head of the forensic department on the fifth floor glanced at Russell several times.

Even the burly Black woman cleaning the elevator gave Russell a kind smile.

This was absolutely not Russell's imagination; he was 100% certain that this was a treatment he had never received a week ago.

Judging by their working hours alone, the police officers at the NYPD Criminal Investigation Center are definitely among the best in New York City and even the United States.

But in reality, their workload is not that heavy.

Interrogating a thief is the same whether it takes an hour, five hours, or ten hours.

Investigating a murder case can sometimes be resolved in a day or two, with the perpetrator being sent to a detention center.

If things go slowly, it might take a week to study the case, and then the file might be thrown into a filing cabinet and become a cold case or a backlog of cases. All of this is very possible.

Given the long working hours and low workload, gossip spreads at a speed far exceeding what most people imagine within the criminal investigation center.

As Russell entered the homicide squad's office area on the third floor, an officer from the neighboring major crimes unit greeted him: "Good morning, Dr. Russell."

"Good morning—" Russell could only respond with a smile.

In fact, he had forgotten the agent's name, or rather, he had never remembered it at all.

As Russell walked from the elevator to his workstation, at least three agents whose faces he recognized but whose names he couldn't recall greeted him.

This made him feel rather flattered.

Jesse was already sitting at Russell's desk, grinning and saying in a high-pitched voice, "Good morning, Dr. Russell~"

"I don't know when you had your sterilization surgery, Jesse," Russell said calmly, placing his things on the table. "But even so, I can't give you my workstation."

"Hmm, sharp-tongued forensic pathologist—but after dealing with the FBI, you really should become even sharper—" Jesse casually waved towards his workstation. "Hey, Thea, come here for a second."

A pretty, short, slender white girl stood up from Jesse's workstation and walked over.

She was wearing a similar uniform to Jesse's, except that the epaulets on her arms were different from the others.

Russell realized that this must be the new intern detective in the Major Crimes Unit.

Russell had heard Marty’s voice during their FaceTime conversation, but he had never seen her face.

Moreover, I also witnessed her lock-picking skills from afar.

Thea walked shyly to Russell and said in a soft voice, "Hello, Dr. Russell—my name is Thea, Thea Loris. I'm a new intern agent—"

Thea looked to be in her early twenties; Russell guessed she had probably just graduated from college and passed the police exam.

Generally, after passing the police exam, you need to undergo 5-6 months of police academy training, which is just the right time to start working now.

"Hello." Russell extended his hand and shook hands briefly with Thea. "I'm Russell, the resident forensic pathologist."

"I know, I've heard Agent Wilson mention you many times—" Thea glanced up at Russell, her excitement barely concealed. "I heard you're a very capable forensic pathologist—and this time you even collaborated with the FBI to solve the largest serial murder case in nearly a decade."

Russell turned to Jesse: "So half the criminal investigation center knows about this?"

“I didn’t spread that.” Jesse shrugged. “You know, some people are incredibly well-informed, as if they come to work just to spread gossip—of course, if you find twenty corpses all at once, it’s hard not to become famous.”

"Nineteen bodies," Russell corrected Jesse.

"Twenty," Jesse insisted. "Add that dead medical examiner, and it's twenty, isn't it?"

"Alright, Russell." Jesse tidied up his desk, opened his laptop, and said, "I need to write my handover report to the FBI. You probably don't have much to write, so I'll continue to use your workstation—"

"Shouldn't the captain write this?" Russell asked, somewhat surprised.

"The captain had other things to attend to, so he entrusted this matter to his most trusted subordinate," Jesse said righteously. "As for what the captain was busy with, I don't know, but you can ask the well-informed Marty—"

Two minutes later, Jesse, who had only typed the first word of the report, looked up and asked Russell, "Why aren't you leaving yet?"

Russell looked at Jesse's computer screen with amusement: "I just wanted to see how miserable you looked when you were writing the report, so that it would ease my sadness at having my workspace taken over by you."

"Ugh, you're so annoying!"

Jesse covered her face with her hands in anguish, unable to keep up the act any longer.

"Captain? The captain's busy overturning John Dawn's case," Marty mumbled, staring at the computer screen. "I think I mentioned it to you last time. Six years ago, the person in charge of investigating the case was the current head of the robbery squad, Scott Hudson."

"Ah, the captain hasn't succumbed to Hudson's power yet?" Russell casually pulled up a chair and sat down next to Marty. "Isn't his brother a New York State Senator?"

"Uh—things aren't going quite the way we expected." Marty shrugged, and judging from his tone, it seemed he found the whole thing rather amusing.

"Why is it different?"

"You could say Hudson is starting to succumb to the captain's power—" Marty shrugged again, his expression showing signs of barely holding back. "What I've heard is that after careful consideration, Hudson feels that if the captain exposes how he used his connections and authority to pressure the captain into not overturning the case, it will have a worse impact on his career—and they think the captain might risk losing his promotion just to expose it."

Russell couldn't help but laugh: "So Hudson thinks the captain is a real tough nut to crack?"

Marty glanced around and whispered to Russell, "He always has been—I'm telling you, I thought Hudson would use the captain's promotion to deputy chief inspector to put him in his place, but the captain doesn't care at all—that day I heard the captain arguing with him in Inspector Jeremy's office in our homicide squad, saying something like, 'If you're so capable, then demote him to a regular detective—'"

>