Chapter 1201: Conversation in the Backyard (Part )

Chapter 1201 Conversation in the Backyard (Part )

Seeing the four guys in front of him looking distraught, Jack stood up, cleared the dishes in front of them, and drove them to the backyard.

The temperature during the day today has exceeded 30 degrees Celsius, but it was okay at night. The small building of the wanted criminal team is not far from the beach, and the night breeze still brings a hint of coolness.

The old Mexican gardener maintained the backyard well. The chili peppers and cherry tomatoes were all red, the water spinach had just been harvested, the eggplants were already bearing fruit, and the cucumbers and loofahs on the shelves were all green.

He picked a few cucumbers, rinsed them with water and gave two to each person, plus a dish of peanuts mixed with sea salt. Jack set up a small table in the yard and finally took out a jar of Sea Blue with soaked prunes.

"OK, go on, what happened next?"

Cassel saw that the ceramic wine cups he put out were small and very cute. When filled, they only held more than ten milliliters (a three-cent cup). He was curious and picked up a cup and drank it all in one gulp.

After grimacing from being choked, he exhaled a long puff of alcohol like Jack did, and then continued to tell what happened later.

It had been almost half a year since Beckett shot and killed Dick Cunanan. At that time, New York newspapers had devoted extensive coverage to reporting on how the brave female detective shot and killed a criminal who tried to escape from the police station.

However, about three weeks ago, when Jack was dealing with the Alcatraz VX bomb incident in San Francisco on the West Coast, Beckett suddenly received a mysterious phone call one day.

The man on the other end of the phone had an old voice and asked her to meet him at a cafe on Fourth Street, saying he wanted to talk to her about her mother's case.

"And then you were very obedient and followed his request, taking only Cassel with you to the cafe?"

Jack looked at the listless Beckett with a reproachful tone. The information of this case was also in the file that Cassel had sent him before.

At this moment, Beckett no longer had the vigor and vitality of a New York urban beauty. Her brown hair was messy and her beautiful eyes were swollen like two walnuts.

Kevin and Esposito, who were drinking silently with their heads down, couldn't help but look up and open their mouths when they heard this, as if they wanted to defend their boss.

But then both of them realized that Jack was not their superior and this was not a questioning session, so they lowered their heads again.

Both of them had bruises on their faces, especially the sturdy Esposito, who had a circle of deep bruises on his neck.

Waiting for Cassel and Beckett in the cafe was a retired NYPD detective named John LaGrande, who was also the person in charge of handling the murder case of Beckett's mother.

John LaGrange said that he had just learned from his doctor that he had advanced lymphoma and had at most six months to live, so he wanted to tell Beckett the truth before he died.

More than a decade ago, Beckett's mother, Johanna Beckett, a civil rights attorney, was found dead in a dark alley with multiple fatal stab wounds.

At the time, John LaGrande was a detective in the NYPD homicide squad and was in charge of the murder case, but in the end, at the request of some people, he attributed it to gang violence.

For years, especially since she gave up becoming a lawyer, joined the police academy and became a NYPD officer, Beckett has been privately working to investigate her mother's death.

Because three more people were killed one after another, including two colleagues of her mother and a court clerk. But after Beckett traced the four people who were suspected of being murdered because of a judicial case, all clues were completely interrupted.

Before Beckett was killed, her mother applied for access to a court document, but the disappearance of that key document brought all the efforts of the female detective to naught.

The appearance of John LaGrande was a key factor. According to his confession, the story started from an old case nineteen years ago. However, before he could tell the truth, a bullet from across the street hit him in the chest.

"But until then, you still haven't thought of informing me of this case?" Jack looked at the three NYPD officers and writers in front of him with a somewhat unfriendly look.

Like sniper murders and serial killer cases, the FBI has the right to intervene directly. Moreover, given Jack's current relationship with the NYPD, even if he wants to personally investigate a street theft case, no one will use the jurisdiction of the case to argue.

"I suggested asking you for help directly, but the deceased was a retired detective from the NYPD, and your whereabouts were unknown at the time. So..." Cassel's voice became lower and lower as he spoke.

Jack didn't intend to argue with them on this matter, but looked at the funny duo, "Then you two found out that the shooter was a professional killer with the alias of Hal Lockwood, but when you went to arrest him, he was captured alive by the other party because of a stun grenade?"

Kevin looked ashamed to face people, while Esposito touched the marks on his neck with lingering fear. "Yes, fortunately Beckett and Cassel arrived in time and captured Hal Lockwood alive."

Jack pursed his lips as he flipped through the on-site report on his phone, then he put the phone down and clapped softly.

"There are four of them, including Hal Lockwood, all of whom are professional gunmen, equipped with all kinds of automatic firepower such as submachine guns and assault rifles.

And our brave detective Beckett just held up a Glock pistol and rushed into the unarmed writer, and finally captured him alive. It was really amazing! "

Apparently hearing the sarcasm in Jack's tone, Beckett's pretty face turned almost liver-colored, and even his earlobes turned red.

Feeling that the time was right, Jack did not continue to dwell on the matter, but looked back at the two funny guys, "You did not explain in your report why Hal Lockwood tortured you, so why did he capture you alive instead of just killing you?"

The two looked at each other, and Kevin answered, "He said that the employer behind this wanted to know how far we have investigated."

"So what stage had you reached in the investigation at that time?" Jack refilled the four people's round of wine.

Cassell continued, "About 19 years ago, officers John LaGrande and Gary McAllister, then of the NYPD Mobile Patrol, were both members of the Blue Templars, an internal gang within the NYPD."

"Wait, are you sure you said 'Blue Templar'?" Jack asked in surprise.

The last time he heard this name was nearly two years ago (Chapter 637). At that time, he had just arrived in New York and assisted Frank Reagan in completing an internal cleanup, eradicating this police gang hidden within the NYPD.