Chapter 135: Part-time Job at the Park

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He took out his phone and glanced down, discovering that Mona was calling.

Lacey answered with a smile. “Well, Mona? Did you find any leads?”

“Yeah.”

Mona yawned on the other end.

“Ryder and I found a hidden compartment beneath the kitchen floor at Ancona’s house.”

Roan, who was driving, raised an eyebrow and asked with a smile, “I assume there was money inside?”

“Exactly. Ancona had hidden eighty thousand dollars, a handgun, and more than thirty rounds of ammunition in it.”

Mona continued, “That’s not all. I also found a neatly packed backpack in the wardrobe of Ancona’s bedroom. It contained a complete change of clothes and various necessities.”

Lacey looked at Roan. “It seems Ancona had already prepared to leave New York after the explosion.”

In the surveillance footage, Ancona had been all smiles after answering the phone. When she saw the car, she had even waved repeatedly. It was obvious that she knew the driver.

Roan nodded. “But she never expected him to choose to silence her afterward.”

When Ancona had been shot and collapsed, her face had still been filled with disbelief.

Thinking of this, Roan tilted his head and asked, “Mona, do any of Ancona’s friends or relatives know who that driver was?”

“That’s exactly why I’m calling.”

Mona sighed.

“Ancona had always been alone. Her relatives had never heard of her dating anyone recently. But Ryder and I learned from one of her female friends that, for the past few years, Ancona had secretly been working as a prostitute on the side.”

“Uh…”

Lacey’s mouth twitched at this, while Roan frowned slightly.

“So the driver was probably one of Ancona’s former clients.”

“The odds are very high.”

A rapid clatter of keyboard keys came from the other end of the line.

“Ancona worked in a park five blocks from her home. There are practically no cameras there, so I have no way of finding out who her clients were.”

Moreover, when Mona and Ryder had visited the inns and hotels near the park, they had found no records of Ancona taking rooms with other men. The owners and employees of those establishments all said they had never seen her.

Mona therefore suspected that Ancona had conducted her business directly in the park.

After all, she had only worked at night, and the park had no streetlights.

In the pitch darkness, the grass provided a convenient place for such activities.

Even if a police officer happened upon them, Ancona and her client could simply pretend to be a couple looking for some excitement.

After ending the call, Roan and Lacey exchanged a glance, both seeing the same speechless expression in the other’s eyes.

Roan, however, was not worried. The lead through Ancona had temporarily gone cold, but he still had the computer Adam had handed over.

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When they returned to Investigation Team Five, Roan immediately handed the computer to William and the other technicians.

Mona and Ryder were still on their way back, after all.

Time passed slowly. Roan and Lacey sat at their desks, going through the contents of the emails together.

Before going to sleep each night, I no longer count sheep. Instead, I imagine how to kill you, Senator Matai.

The most effective method would be to blow you to pieces with a bomb, then feed your minced remains to stray cats.

After reading several emails, Lacey wore an expression of utter disgust.

“Damn it. This guy is a complete psychopath.”

“Absolutely.” Roan nodded repeatedly. “What did the stray cats ever do to him?”

“…”

After a long silence, Lacey turned toward William, poured him a cup of coffee, and asked, “Well? Have you found out who sent the emails?”

“Of course!”

William’s fingers flew across the keyboard. A few seconds later, he picked up the coffee and drained it in one gulp before smiling and turning the information on the computer toward Roan and Lacey.

“Lindro Jacob, thirty-four years old. He spent a year in prison on Rikers Island for assaulting someone with a deadly weapon.”

Looking at the long-faced, balding white man on the screen, Roan narrowed his eyes.

“Where is he living now?”

“Forest Hills, Queens.”

William scrolled through the information and said solemnly, “However, his parole officer says Lindro Jacob is a violent man and won’t be taken into custody easily.”

At that, Roan raised an eyebrow and looked toward Lacey.

“Contact the SWAT unit.”

“Okay.”

—

Forest Hills.

Two fully armed SWAT teams slowly approached a warehouse. The lead officer advanced toward the metal gate with a ballistic shield raised. After confirming that the area was secure, he tilted his head toward the teammates behind him.

One of them immediately pulled out a large block of breaching explosive strapped to a long wooden plank and affixed it to the warehouse’s metal gate.

A long yellow wire extended from the explosive. The officer rapidly unspooled it as he retreated to rejoin the team, then looked toward Roan.

Roan was dressed entirely in black.

He held a Glock 18 and wore a bomb helmet and a tactical vest. Five flashbangs, five smoke grenades, and no fewer than ten extended magazines were tucked into his belt.

Apart from lacking a rifle, Roan looked even more SWAT than the SWAT officers themselves.

Lacey stood behind him in an FBI-issue bulletproof vest, pistol in hand, her face twisted with helpless dismay.

Seeing the SWAT officers looking at him, Roan did not hesitate. He simply said in a low voice:

“Detonate.”

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At the command, the SWAT officer immediately flipped the detonator switch.

Boom!

A deafening explosion rang out. The metal gate was blown away, and the lead SWAT officer instantly raised his shield and charged into the warehouse.

“FBI!”

“Go! Go! Go!”

Only a few lights flickered inside the warehouse. Cargo was piled haphazardly, and the layout was somewhat complicated.

The SWAT officers immediately split into teams of three. Moving along the narrow paths between the shelves, they rapidly searched the warehouse.

Roan, Lacey, and one SWAT officer formed a team and slowly advanced along a narrow passage on the left side of the warehouse.

Bang, bang, bang, bang—

“We’re taking fire!”

“Cover! Cover!”

They had taken only a few steps when gunfire suddenly erupted from the western side of the warehouse. The three of them immediately hurried toward the sound.

Bullets came flying from an unknown direction, striking the shelving and spraying dazzling sparks into the air.

Several SWAT officers raised their weapons and returned fire while shouting:

“Assault team engaging!”

“Advance along the wall!”

Bang, bang, bang—

When he reached the area, Roan fired two shots toward a distant position. Once he was certain no one was there, he immediately rolled across the floor and charged behind a slightly crooked shelf.

From there, he could see almost every part of the warehouse except the second floor. After sweeping his gaze around, Roan shouted an order:

“Team Eleven, cover the stairs!

“Teams Three and Five, move up on the flanks!”

“Copy!”

The three teams immediately moved toward their assigned positions.

Elsewhere, a white man hiding behind one of the shelves raised his weapon and fired toward the source of the voices.

Bang, bang, bang—

Round after round tore from the muzzle, striking either the shelving in front of Roan or the racks to his side.

Lacey, beside him, tensed in alarm.

“Roan!”

“I’m fine!”

Roan’s expression did not change.

The positions he had mentioned in his orders were beside and behind the enemy across from them.

Seeing the SWAT officers drawing closer, the enemy would certainly choose to retreat for the moment and avoid them.

End of Chapter