Chapter 151: The One Who Knew Is Dead

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After hearing Mona’s words and Lacey’s explanation of Philomena and the Dancer modeling agency, then recalling the capitalist miracle he had investigated earlier, Roan quickly pieced together the truth behind Brent Hughes’s death.

Brent Hughes’s work mainly involved mergers and acquisitions between companies, so certain people looking to make a quick fortune had set their sights on him.

More than half a month earlier—perhaps even longer—the mastermind had sent Philomena to get close to Brent Hughes.

Brent Hughes had been divorced for a long time, and, quite successfully, he had failed to resist the allure of a beautiful model and invited her to exchange bodily fluids.

But Philomena had not been interested in Brent Hughes himself. She had been after the files on his computer.

Thus, once their exertions were over and Brent Hughes had fallen into a deep sleep, Philomena inserted a virus into his laptop in the early hours of the morning.

The virus’s primary function was to scan the computer for keywords in documents and other files, then send the contents out by email. The mastermind therefore learned almost immediately of certain insider information concerning a Wall Street company.

After obtaining the inside information, the mastermind decisively used a shell company to establish another shell company—SDAM.

SDAM then spent twenty million dollars purchasing shares in that company.

The next day, SDAM successfully sold the shares for forty-two million dollars.

A net profit of twenty million dollars overnight—one could not rob a bank much faster than that.

But Brent Hughes, who had worked on Wall Street for so many years, noticed something suspicious about the transaction.

He immediately sought out a computer expert to examine his computer, and they successfully found the virus.

After recalling everyone he had been in contact with recently, Brent Hughes instantly realized that Philomena was behind it. He immediately contacted Attorney Wells of the Securities and Exchange Commission.

The mastermind, who had been monitoring Brent Hughes all along, learned of this and immediately sent someone to put a bullet through Brent Hughes’s head.

Having reached this conclusion, Roan did not hesitate. He quickly ordered Ryder to arrest Yuna Ramirez of the Dancer modeling agency.

Once he had confirmed that Ryder had gathered his equipment and set out, Roan continued speaking into the phone.

“Mona, where is Philomena now?”

In the entire operation, Yuna Ramirez had been responsible for remotely directing Kermit’s stock purchases and sales by telephone, while Philomena had been the one who personally approached Brent Hughes and carried out that part of the plan.

There was a very good chance that both women knew the true identity of the mastermind.

Hearing Roan’s question, Mona, in the office of Investigation Group Five, immediately began typing.

A moment later, her somewhat peculiar voice came through the phone.

“Um, it says here that Philomena is currently at an NYPD precinct.”

Roan and Lacey both froze.

—

NYPD Precinct

When Roan and Lacey arrived, a shapely, attractive white woman was loudly arguing with several female police officers, her face filled with anxiety.

“Hi, Lacey!”

“What brings you here?”

The moment they stepped into the precinct, before Roan had time to react, several white female officers brightened and hurried over to Lacey.

Asking why she had come, two of them openly kissed her several times on the face in front of the others.

“…”

Seeing Lacey calmly handling so many relationships at once without the slightest sign of being exposed, Roan was rendered speechless. His eyes narrowed slightly.

When it came to knowledge he did not possess, Roan had never minded learning more.

Who knew whether he might have a use for it someday? It was always better to be prepared.

“Ahem.”

After exchanging a few words with the officers, Lacey tilted her head toward the woman who was arguing loudly and asked in a low voice, “What’s going on over there?”

“That model came in to file a report. She says her younger sister has gone missing and is in danger, and she wants us to find her immediately.”

An officer with a few freckles on her face slipped an arm around Lacey’s waist and explained quietly, “But based on the information the model gave us, we can’t find any trace of the sister she described. She apparently doesn’t exist, so naturally, there’s nothing we can do to look for her.”

Lacey frowned and turned her gaze toward Roan.

Roan had heard the same thing, but his expression remained unchanged. Just as he was about to speak, the phone in his pocket suddenly rang.

He took it out, stepped aside, and answered. Ryder’s grave voice immediately came through the line.

“Roan, I’ve got bad news. Yuna Ramirez is dead.”

According to Ryder, when he and several SWAT officers arrived at Yuna Ramirez’s home, they found her body in the kitchen.

She had been shot in the side of the head and died on the spot—the exact same manner of death as Brent Hughes.

The precise time of death was unknown, but judging by the scene, it had not happened long ago. Ryder had already called in the crime-scene unit to conduct an examination.

“Good work.”

After listening to Ryder’s account, Roan nodded grimly. He exchanged a few brief words with him, then ended the call.

Seeing the grim expression on Roan’s face, Lacey hurried over and asked in a low voice, “What happened?”

After hearing what Ryder had reported, Lacey’s expression immediately darkened as well.

The mastermind was silencing witnesses even faster than she had imagined.

But Roan was not panicking. There was still one person who knew something.

He walked toward the model nearby, drew out his gold badge, and said sternly, “FBI. We need to ask you some questions.”

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“FBI?”

Hearing Roan’s voice, Philomena, who had been arguing furiously with the female officers, froze for a moment. Panic flashed through her eyes.

Years of experience as a model nevertheless allowed her to recover quickly. She hurriedly kept her expression composed and tilted her head in confusion.

“What do you want with me?”

Roan wasted no time. He told her directly that Brent Hughes was dead.

“What did you say?”

Philomena covered her mouth and cried out in shock, panic spreading across her face.

Roan studied her movements carefully. Her reaction did not appear fake. A host of thoughts flashed through his mind, but he continued in the same expressionless tone.

“We’ve discovered that you may be connected to Brent Hughes’s death. You’re coming with us.”

“No!”

Philomena shook her head repeatedly and shouted, “My sister is missing! She’s in danger! You have to find her, or I’m not going anywhere!”

“Are you sure?”

Roan narrowed his eyes slightly and continued, “Yuna Ramirez is dead too. Just now.”

“…”

At Roan’s words, Philomena went rigid. Terror appeared in her eyes.

After lowering her head and remaining silent for a long while, she looked up at Roan. Her face was deathly pale.

“You FBI agents have to help me find my sister. Otherwise, I will not take a single step out of this NYPD precinct.”

Roan’s expression did not change, but a trace of doubt passed through his mind.

He had just entertained the possibility that Philomena, afraid of being silenced, had invented a sister and come to the police station for refuge.

But that theory could now be thrown in the trash.

The sister Philomena had mentioned seemed to be connected to something else entirely.

End of chapter.