Chapter 153: Betting Life on a Balcony Jump, Identity of the True Culprit

Office area of Investigation Group 5.

After a moment of silent contemplation, Roan signaled Mona to print out the information and photo of the girl from the computer.

He intended to hand it to Philomena and ask if the girl was indeed the younger sister she was searching for.

If it turned out not to be her sister, there would naturally be no need to inform Philomena about this case, and Mona could simply continue her investigation.

If it really was...

Catching the gazes of Lacey and Mona, Roan said expressionlessly,

"We must inform Philomena of the girl's death. After all, she is the girl's relative."

The information on the computer showed that no one had claimed the girl's body yet.

Even for the sake of handling the girl's funeral arrangements, they owed it to Philomena to break the news.

A few minutes later, Mona finished preparing the girl's information, data, and photographs. Roan took the folder and tilted his head toward Lacey.

Lacey patted her cheeks, stood up, and walked into the interrogation room alongside Roan.

——

The girl was indeed Philomena's younger sister.

Upon learning of her sister's death, Philomena sat frozen in her chair for a long time before finally burying her face in her hands and weeping silently.

"It's all my fault..."

Hearing Philomena's words, Lacey hurried over to comfort her. Once Philomena's emotions had somewhat stabilized, Lacey handed her a tissue and asked in a soft voice,

"Philo, what on earth happened?"

Roan was also somewhat puzzled by Philomena's reaction.

Earlier, he had guessed that upon hearing the news of her sister's death, Philomena might subconsciously deny it.

He had even prepared for her to scream, throw tantrums, or stubbornly refuse to reveal the mastermind who killed Brent Hughes.

Roan had already thought of solutions in advance for such a scenario.

Yet he had not expected Philomena to have seemingly anticipated the possibility of her sister's death all along.

Worse still, she was blaming herself entirely for it.

"It's all my fault."

Hearing Lacey's question, Philomena fell silent for a long time, repeating that phrase before speaking in a low voice:

"After I helped him make some money, his attitude toward me improved a lot.

One night a long time ago, after he finished toying with me, I seized the opportunity to suggest sending a portion of the money I earned back to my family.

Not only did he agree, but he even allowed me to sit right in front of him and chat with my parents over the phone."

Speaking of this, the expression on Philomena's face grew exceptionally complex.

Upon hearing the man's words, Philomena had been overjoyed. She hadn't spoken to her parents on the phone in a very long time, having been restricted to text messages only.

Because the man was sitting directly in front of her during the call, Philomena dared not reveal her plight over the phone.

She could only tell her parents that she was living a good life, that her food, clothing, housing, and transportation were all fine, and that she was earning a considerable amount of money, which was why she was sending some back to help with household expenses.

However, much to Philomena's dismay, her cousin—who had just turned 18—happened to be visiting her home that very evening.

Hearing her cousin boast over the phone about working as a model in New York and living a colorful life every day, the younger cousin immediately conceived the idea of coming to New York to join her.

How could Philomena possibly let her cousin jump into a fiery pit? She had hurriedly hung up the phone.

"But I never imagined she would come to New York anyway."

Covering her face with both hands, Philomena said with a trembling voice,

"Three days ago, an unfamiliar number suddenly called my cell phone. When I answered, I discovered to my shock that it was my cousin!"

The cousin on the other end of the line had been frantic, telling Philomena that she had already arrived in New York, only to be deceived and forced into prostitution.

She had managed to seize the phone while her client was occupied with a good friend, locked herself in the bathroom, and frantically called Philomena.

The cousin begged Philomena to rescue her, but before Philomena could even ask where she was, a man's angry roar echoed through the phone, and the line went dead.

Overwhelmed with panic, Philomena desperately wanted to save her.

Yet she neither knew her cousin's location nor could she call the police, and secondly, she was trapped because she was constantly monitored by men sent by that man.

It wasn't until today that Philomena finally seized an opportunity while an old Wall Street man was showering, risking her life by leaping across balconies, successfully evading the surveillance, and fleeing to the NYPD precinct...

Having heard Philomena's account, Lacey wore a grave expression, her inner feelings deeply tangled.

"Three days ago?"

Roan, sitting to the side, didn't look particularly well either, but he had caught a crucial detail.

The case of the female corpse in the deep coastal pit had been discovered the day before yesterday, while Philomena's cousin had made her phone call three days ago, placing the body's sequential number right around the twenty-first spot among twenty-two victims.

Resting his chin on his hand, Roan muttered to himself in a low voice,

"Philomena's cousin must have been murdered by the killer shortly after making that phone call."

However, Roan kept this deduction to himself rather than sharing it with Philomena, because he still had one vital question to ask:

"Philomena, that man you mentioned—who exactly is he? What's his name?"

"His name is Salvatore Cristo."

Hearing Roan's inquiry, Philomena did not hesitate. She immediately raised her head, speaking through clenched teeth:

"His father was an immigrant from Europe, and he himself has ties to many European-dominated gangs in New York.

As for Salvatore Cristo's public persona, he is the owner of a store that rents out high-end jewelry!"

"OK."

Having secured the identity of the mastermind behind Brent Hughes's murder, Roan decisively nodded, stood up, and prepared to leave the interrogation room.

Just as the door creaked open, Philomena stared at Roan's retreating back and pleaded loudly,

"Agent Roan, I beg you, please help me catch the killer who murdered my cousin!"

Hearing this, Roan paused for a fraction of a second, gave no reply, and strode out of the interrogation room.

Seeing this, Philomena swayed, her face turning deathly pale before she hurriedly shifted her gaze to Lacey.

Philomena was not very familiar with the efficiency of FBI investigations.

Yet since this team of agents had cracked Brent Hughes's case so quickly, Philomena believed they would surely be able to unmask her cousin's murderer with equal speed.

Catching Philomena's pleading gaze, Lacey's eyebrows twitched slightly, but she likewise refrained from making any promises.

Though Lacey sympathized deeply with the harrowing ordeal suffered by the two sisters, cases of that magnitude weren't hers to take simply because she wished to.

Lacey knew she hadn't yet reached that level of clout within Investigation Group 5.

Aside from Supervisor Augustus, the only other person with the authority to decide whether to take on a case was Roan.

Augustus, as the supervisor, naturally held that authority.

And Roan, as the operational leader of the case-solving efforts, not only cracked cases but also routinely brought everyone bonuses.

Though the members of Investigation Group 5 didn't say it aloud, they had practically mentally slotted Roan into the position of deputy team leader.

Thus, Roan certainly possessed the authority to decide whether to accept this new case.

With that realization, Lacey acted as though she hadn't noticed the desperate appeal in Philomena's reddened eyes, and she followed closely behind Roan out of the interrogation room.

"Mona!"

Stepping out of the interrogation room without any hesitation, Roan immediately instructed Mona to track Salvatore Cristo's current location and told Lacey to apply for a search warrant.

"OK!"

Hearing Roan's command, Mona nodded without delay, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

Lacey returned the files to her desk, preparing to leave the office area to obtain the search warrant, but after hesitating for a few seconds, she turned her head toward Roan and asked in a low voice,

"Roan, regarding that coastal serial murder case... what do you... make of it?"

Hearing this, Mona paused her typing and similarly turned her head to look at Roan.