Super Detective in the Fictional World Chapter 883 - The Mysterious Mastermind

Chapter 883: The Mysterious Mastermind

This had to be done.

The HQ director had to praise them for doing a good job, or the frontline officers would be hounding him for months.

Once NYPD officers were mobilized, and had ironclad evidence, most New York gangs could only wait to be wiped out.

The morning sun rose, but Dustin’s face was even darker. “Mobilize your connections and do your best to flush this Billy Jordan out.”

Joe frowned. “Chief, there’s no sign of him at all. I suspect that he’s already been killed.”

Dustin said, “Then we have to find his body.”

John lit a cigarette, his expression no better than Dustin’s. “Chief, this guy is probably already in a cement block at the bottom of the Hudson River. Those people are very familiar with this sort of thing.”

Dustin ignored the man who was smoking in his office. “Then dig out the man who threw Billy into the river.”

At this moment, Connie knocked on the door. When Dustin said, “Come in,” she opened the door and stuck her head in. “Director, Walter’s out of surgery. He’s now in the ICU.”

Dustin stood up. “How is he?”

Connie sighed and said, “He’s not out of danger yet. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow at least to see if his condition stabilizes.”

Dustin nodded. “Did you send someone to look after his family?”

Connie nodded. “Javier and Ryan are already there. They’ll send the station a security signal every ten minutes.”

Dustin nodded. “Tell them not to be careless.”

With that, he looked at the people in the room. “What are you still doing here? Waiting for me to give you lunch?”

It was still early in the morning; even if they ate, it would be breakfast.

Dustin was clearly unhappy about this bunch being in his office, especially the guy who was smoking without the least bit of self-awareness.

But this guy was probably the second or third best fighter under him. He could only hold back.

Luke nudged Selina with his elbow, and they quickly left.

Dustin was in a bad mood. Luke didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire.

Everybody scattered.

Walking out of the room, John stopped Luke and patted his shoulder firmly. “Great work tonight. If you’re doing anything else, however, remember to call me. At the very least, I’m good as backup.”

Luke nodded with a smile and punched John lightly in the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll call you if there’s a chance.”

If there isn’t one or it’s not a good time, I can only apologize, he added silently.

John said, “Hm, then, thanks.”

Luke said, “No need. Walter is my colleague, too.”

After saying goodbye to John, Luke and Selina went home.

He and Selina had been working overtime last night, so they could take a nap.

The Blood Skull members were all in HQ’s detention center. There were plenty of newbies and veterans in the bureau, and all of them were waiting to collect experience and credit from this bunch of sc.u.m; these capable people didn’t care about the interrogations.

When they got home, Gold Nugget was watching TV in the living room.

Seeing the two of them return, it began to whine.

Luke said, “Okay, it just so happens we haven’t had breakfast yet. But didn’t you have a snack last night?”

Gold Nugget barked.

Luke said, “Alright, you’ve already digested it.”

Gold Nugget had come back on its own last night when Luke and Selina were working overtime.

When it went out with them in the past, it would basically be home by midnight.

After all, it was a dog, and would get twitchy if it didn’t sleep. Luke and Selina also didn’t need it to stay up all night.

They washed up, had breakfast, and sorted out the files which they had brought back from the station.

Selina was the first to pause in the work. “There’s no way to tie the case to Kingpin. The crime was committed in the Brooklyn area, and the boss who hired the attackers disappeared. Even if he was the one who ordered it, he cleaned up his tracks too well.”

Luke nodded. “For him to be able to live more and more comfortably under the pressure of the FBI, DEA, and NYPD, of course the guy has to be capable. Otherwise, RICO would’ve long sent him and his accomplices to prison.”

Even though there were no less than 1.4 million gangsters in the United States, they weren’t as glamorous as the movies in Luke’s previous life made them out to be.

Take LAPD and NYPD, for example. Only HQ had an Organized Crime Investigation Bureau, and it had less than a hundred people.

The Major Crimes Division was basically under the jurisdiction of the Organized Crime Investigation Bureau.

After all, gangsters often committed robbery and murder.

And their most common line of business was drug trafficking, which was under the DEA’s purview.

Furthermore, with the FBI’s national coverage, any related department could also stick its nose in.

Most of the time, the Organized Criminal Investigation Bureau just supplied extra aid to other departments, or carried out an investigation into a particularly nasty gang.

Thus, the gangs didn’t have much influence.

Even though there were tens of thousands of gangsters in Los Angeles and New York, the police didn’t attach too much importance to them.

Ever since the RICO Act was launched in the 1970s, gang leaders who had been running amuck for some time either ended up behind bars or stayed low and hid in the dark corners of society.

It was impossible for a gang leader to openly enter the upper levels of society.

That was because under the RICO Act, a person only needed to be shown to have connections to a gang member, including funds, activities, or even just contact, and didn’t have to be proven to be directly involved in a crime, in order to be charged.

From then on, gang leaders could still make a fortune through their illegal dealings, but they couldn’t enter the influential circles of society.

It was nothing like the mafia movies, where the mayor was the gang leader who was pulling strings behind the scenes.

Most gangsters were on the bottom rung of society.

It was only in exceptional circ.u.mstances, like the earthquake in California, when the police would pay attention to them in order to avoid ma.s.s riots.

The rest of the time, they could only sink to the dark bottom of society, like mud in a pond, and die of rot.

Even if there was the occasional gunfight or murder, they would quickly settle again like the mud at the bottom of the lake, and n.o.body would notice them anymore.

In that sense, Kingpin’s existence was extremely rare.

This famous crime lord’s reach had already extended into government bodies in many cities over the years, yet n.o.body knew how to deal with him.

That was because n.o.body knew exactly who or where Kingpin was.

Even though many executive police officers had heard of the name Wilson Grant Fisk, a search of this or similar names throughout the United States didn’t produce a match for Kingpin.

Clearly, the name Wilson Grant Fisk, like the Kingpin t.i.tle, wasn’t what this crime lord usually used in his daily operations.