Chapter 930 Mailbox
After leaving Franz's house, Jack looked at the time. He learned about the case from Stella Bonacilla the night before, and then spent the day arranging matters for the classes. .
Including but not limited to handovers with the NYPD, contacting Joey Reacher and using his FBI authority to search for the whereabouts of Jack Reacher. Then he contacted the BAU team that was dealing with a pervert in Pennsylvania, and I borrowed their Gulfstream early this morning and headed straight to Arkansas.
After returning to New York, the two of them visited Franz's widow non-stop. By now, it was already 5 o'clock in the afternoon.
Flatbush is located in the central area of Brooklyn, and its main thoroughfare is called Flatbush Avenue. Jack found this tiny office by counting the house numbers.
Although there are some traffic jams on the road, it only takes less than 20 minutes to get here from Franz's house. It can even be said that driving is a waste. Walking might be faster.
Jack raised his head and glanced at the stores on both sides of the office. On the left was a comic book store, and on the right was a kitchenware store. If it weren’t for the sign of "Sanhe Consulting" hanging on the glass door, he might have thought it was this store. The entrance to the apartment upstairs.
“For a private detective dealing with Wall Street, this place is not too low-key?” Jack turned around and looked around again. The location here is actually not bad. There are no tents on the sidewalk and no tents on the ground. No needles.
"Low-key and simple, close to home, and able to spend more time with his family, it is indeed a place Franz would choose." Reacher took out the key and walked to the door, when he saw the pry marks near the door lock. Shi paused slightly.
Although Franz’s wife gave her a set of keys, there were actually only three keys on the keychain. One was Franz’s house key, one was her office key, and one was hers. I can't tell, it looks like a key on some kind of safe.
At this time, Reacher had already opened the door of the office. Although he was mentally prepared, Jack still sighed when he saw the mess inside. It looked like a tornado had blown through it. It seemed that there was no need to expect anything. What a gain.
Franz’s office is not big, a room of no more than 60 square meters at most, with a simple partition made of glass doors, divided into two areas: inside and outside.
At this time, both inside and outside, people feel like they have nowhere to stay. All the lined sofas or chairs have been cut to pieces with knives, and the cabinets and drawers have also been damaged. He was pulled out and dumped the contents onto the floor.
Rachel lowered his head and examined it for a moment, then said firmly, "It looks like the other party didn't find anything."
Jack was a little surprised how he could see it, and the big man pointed at the space between the inside and outside. The broken glass at the partition said,
"If it was something with a clear goal, it wouldn't be so troublesome. They spent a lot of time and got nothing. When they left, they picked up the phone and smashed the glass there. This was a pure act of venting."
"It sounds like you are more proficient in psychology than me."
Jack said, picking up a broken chair and shaking it, "But what they are looking for shouldn't be big, at least. It must be able to fit into a small hidden compartment, otherwise there is no need to break four chair legs to see if it is hollow inside."
After finishing speaking, he noticed that Reacher didn't seem to react and turned around to look. The big man was picking up a broken photo frame and looking at it in a daze.
“Is this the group you led back then?” Jack stepped forward curiously and took a look. In the photo frame was a group photo of a group of people in front of a campfire.
There are a total of 7 men and 2 women in the photo, all wearing camouflage uniforms or military T-shirts. Everyone is smiling, including Reacher.
“It’s like yesterday.” The big man muttered to himself.
Jack looked at the photo and then at Reacher. It is not without benefit that some people look a bit older. Franz in the photo looks like a young man in his early 20s, which is different from the 30-year-old in the profile. The difference is huge.
There is basically no difference between Lei Che himself and the photo, the same vicissitudes of life.
The two did not spend too much time in Franz's office because they had no idea what they were looking for. When they left, Rachel took out the key again and prepared to lock the door, but Jack watched Across the street mused. "Can you show me the bunch of keys?"
Rachel was stunned for a moment and handed the key in his hand to Jack.
Jack picked out the key that seemed to be on the safe, and tilted his head towards the other side of the street, "Do you think this might be the mailbox key? Unexpectedly, it is very safe, and you don't even need it. For real-name registration, just cross the street when needed.”
The U.S. Post Office provides a private mailbox service, which is a row of cabinets in the post office that can only be opened with your own key.
Rachel's eyes lit up, he quickly crossed the road, and then frowned as he looked at the combination lock at the post office door.
"It's already five forty now." Jack, who followed, shook his cell phone to indicate the time.
The United States Post Office (USPS), also known as the Federal Postal Service, is one of the few state-owned enterprises in this country. Thanks to the fact that this country still uses paper letters to send bills, in this information age, the USPS processes The number of letters accounts for a quarter of the global total.
However, like all state-owned enterprises, the post office's off-duty hours are also horribly punctual. It closes at 5 o'clock and will not wait even a second longer.
"Can't you use your FBI privileges to open the door? I hate guessing passwords." Reacher was a little depressed.
"I'm just a private detective now, and the post office has its own law enforcement unit. I don't recommend you break in." Jack is talking about the famous postal police.
The first people in federal history to use the term Special Agent were the Postal Police, and the Postal Inspection Service to which they are affiliated is also one of the oldest federal law enforcement agencies in the United States.
As early as the 18th century, after Benjamin Franklin was appointed as the first Postmaster General of the United States, the United States Postal Inspection Service was born.
Later, the name Special Agent was changed to Postal Inspector (Inspector) and continues to this day, but its attributes as an enforcer have not changed.
Jack did not know the postal police, but this did not prevent him from asking friends who knew these people for help. An hour later, when Reacher’s stomach began to growl, Danny Regan took An old man with a white beard appeared in front of them.
The old man opened the combination lock for them very simply. Rachel stood in front of a row of cabinets with the keys and tried them one by one.
"Normally, I should ask you to produce a search warrant." The old man muttered with some dissatisfaction.
"A bottle of Jack Daniels' No. 7 Black Label, Uncle Ed, the best bourbon my dad collected." Danny smiled and hugged the old man's shoulders.
"Try the big cabinet below. As a private detective, Franz should have a lot of mail." Jack prompted.
With a "click", Reacher opened the mailbox on the far left and took out a large stack of letters.
(End of this chapter)