Chapter 1107: Evil people also have love?
"Welcome. Welcome"
Seeing three handsome men and beautiful women walking into the living room, the old Latino man on the sofa put down the cigar he had only taken two or three puffs on and stood up with some difficulty.
Caesar Calderon is not tall, barely able to stand shoulder to shoulder with Beckett in flat shoes. He is wearing an embroidered silk shirt with a very obvious South American style, but hanging from his neck is a small piece of cheap turquoise. Stringed silver necklace.
This jewelry is somewhat inconsistent with his identity. According to the information sent by the DEA, before Calderon "retired from the world", he laundered at least nearly 100 million US dollars in funds. .
Jack's eyes swept over the Cuban cigar box on the table and the wine bottles on the small bar next to it. These luxuries were in line with the assets he owned.
Although the information says that Calderon is only in his early 60s, whether it is his gray hair and beard, his wrinkled neck skin like chicken skin, or his slightly slow movements, he gives people a A very heavy feeling of twilight.
Jack had no interest in dealing with this kind of drug lord. He completely ignored the other person's outstretched hand and stepped aside, leaving Beckett to take charge.
"Mr. Calderon, I am Detective Kate Beckett, and this is Detective Jack Tavole here to assist, and"
Beckett had a fake face. With a fake smile, he shook hands with the other party.
Calderon's self-cultivation was good, and he did not get angry because of Jack's unfriendly attitude, or perhaps his attention had been completely attracted by the great writer.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, beautiful lady, and you, sir, need no introduction, I am a huge fan of your novels.”
Hold Cassel’s hand, Calder Long's feeble voice couldn't help but raise the pitch a little. Although he was speaking in English, his Spanish accent was very heavy, and the rhythm of his speech was deliberately slowed down, giving people the illusion that he was watching a Mexican TV series.
“Whenever I want to look back on my early days of blood and fire, I will turn to your novels and look for that feeling. Of course, your new book is also quite good. I can even say , Nikki Fyego is my favorite protagonist."
Casel showed a slightly confused expression, but then suddenly realized, "Ah, I think you are talking about Nikki Hitt. Right? ”
He subconsciously glanced at Beckett next to him. The "Nikki Hitt" series, based on the beautiful police detective, has now written its third book. Shangri-La Company is negotiating with a big writer for the TV adaptation rights of the first two books.
"No, I'm talking about Nikki Fjego. I read the Spanish translation. Have you read the Spanish translation of your novel?"
No waiting card Serge replied, and Calderon said to himself, "You should read it. Whatever is described in Spanish will become more exciting and romantic."
While speaking, his eyes were still open. The resident looked Beckett up and down, obviously recognizing the prototype of Nikki Fryego.
"So, a best-selling author and a charming police detective and an FBI" Calderon glanced at Jack, who was still expressionless, and stretched out his hand to motion for everyone to sit down on the sofa in the living room.
The middle-aged man who opened the door for the three people at the beginning walked behind Calderon and looked at them with vigilant eyes.
".What's the point?" Calderon still maintained his unhurried tone, as if this could conceal his obviously weak voice.
Casel glanced at Jack and saw that he still had no intention of speaking, so he took the initiative to explain his purpose, "We are investigating a murder case and need your help."
Carl Deron seemed to have been chatting with Cassel, but in fact he had been secretly observing Jack. For some reason, from the moment the FBI entered the door, he felt like a thorn in his back.
In other words, what Jack did in Mexico were all high-level secret operations. If he knew how much blood of South American drug lords the FBI in front of him had on his hands, he would probably be restless by now.
Withdrawing his attention from Jack, Calderon calmed down and looked at Beckett, who was taking out information from the file bag. "Ah, it sounds interesting. Who is the victim?" But the female detective's answer made him confused. His pretended relaxed smile instantly disappeared from his face, "Valerie Monroe? No, Valerie is dead?"
He looked at Casse in disbelief Well, the great writer smiled back at him without knowing why.
"What is your relationship with Dr. Monroe?" Beckett noticed his expression and asked softly.
“She”
Calderon opened his mouth, and his already weak voice sounded like he was talking in his sleep or talking to himself, "She is mine."
".She is my personal doctor. ." His lips trembled and he struggled to say these words. He closed his eyes and showed pain, and it took him a while to recover.
"I have a heart problem. I had a heart attack six months ago. At that time, my brother Manuel took me to the hospital."
Speaking of which , Calderon looked back at the middle-aged man standing behind him. The middle-aged man's appearance was indeed somewhat similar to his, and he looked back at his brother with a worried expression.
Calderon stood up with some difficulty while holding on to the armrest of the sofa, walked to the small bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey, "Valerie was on duty at the time, and she took care of me, so I gave it to her. An extra job, being my personal doctor”
The drug lord seemed to have aged ten years in an instant. He tremblingly picked up the glass and drank it down in one gulp. Then he breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that the alcohol had given him the strength to continue talking.
“From that day on, my brother will take care of me two days a week, and Valerie will be in charge of the other five days.”
The three people on the sofa looked at each other, all looking at each other. There was a bit of surprise in each other's eyes.
Although I have long guessed that the relationship between the two is not simple, judging from this person's behavior at this moment, it seems that he is truly emotionally moved.
Forty thousand dollars a month is indeed a little less to keep a mistress, at least not in line with the "identity" of this big drug lord. But if it is a private doctor, this price can be said to be generous, but it cannot be considered. Outrageous.
"So she is just your personal doctor?" Beckett asked.
The female police detective is just making a routine inquiry and does not expect to get a frank confession from the other party, because it can be seen from the drug lord's covert narrative just now that he obviously does not want to speak frankly about the relationship between the two. Real relationship.
However, unexpectedly, Calderon put the wine glass back on the bar and said loudly as if he had figured something out.
“No, she was my miracle star, Valerie brought me back into the world and my faith in life.”
Calderon’s Her lips trembled, as if declaring, "She will force me to go for a walk in the park and relax with me"
He lowered his eyelids and did not continue speaking. After a moment of silence, he looked at Beckett with a sinister look, "Whoever does such an evil thing must pay the price for it."
"This This is also the purpose of our coming, to find the murderer of Dr. Monroe, Mr. Calderon." Beckett still had a businesslike tone.
"Where were you between 7 and 9 o'clock last night?"
"I was right here." The fierce light in Calderon's eyes disappeared and he walked back to his Sitting down in front of the sofa, "I ordered room service, and the hotel staff can prove it."
(End of Chapter)