Los Angeles Legendary Sleuth

After understanding the basic situation, Luke dialed Maggie's number, but the phone was no longer reachable.

Luke pondered for a moment and sent Maggie a simple text message, 'Maggie, if you're in danger, you can contact me directly.'

Luke wasn't sure if Maggie would see the message, but he had done everything he could.

Luke opened the bathroom door and saw Baron Ackman curled up on the ground. He said, "Buddy, you're in big trouble this time. It's not just about two threatening letters; you're involved in a major terrorist plot."

Baron Ackman shook his head, showing a panicked expression. "I swear, I didn't know anything before and never intended to be part of a terrorist plot. I just delivered two letters, that's all."

"Think about it. If it was just two letters, how could that guy Martin give you eighty thousand US Dollars?

This amount of money could buy two lives on the black market." Luke snorted, "Once involved in a terrorist case, your charges become serious.

Friendly advice, prepare yourself for prison.

Oh, and we also need to recover those eighty thousand US Dollars."

"No no no, please don't do this, or my life will be completely ruined.

I beg you, Officer Lee, please spare me.

I really didn't mean to harm you, nor did I think things would be this serious."

"I'm giving you an opportunity now, as long as you follow my instructions, I can help you turn informant."

"I'm willing. What do I need to do?"

"Simple, help me set up a meeting with Martin."

"I told you, he usually doesn't turn on his phone. I can't reach him."

"Then send a text; as soon as he turns on his phone, he'll see it."

Baron Ackman looked concerned, "I've never texted him before, and if I suddenly ask to meet, won't he get suspicious?"

"That's possible." Luke nodded, "So, you need to use some subtlety when arranging the meeting."

"What kind of subtlety?"

"Don't directly ask to meet him or inquire about his whereabouts; just talk about money."

Baron Ackman was silent for a moment and then said, "I'll just tell him I owe too much money, that eighty thousand US Dollars isn't enough to pay off my debts, and the creditors are hounding me for money, making it impossible for me to deal with Officer Lee peacefully.

I need more money to pay my debts."

"That's the idea. Emphasize the urgency for money.

Make it clear that if he doesn't pay, things could go south.

By then, he'll request to see you."

"I understand." Baron Ackman nodded quickly.

...

8 PM.

Las Vegas, Bethel Bar.

Baron Ackman sat by the bar, looking a bit anxious, holding a glass of whiskey, taking a sip from time to time, scanning his surroundings.

A white man wearing a baseball cap and sporting a big beard approached, patting Baron Ackman on the shoulder with his rough hand.

Baron Ackman was startled and quickly turned around, "Martin, you're here."

Martin said nothing, tapping his right index finger on the bar counter, "A Gibson, please."

The bartender quickly prepared a drink and placed it in front of Martin.

Martin left a ten-dollar bill and nodded his head at Baron Ackman, then picked up his drink and moved to a corner table.

Baron Ackman swallowed hard, picked up his glass, followed, and sat down opposite him.

"Martin, I need money."

Martin glared at him, took a sip of his drink, and sneered, "I already gave you eighty thousand US Dollars, you greedy bastard."

"I owe too much; eighty thousand US Dollars isn't enough. I need your help."

"You're not asking for help; you're extorting me.

You unscrupulous scoundrel."

"I really didn't intend to extort you. I'm just desperate, and you're the only one who can help."

Martin stroked his beard, "How much do you need?"

"Fifty thousand US Dollars, just fifty thousand will do."

"Fuck! Fifty thousand US Dollars, do you think I run a bank?

Who gave you the courage to casually utter that number?

Don't even think about it."

"But I really need the money. If I don't repay it, those damn creditors won't let me go.

I'm worried they'll cause trouble at the hotel…

It might jeopardize your big plan."

Martin stared at Baron Ackman with cold eyes, "Damn you, you're actually threatening me."

"I'm not threatening you; I'm telling the truth.

Consider it a loan from you. I'll definitely pay it back."

"I'd be foolish to believe a gambler would repay the money." Martin exhaled deeply, seemingly suppressing his anger, "Twenty thousand US Dollars.

I'll give you twenty thousand more to settle those creditors and then handle the task well.

Before Thanksgiving, that cop can't leave Las Vegas, understand?"

"Got it. As long as I get that twenty thousand, I can handle it."

"Haha." Martin chuckled, but his smile was icy, "You really are a greedy bastard."

"When will you give me the money?"

"Wait here; I'll get the money." Martin downed his drink, stood up, and patted Baron Ackman on the shoulder with his right hand, "Remember, there won't be a next time."

"I understand." Baron Ackman nodded, picking up his drink and took a sip.

Martin left the bar and turned into a nearby alley where a gray Buick was parked not far away.

Martin opened the rear door and got into the car.

There was a Hispanic man in the driver's seat who turned and asked, "How did it go?"

"That bastard asked for fifty thousand US Dollars; I agreed to give him twenty."

The Hispanic man cursed, "I can't believe we are being extorted by an idiot."

"The boss's orders are paramount; the rest can wait." Martin opened a box on the back seat and took out twenty thousand US Dollars in cash.

"After Thanksgiving, I swear I'm going to smash his damn skull." The Hispanic man swung his fist vigorously.

"Count me in." Martin chuckled, holding the money as he stepped out of the car.

The Hispanic man lit a cigarette, and soon the car was filled with smoke.

A while later, the rear door of the car opened, and someone got inside. The Hispanic man turned and said, "Back so soon…"

However, before he finished, he saw a shadow in the backseat swing fast towards his head, with a dull 'bang' sound, he was knocked out cold.

Luke got out from the back of the car, dragged the Hispanic man out of the driver's seat, handcuffed him, and threw him into the trunk.

After doing all this, Luke locked the car and hid in the shadows.

Five minutes later, Martin entered the alley, walked to the car, and tugged on the door, but it didn't open.

"Open up."

There was no response.

Martin was startled and reached for his waist with his right hand.

"Don't move! Or I'll shoot." A voice suddenly came from behind him.

Martin stopped his movements.

"Put your hands up!"

Martin broke out in a cold sweat and slowly raised both hands.

Then, a great force from behind pinned him against the car and searched him.

His handgun, phone, and dagger were all found.

He didn't dare resist, let alone look back, as he could vaguely feel a cold gun barrel against his back.

"Get to the driver's seat, slowly."

Martin followed the order and walked to the driver's seat, opened the door, and saw his Mexican accomplice was no longer inside, "Who are you?"

The voice behind did not answer, but ordered, "Get in."

Martin took a deep breath, unwilling as he was, he still followed the command and sat in the driver's seat, then a cold handcuff was thrown at him.

"Handcuff your left hand to the steering wheel."

Following the order, Martin handcuffed his left hand to the steering wheel and glanced at the person who had taken him hostage. It was a tall young man with black hair.

Luke Lee.

"How did you find me?

Where is my accomplice?" Martin, in panic, asked two questions in succession.

However, Luke did not answer and got into the back seat, ordering, "Drive."

Martin took a deep breath, forced himself to calm down, then slowly started the car, "Where to?"

"Out of town.

Drive properly, no tricks, I have no qualms about shooting someone like you.

Understand?"

"Listen, Officer Lee, I think there might be some misunderstanding here, there's no need to do this." Martin's voice carried a hint of pleading.

"Willing to spend a hundred thousand US Dollars on a misunderstanding, you must be quite the genius." Luke chuckled, "From now on, you can shut up, drive, and speak when we get there."

Martin's left hand was cuffed to the steering wheel, with a gun pointed at his back, leaving him no room for resistance.

He could only follow Luke's instructions, driving the Buick out of town.

The further he drove, the more desolate the surroundings became, and the more panicked he felt.

Half an hour later, the car reached a vast wasteland, and Martin drove into it as ordered, giving him an even worse premonition.

Stop, pull the handbrake.

Luke tossed the handcuff key to Martin, telling him to unlock the cuffs and get out of the car.

Martin stepped onto the sandy ground, looking at the dark desert around him, his heart sinking, "Why did you bring me here?"

Luke did not answer, tossing him a shovel, "Dig a hole."

Martin stood frozen, shaking his head, "Please, don't kill me, I never intended to harm you, there's really no need for this."

Luke pointed to the trunk, "Your partner is right there. If you don't dig, I'll have him dig instead.

And you, all you have to do is lie down in it."

"Please, spare me.

Killing me won't do you any good."

Luke shrugged, "Maybe, but it won't do any harm either.

The car you drove, the hole you dug, then you were buried alive by your Mexican accomplice.

Your accomplice fled deep into the desert to avoid capture, or perhaps escaped to Mexico, no one will find him, it will forever remain an unsolved case.

I've even thought of the motive for you, unequal distribution of the spoils."

Hearing this, Martin's legs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground, pleading, "I'm just a small player, not worth you putting so much effort into this.

Whatever you want, I'll give it to you, we still have thirty thousand US Dollars in the car, you can take it all."

"You should know how much I charge for my services, do you think I came here for that thirty thousand?"

"As long as you spare me, I'll do anything you want."

Luke asked, "What's your name?"

"Martin Simic."

"Why did Baron Ackman trick me to Las Vegas?"

"Those were orders from our boss."

"Who is your boss?"

"Bobby Lucero."

"Why did he do this?"

"His target is not you, but Walker Baruch and his daughter.

Walker Baruch's daughter is your brother's girlfriend. Our boss was worried you would interfere, so he lured you to Las Vegas."

"Why target Walker Baruch and his daughter?"

"This father and daughter joined the witness protection program three years ago, our task is to capture or kill them before Thanksgiving."

"Why did this father and daughter join the witness protection program?"

"I don't know."

"Why capture them before Thanksgiving?"

"I'm just a small role; my task was to lure you to Las Vegas, I don't know about the rest."

"How far have you progressed in your mission now?"

"According to previous information, our people found the whereabouts of this father and daughter, but they were protected, so they escaped.

We are still tracking them."

"What about my brother?"

Martin swallowed, his forehead covered in a fine sheen of sweat, "The boss sent someone to follow him, hoping to find Maggie through him.

But, don't worry, your brother is not in danger.

We know you have influence in Los Angeles, we won't touch your family."

"Where is your boss?"

"Los Angeles."

"Specific address?"

"I don't know."

"How to contact him?"

"He usually calls me; his phone number is 310 854 2734."

"How many people does Bobby Lucero have under him?"

"I don't know the exact number, I was temporarily recruited by him."

"Since Walker Baruch and his daughter are in the witness protection program, how did you know their whereabouts?"

"Bobby Lucero didn't say, but I suspect he has internal information."