Half an hour later, Michael's wife was taken to the hospital and the police left after surveying the scene.
They thought it was a very common and obvious case of burglary and assault, and frankly in the Baylor Federation such cases are nothing new, there will always be some lazy, poor people who don't want to work who are desperate enough to get some bills by breaking the law.
The cops didn't come up empty handed though, at least they thought it was likely that the criminal who had fled was familiar with Michael's home and knew that Michael had been away on a business trip, that his children were still at school and hadn't returned, and that Michael's wife was the only one in the house.
Even the fact that the robbery turned into an assault became, in the eyes of the police, a piece of evidence that corroborated the fact that the perpetrator most likely knew the family - hatred.
The deserted house was dark and empty, and Lynch entered the yard after rattling the gate with his gloves and closing it again.
He pulled his homemade lock picking tools out of his pocket-a twisted piece modified for a wine opener, and a toggle piece modified for a crochet hook, both of which were available at hardware stores, and tool stores.
The principle of the old-fashioned door lock is very simple, in layman's terms, it is to bet the bullet core into the bullet hole after the lock cylinder can be twisted, the door will be opened.
This is easy to do if you use a key, without a key you need to add some torque to the lock cylinder.
The torque will cause a slight misalignment between the cylinder and the bullet hole, and it is this slight misalignment that is enough to keep the cores from falling out of the bullet hole, and when all the cores are pushed into the correct position by the toggle, the door will be opened.
随着"嘚嘚嘚嘚嘚"的拨动声响了两边后,门锁内发出咯嗒一声,Lynch看了看周围,一拧门把手,顺着门缝进入了房间里.
The room was a bit of a mess, the police had stopped here a little while ago when they came to collect evidence, he took out the flashlight he had with him to light it up and felt his way up to the second floor.
A few minutes later, he found where the den of the house was located.
What people did not expect is that Michael that grumpy investigator actually like to read, looking at the book rule exhibition rows of books, Lynch always think that Michael's books are read into the dog's stomach.
He rummaged around and found a safe, but he didn't move.
He learned how to open this old safe, in fact, as long as the mastery of the principle want to open the lock is not difficult at all, this old rotary wheel combination lock is essentially a rotary wheel set.
By turning at intervals from left to right to change the scale of the different wheels, when the scales are aligned, attached to a small reed on the wheel, or a slot will be in a line, this time to twist the switch, the lock tongue will be able to unimpeded contraction will be inside the cabinet door.
Some movies used a stethoscope approach to discern the sound of the internal rotors as they turned, which did work at first, but soon the manufacturers tinkered with this obvious drawback, and it was hard to hear any movement at all.
But for the skilled craftsman, it's rather easier by feel, which is of course beside the point.
The safe was nothing more than some money, a piece of evidence that would be useful to Michael and not at all to himself, a notebook or something else, which didn't really fit with what he had infiltrated the place for.
He glanced around the room, pulling open a couple of drawers under the desk, and in the drawer on the right he found some change, and with that settled in his mind, he took the gold ring he had with him, put it in the penultimate drawer, and restored everything to its original state, checking it over before he left.
That was one of his main goals for the day, to put that gold ring in Michael's house, and then he needed to get to something else: masthead.
Masthead had escaped without incident at this point; the police detection rate in this era was somewhat abysmally low, and the Bailer Federation didn't have any surveillance systems in place in order to protect individual privacy and public privacy issues, among other reasons.
This also means that all the external features of the physical appearance that are related to the suspect originate from the indirect provision of some clues, as well as some eyewitness accounts.
Without witnesses, the burglary of Lynch's room, for example, would essentially be very difficult to solve unless the suspect planted himself during the next crime and the interrogator had outstanding skills in getting people to confess to what they had done before.
Otherwise, it's better not to expect the police to do anything.
With the slightly more serious nature of this case and the involvement of the head of the IRS investigative team, the Sabine City Police Department has deployed some extra manpower, and they are now waiting for Michael's wife to recover from her shock and for her to provide a more accurate picture of the suspect's face.
The security guard in the neighborhood provided a sketch of the suspect's appearance, except that they were confronting each other on the unlit first floor, all the light was based on the brightness of the neighborhood streetlights, and the security guard used so many ambiguous and uncertain words to describe the man he saw that the sketch of his appearance, obtained through his description, doesn't mean much.
By now the masthead they were searching for was back in his little territory, his heartbeat just recovering from one hundred and eighty mph, and only the pistol clutched tightly in his hand could provide him with some stability.
He felt a little stupid, obviously just wanting to make the woman suffer a little, threaten the other side in the meantime to see if he could get back the evidence that had fallen into Michael's hands.
But somehow all of a sudden a terrible desire took hold of him, so much so that he wanted to make that move.
Now that his emotions had stabilized, he also realized that he had made a big mistake; the woman had seen his likeness, and it was certain to be the kind of profoundness that he could never forget in death.
Tomorrow, or the day after, in less than a week's time wanted notices bearing his portrait will be all over Sabine, there are too many people here who know him, and by the time that happens he'll be dead.
He had been able to fully imagine Michael's shock - up until this point, masthead's heart had been fearful of Michael, and he couldn't change that anymore.
Thinking about this although a little reluctant, he made the decision to leave here, to leave Sabine City, to hide out for a while.
Wait for the wind to blow out after a while, or simply stay out there and don't come back.
He had money in his hand, he had still saved tens of thousands of dollars over the years, and it wasn't even in the bank, it was inside some shoe box in his room.
He still had his gun, and with that money and that gun, he could have gone into hiding in another place, and could have started a small business or gone back to his old one.
Thinking of this he no longer hesitated, ignoring the kids in the dormitory building, and went straight back to his room, rummaged the shoe box out of a pile of seemingly worthless garbage, and after packing up some of the things he couldn't be bothered to throw away, he headed out the door in the dark of the night.
He thought no one had noticed his movements, but a few of the oldest kids in the dorm had.
From the time he'd shot some kid in the thigh yesterday, the kids, who seemed to have become docile again, had actually bred a wave of emotions that masthead himself hadn't even realized were there.
Less than a minute after he left, a few of the oldest children holding a knife used to cut vegetables and some from the construction site "picked up" back, a feet long a sharpened steel bar chased out.
Meanwhile, Lynch had chased him near this side, and he was thinking about how to take care of masthead without a sound when he saw masthead rushing out with a bag on his back, followed closely by a couple of short men in a hurry.