Chereads / Police in Los Angeles / Chapter 170 - Chapter 170: Where Did the Balls Go?

Chapter 170 - Chapter 170: Where Did the Balls Go?

Jack vaguely heard Roscoe exclaim over the phone, and then it seemed like the speakerphone was turned on. "Are you serious? Why didn't Finley call me first? Ah, here comes his call."

"That's a question for Finley. How long until you get to Morrison's house?" Jack asked.

"About 20 minutes," Roscoe replied.

"Alright, see you in 20 minutes."

Jack quickly washed up, went downstairs to buy a fish sandwich, ate it in a few bites, and then drove to the address Finley had given him.

The police chief's home was a sizable villa with a well-manicured lawn at the entrance. The surrounding environment was quite nice, much like the town square—ostentatious on the outside.

However, the villa was now cordoned off with police tape, and two patrol cars were parked by the roadside.

When Jack arrived, Roscoe and Reacher had just arrived as well. The three met without saying much and walked to the entrance where Finley was already waiting.

Jack felt that Finley wasn't so much waiting for them as he was avoiding something inside the villa, as if there was something terrifying within.

"What happened inside?" Roscoe, leading the way, asked.

Finley clenched his right hand and placed it against his mouth, looking a bit nauseous. Roscoe's question seemed to remind him of the horrific scene he had just witnessed.

"The crime scene is worse than any I've seen in Boston. Believe me, I've seen a lot in Boston."

Reacher, always stoic, asked calmly, "Was he nailed to the wall?"

Finley looked up at him in surprise. "How do you know?"

Reacher didn't answer and walked straight inside. Jack followed, adding, "His wife was drained of blood, wasn't she? And she died before him."

Finley's eyes widened, and he quickly followed, seemingly realizing something.

At the entrance, there was no strong feeling, but as they walked through the living room and into the hallway leading to the bedroom, a strong smell of blood hit them, reminiscent of a slaughterhouse.

Jack sniffed the air, detecting a faint smell of latex mixed with the blood, similar to the scent from opening a package of medical latex gloves.

As they entered the bedroom, Roscoe, leading the way, took one look inside, then turned her head away, unable to look any longer. She exclaimed softly, "My God!"

Reacher and Jack carefully avoided the bloody footprints on the floor and entered the room.

The double bed, originally in the center of the bedroom, had been moved and leaned against the wall. On the floor where the bed had been lay a blood-soaked female corpse, face down, obscuring her features.

Judging by the old-fashioned silk nightgown soaked in blood and the skin on her neck, she appeared to be a middle-aged woman. Her fingers were clawing at the carpet so desperately that several nails had broken off, indicating the immense pain she endured before death.

More horrifying was Morrison, the police chief they had encountered at the station, known for his hostile attitude towards Reacher. He was naked, arms spread out, and nailed to the wall in a crucifixion pose with six thick steel nails.

Jack noted that if Morrison lowered his head, his gaze would fall directly on the female corpse on the floor. This scene matched exactly what Paul had described to them in prison.

A young coroner was using a voice recorder to describe the scene, while his assistant took photos.

Reacher seemed unaffected by the bloody scene. After carefully observing it, he turned his gaze to Jack, who was also examining the scene meticulously.

Jack pointed to several spots where there were gaps in the bloodstains and footprints.

"There were four intruders in the room. They wore coveralls or something similar, as evidenced by the clear blood splatter near their footprints."

"These were professionals. The footprints are identical but vary in size, indicating they wore rubber shoe covers. There are several places where blood smudges show finger impressions but no fingerprints, meaning they wore latex gloves."

"Both bodies are covered in knife wounds, but aside from the final fatal cut to the male victim's neck, the other wounds are shallow, likely inflicted with a serrated blade for the purpose of torture."

"Based on the wounds and blood loss, the female victim was tortured for over an hour. It's hard to determine if she died from pain or blood loss; we'll need the autopsy results for that."

After hearing Jack's preliminary analysis, Reacher shrugged as Jack looked at him. "You covered it all. I have nothing to add."

"Oh, holy shit, his balls are cut off."

The young coroner suddenly screamed, startling everyone.

"Gaspar, stay professional. Swearing shows a lack of mental toughness," Finley scolded, showing none of his earlier nausea.

"Sorry, the body under the bridge was my first case, and now this..."

The young coroner named Gaspar forced a grim smile.

"Where the hell are his balls?" He faced Finley but looked around, seemingly searching.

"In his esophagus (stomach)," Jack and Reacher answered simultaneously, giving similar responses.

The young coroner dropped his recorder in shock, standing frozen.

Finley's face turned dark as a pot. "You two, come with me."

Outside the villa, a few curious townspeople stood outside the police line, watching. The other two officers from Margrave's police department, bald Officer Baker and the honest-looking young Officer Stevenson, were talking by a patrol car.

Seeing the group exit the villa, Stevenson left his companion and quickly approached Finley.

"Detective, what happened to the chief? Baker won't tell me."

Finley sighed. "You can go see for yourself, but I don't recommend it."

Stevenson nodded and started to head inside, but stopped, seeming to remember something. He looked at Reacher and Jack, then pulled Roscoe aside to speak privately.

Unfortunately, they didn't go far enough, and Jack could clearly hear their conversation.

"My cousin Charlie is worried. She called me several times. Her husband Paul didn't come home last night. I know you're close with Charlie. Can you check on them? I have to guard the scene and can't leave."

Roscoe nodded. "No problem. I'll go right after this. I'm already working on Paul's case and planned to visit anyway."

Finley was visibly losing patience, ready to explode.

"Alright, enough games. When are you two going to..."

Jack interrupted before he could finish.

"Let's find a quieter place to talk. I think Roscoe has a lot of questions too."

Roscoe, just returning to the group, looked at Reacher and nodded. "Let's go to my place. It's secluded and should be 'quiet' enough."

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