American Detective: Starting as a Rookie Cop in an American TV Show

Chapter 1473 The Visit (Part 2)

"Is there a problem?"

The door opened, and a red-haired woman appeared behind it.

The woman is no longer young; she is at least considerably older than Gen, perhaps not yet 40, but probably not far off.

Whether it's the undisguised crow's feet at the corners of her eyes when she smiles, the obvious nasolabial folds on both sides of her nose, or the forehead wrinkles that appear on her forehead when she smiles with slight surprise upon seeing Jack and Root, these two uninvited guests, all of these indicate that she is no longer young.

But Jack believes she must have been very beautiful when she was young.

In today's society, praising a woman for her elegance is usually considered a skillful compliment. If the attitude is not sincere enough, it may even be seen as sarcasm.

But the red-haired woman in front of me was indeed very elegant, gentle and intellectual, and had an aura that could calm people down.

“Excuse me for interrupting.” Jack flashed his signature business smile, revealing four perfectly white teeth on each side. “I’m Detective Danny Regan, and this is my partner, Kate Beckett.”

As he spoke, he lifted the hem of his jacket, revealing the police badge pinned to his right hip.

The badges worn by federal agents are very different from those worn by NYPD agents. Like most FBI agents, he rarely wears a badge on his belt and prefers to show his identification directly.

But the NYPD badge that Jack is showing is not fake; it was personally awarded by Chief Reagan. He even has a fake file in the NYPD's database for future use.

“Someone reported that things haven’t been very peaceful around Greenwich Village lately. My partner and I happen to be passing by today. Would you mind if we went inside to check it out?”

"Oh, really? I live here alone, and the neighborhood has always been safe. I haven't heard of any disturbances around here at night." The woman was somewhat surprised.

"Perhaps it's just some kids' prank, or maybe it's some old man's overreaction," Jack continued, smiling and shrugging, his tone carrying a hint of complaint.

"As you know, this is usually the job of the patrol officers, but we just happened to be passing by today, and we also owe some people a small favor, so we're just doing it as a routine matter."

The woman's gaze lingered on the disposable paper cup in his hand for a moment, then glanced at Root beside Jack, and in that instant, she imagined countless scenarios.

It's probably nothing more than an office romance, or a couple using a task as an excuse to actually go for a walk in the park. I can't help but show a playful smile that says, "I see through your charade, but I won't call you out on it."

"Alright then, I just happened to brew a pot of black tea. Perhaps we can also enjoy some cookies together for afternoon tea."

It must be said that Root is indeed very talented in some aspects. She even blushed instantly, raised her hand and lightly punched Jack, then pointed to a stack of mailed magazines on the steps, which the postman had obviously just placed there.

"As a gentleman, shouldn't you help this lady carry her things inside?"

Before the other party could refuse, Jack bent down and picked up the thick stack of magazines.

"Okay, thank you so much."

The woman stepped aside to let the two "detectives" into the house, and introduced herself, saying, "I am Grace Hendrix, just call me Grace. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The room is a bit messy, I hope you don't mind.

Jack glanced down at the magazines in his hands. There were at least 50 identical copies in this thick stack. He recognized the magazine's name; it was the famous fashion magazine "Runway." He couldn't help but feel a little curious.

"This is the first time I've ever seen someone collect so many fashion magazines at once."

"I guess so," Grace laughed awkwardly, unsure how to explain. "They sometimes send me magazines that feature my work."

It wasn't until Jack walked into the living room and saw the easels that he realized, "Ah, so you're a cover and illustration artist."

“Yes, does it sound a bit old-fashioned? I know, everything is digital now, and the traditional printing industry is being phased out.”

Grace counted on her fingers, looking a little embarrassed, "But every time I think I'm definitely going to be out of work, some magazines or newspapers will call me, so..."

She shrugged like Jack had before. "I guess I probably have a guardian angel."

Finch, that guy, tsk tsk, Jack shook his head inwardly, silently labeling him as a warm-hearted man and someone who abuses his power for personal gain.

In fact, it was this issue of Runway magazine that brought him here. The fashion icon Miranda had called him a while ago to ask if he wanted to offer a long-term contract to a painter named Grace Hendrix.

Jack was taken aback by the question at the time. He later asked Chris and found out that the request came from Finch, and after being relayed through Justin, it went through a long detour before finally reaching Miranda.

As mentioned in the previous murder case at Skybridge magazine (Chapter 1274), the magazine and its parent company, Elias Clark, have now been acquired by Shangri-La.

Miranda could not possibly refuse such a small request from the upper echelons of the group. Although as a fashion magazine, its content mainly consists of model photos, it is not entirely devoid of the need for hand-drawn illustrations and backgrounds.

The painter recommended by a senior executive of the group was quite good, which pleased Miranda, the editor-in-chief. She even considered signing a long-term contract with him, but she was unsure of the intentions of her superiors.

So Miranda, worried that her flattery might backfire, thought of Jack, an FBI agent who seemed mysterious but was said to have "all-powerful connections."

The man immediately thought of Vinci's mysterious fiancée, so he asked for the painter's address, which led to today's visit.

When Grace returned to the living room carrying a tray of black tea and snacks, Root was holding a framed photograph of Finch and Grace.

"Is this your husband?" Gen asked knowingly.

“Ah, that’s Harold, my fiancé.” Grace put down the tray and took the photo frame from Root’s hands.

"He seems like a nice guy," Jack said, seemingly casually but politely.

Grace gently brushed the dust off the photo frame with her fingers, nodded slightly and smiled, "Yes, he's a really nice guy. In fact, I never thought I would meet a man who understands me so well."

A blissful smile spread across her face, a smile that drew envy. "You know, if you spend all your time painting, it means you're destined to be single."

But Harold approached me. I was painting in the park that day, and then this guy suddenly appeared in New York in January, smiling at me while eating an ice cream cone, and even asked if I wanted one too. "Can he really pick up girls like that? Did Finch somehow get some kind of 'machine' cheat code?"

As Jack was inwardly grumbling, his smile suddenly froze slightly. Maybe it really was true.

The machine has the ability to understand human emotions, and Finch, as its creator, is, in turn, the machine's first learning sample.

Finch had previously said that the "machine" had developed feelings for him similar to a child's dependence on their parents, and had even acted in a way that protected him.

So it seems quite reasonable for a "child" to want to find a companion for their single "dad" and a mom for themselves, right?

Root's acting skills are absolutely the best Jack has ever seen, without exception. Upon hearing this, a blush rose to her cheeks, and she glanced at Jack with a shy yet reproachful look, as if the two were truly a couple.

So you live together? Do you have any plans to get married?

“No, oh no, or rather, it used to be, uh, it used to be.” Upon hearing this question, Grace instantly lost the happy smile that had been on her face as she reminisced about sweet memories.

After a moment of silence, she seemed to regain her courage, rearranged the photo frame, and forced a smile at the two guests. "I lost him two years ago because of an accident."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry about that." Gen, with tears in his eyes, grasped Grace's hands, as if moved by her feigned strength.
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"She's so lovely. To be honest, I don't know how Harold can bear the loss of her. He's such a cold-blooded bastard, both to others and to himself."

He smiled and waved goodbye to Grace, but when he turned back, his expression remained unchanged, though his tone carried a hint of indignation.

Jack, with the same smirk, spoke with sarcasm: "It's astonishing to hear such a lament from an antisocial person."

“I’m not an antisocial person.” Root glared at Jack, her previous feigned docile demeanor completely gone.

"Although sometimes I really wish I were that kind of person, so that it would be much easier when I want to do something necessary."

She clung tightly to Jack's arm as she had when they arrived, and the handsome man and beautiful woman attracted the attention of many passersby. Although Jack was completely unmoved at the moment, he was even wary of whether the woman beside him might suddenly cause trouble.

“I think you might have some misunderstanding about me, Agent Tawall. I don’t like killing, but sometimes you have to, because when you’re all alone.”

Root's voice softened again, only to be interrupted by Jack's sneer.

What does this woman take him for? The kind of idiot who gets scammed out of 50 yuan, then turns around and forgives the other person just because they shed a single tear of "repentance," and hugs his white moonlight tightly to the background music of "Can We Be Together?"

Whether to forgive or not is one thing, but first, we should get that 50 yuan back. Isn't 50 yuan a lot of money? It's enough for an average family to save for a lifetime.

"In your eyes, how many humans don't fall into the 'error code' category? Actually, there's something I'm quite curious about."

That librarian, Ms. Barbara Russell, you spared her life and sent her a copy of "Flowers for Algernon" every year.

Was the intention to drive her to death by guilt, or was it to wait for her to have a sudden realization and reveal Hana's whereabouts one day?

Jack stopped and stared intently into Root's eyes. "Or rather, the only reason Barbara is still alive is because you think she knows nothing about Hannah's whereabouts, so you chose a simple way to torture her."

Or perhaps you still hold onto a sliver of hope, like Hannah's mother, that she might still be alive somewhere in this world?

Gen stood frozen in place, a fleeting sadness in his eyes replaced by a raging fire of anger.

Jack raised his hand to block the slap she was about to deliver, then gripped the woman's slender arm tightly. "Okay, now I can confirm that you're not an antisocial personality, just a wild Texas country girl who lacked discipline from a young age and whose personality went astray."

They remained silent for the rest of the journey until Jack parked the car in the underground garage of the base building. Before getting out of the car, Gen slowly said, "No matter what, I owe you a thank you."

The person waved their hand magnanimously, "You've already thanked me before."

But then Gen revealed that malicious smile again, "So you took me to see that bastard's secret lover, aren't you afraid that one day I'll use that lovely woman to threaten you?"

Jack chuckled and gestured for her to come upstairs with him. "Don't you see 'machines' as electronic gods, believing they are the hope for humanity's future?"
Although you're very good at acting and lying, I don't think you're lying about this, are you?

Gen's face, which could always perfectly make all kinds of expressions but rarely showed confusion, tilted its head and frowned this time, which was unusual. "Of course, but what are you trying to say?"

Jack smiled without answering, and led her into his room. He sat down at his desk, opened his laptop, and double-clicked a text document on the desktop.

Gen frowned and stood behind him, looking at what appeared to be the text of a script, but this time he didn't rush to ask any questions.

Jack typed a line with lightning speed, "Was it because of you that Harold Finch met Grace back then?"

As he removed his hands from the keyboard, the cursor blinked rapidly a few times, then automatically wrapped to a newline, and then the word "Yes" appeared automatically.

Root's eyes widened instantly, and he covered his mouth in disbelief.

In the blink of an eye, the line of text Jack had just typed and the automatically appearing reply disappeared.

Jack put his hands back on the keyboard. "So Finch even designed a dating matching feature for you?"

"No, that was just the early testing phase. The administrator's instruction at the time was to find 'special individuals' among the ordinary masses."

What is a 'special individual'? Like 'related numbers' and 'unrelated numbers'?

"No, the park administrators didn't clearly define what 'special individuals' were, so I marked a few individuals in the park whose behavior was quite different from that of ordinary people."

"So what was Grace doing at that time?"

"She was painting by the river."

(End of this chapter)