1960: My uncle is the FBI Director

Chapter 20 Mr. Bucks
“It’s not him,” Theodore shook his head.

"But……"

“They were very much in love.” Theodore explained in a low voice, “The killer was impotent, which was a major blow to his masculinity. As a result, the killer was insecure and desperately needed to gain confidence from the victims as a supplement to his masculinity.”

"The murderer wouldn't buy flowers for his wife after get off work and look so happy."

“If the murderer was married, he and his wife would be going through a major marital crisis, and it wouldn’t be like this,” he said, pointing to the house.

Bernie clicked his tongue, unwilling to give up.

Theodore shook his head and urged, "Let's go, let's go to the next one."

…………

The sky gradually darkened.

The lights twinkled throughout the community, reflecting the happy scenes of families gathering for dinner.

The commercial area was completely dark, with all the shops closed.

This presented Theodore and his team with new challenges in their investigation.

They moved very quickly, covering most of the southern district in half a day, checking more than 170 pharmacies and browsing nearly a thousand names.

However, they were still too slow.

One-fifth of the communities in the southern district have not yet been investigated, and the northern district has not even started. It was already past seven o'clock.

The bustling atmosphere of Rose Street is about to begin, the prostitutes are about to open for business, and the murderer is about to begin selecting targets and preparing for his operation.

They still came up empty-handed.

Bernie felt as if there was an alarm clock counting down above his head, and the approaching time made him a little irritable.

The pharmacy was about to close when they arrived. After showing their badges, the clerk grumbled angrily, reopened the door, and slowly flipped through the register.

"Hurry up!"

Bernie impatiently urged.

The shop assistant's lips moved slightly, he silently cursed a couple of times, pulled out a half-new registration book, and slammed it onto the table.

Bernie pointed at the clerk with his index finger and looked down to browse through the items.

Theodore also came over to take a look, thinking to himself that if this place didn't have it yet, he would have to come up with even more outrageous 'guessing' theories.

The 'guessing' theory is very simple.

Based on experience, crimes that begin with sex often have a significant proportion influenced by Oedipus complex and religion. Theodore speculated that the killer's preference for blondes was because his mother was blonde.

Thinking this, Theodore suddenly reached out and stopped Bernie from turning the page.

Buck?

Buck means stag and is a symbol of male hormones and fertility in hunting culture.

Bernie looked at Theodore.

Theodore's lips moved slightly as he asked the clerk who was peering in their direction, "When did you buy this stag?"

The shop assistant looked away, her tone indifferent, "Before you came..."

How long ago?

The clerk was a little impatient, but out of respect for the police badge, he honestly replied, "About ten minutes. I had just started cleaning when he arrived."

While he was asking the questions, Bernie had already turned to the target time page and excitedly pointed it out to Theodore.

5月20日，5月26日，5月27日，以及今天。

Bernie flipped through the pages and discovered that this Buck was definitely a regular here, and a big fan of the Trojan brand, making frequent purchases.

“Him, do you remember him?” Bernie asked the clerk, pointing to Buck’s name. “Tell me what he looked like.”

The shop assistant was somewhat reluctant, but all her emotions vanished after Bernie glared at her.

The shop assistant said a lot, and the more they listened, the more it sounded like the murderer. The two immediately decided to go and check it out.

Unable to request backup due to the dispute instigated by Cahill, the two became extra cautious. They drove to Mr. Bucks' house, left the keys in the ignition, and then pulled out their guns to begin checking.

After confirming their identities, the two officers hung their badges in a prominent position and went to knock on the door, one in front of the other. A girl of about ten years old opened the door, peered curiously at the two men, her gaze lingering briefly on the badges, before running into the house, calling out as she went.
"Dad! The police are here! Dad! The police are here! Dad..."

Bernie's hand, which was behind his back and touching his gun holster, was instinctively moved away when he saw the little girl.

When Bernie saw Mr. Bucks come over and ask them what was wrong, he opened his mouth but didn't know what to say.

Mr. Buck had a child on each side, both around ten years old. Several little heads peeked out from both sides, looking at them curiously. There was even a little guy sitting in a toy car, sucking on a pacifier and babbling at them.

A rough count shows that Mr. Bucks has nine children.

"Dad, the police are here!"

"Dad, it's a policeman!"

"Dad, why aren't you a policeman?"

"Daddy, I want that one too!"

"Gun! Gun!"

Do you have a gun? Can I see it?

Are you here to catch bad guys?

"Mom said Dad is a bad person, let's get him arrested."

"No, Mom says you're the bad guy. Take my brother away! They're all bad guys."

"You're lying! Waaaaah~ Mommy~"

The children's voices chattered and quickly became a noisy mess, with a barrage of strange and unusual questions overwhelming the three adults.

They asked and answered their own questions, and then, without anyone intervening, a five- or six-year-old boy was bullied and cried.

Bernie watched with a forced smile as Mr. Buck separated the quarreling children and comforted the wailing little boy.

“We checked the pharmacy you frequent. Why did you buy Trojan umbrellas on May 20th, May 26th, May 27th, and today?”

The little boy, who had just been crying, still had tears on his eyelashes. He nestled in Mr. Deer's arms, sobbing softly, and asked, "Daddy, are you sick?"

A fleeting look of embarrassment crossed Mr. Buck's face. He said gently, "Dad isn't sick. Dad went to buy medicine for Mom. Okay, go find Mom. Dad has to entertain the guests."

The group of children scattered in a flurry of chatter.

Bernie and Theodore exchanged bewildered glances, and suddenly understood why Mr. Buck was called a buck.

“Buck, why those days?” Theodore grabbed Bernie, who was turning to leave, and asked.

Mr. Bucks looked a little embarrassed, scratched his head, and invited them inside.

Theodore shook his head in refusal; they didn't have time to sit down and talk things over.

Mr. Bucks glanced back and said, "Because I just happened to be home these past few days."

“My wife’s health isn’t very good.” He pointed upstairs, where the faint sounds of children chattering could be heard. “She’s been having children ever since we got married.”

"I dare not let her have any more children..."

"Why are you only home these few days?" Theodore interrupted his reflection.

Mr. Bucks scratched his head. "I'm the offensive coach for a football team. Last year, our team almost won the championship, and the school board decided to allocate some funds to prepare for this year's title challenge. The semester is almost over, and I've been busy scouting players at various schools."

Theodore pointed inside the room. "Could I see that photo?"

Mr. Bucks glanced back, then went to retrieve the photo.

It was a photograph displayed in the living room, carefully framed. The photo showed many people; the first three rows were rugby players in their gear, and the last two rows were the coaching staff, all giving the camera a thumbs-up and beaming.

Mr. Bucks proudly introduced, "This is a photo from ten years ago when we won our first championship. I had just joined the offensive team as a coach back then."

Texas has a thriving football culture, with teams at all levels, and schools that place great importance on football performance and are willing to invest in training. Moreover, the atmosphere here is fantastic, with many fans leaving early or even skipping work to watch the game on game days.

On important match days, many people will even take leave to travel with the team.

Rugby is considered a 'male' sport and is especially popular in oil cities like Felton, where the city government even has a dedicated department to organize rugby matches at all levels.

Theodore handed the picture frame back to Mr. Bucks. "Buck, you need to come back to the police station with us."

(End of this chapter)