1960: My uncle is the FBI Director

Chapter 40: Textbook-like Exemplary Criminals
The two men leaned against each other, drew their sidearms, and locked the safety, remaining silent.

Bernie suddenly kicked open the iron gate and ran quickly onto the rooftop. Theodore followed closely behind.

The rooftop here is very spacious, with only a small brick and wood house in the northwest corner.

The two men crept closer, with Bernie providing cover from behind, while Theodore kicked open the wooden door.

There was no one inside.

The room reeked of a faint, almost imperceptible stench of feces and urine.

The entire room was covered with police station posters, police regulations, rules, rewards and punishments, and so on.

Besides that, what shocked them the most was the room full of police equipment.

From decommissioned to still-serving officers, all kinds of police badges, sidearms, and medals are neatly arranged on handmade shelves.

This place is like a police station history museum.

"This is definitely the mark of a die-hard fan."

Theodore was somewhat excited, even thrilled.

He stopped Bernie, took out his gloves and shoe covers, put them on, and eagerly went inside.

The house wasn't big, and the shelving further compressed the space; once the two of them were inside, even turning around felt difficult.

Even Bernie couldn't help but exclaim in admiration upon seeing these old police equipment up close.

After careful examination, Theodore picked up a police badge with rust marks.

"Folded from paper,"

He took the badge apart and showed it to Bernie.

Bernie blinked, and the shock he had just felt immediately dissipated.

"Is FD-1915-013 a police badge number?" Theodore suddenly asked, holding up a police badge.

Bernie examined it for a long time before putting it in a paper bag and shaking his head, saying, "I don't know, I'm still four years away from being born."

Theodore continued to rummage through the shelves, saying, "This should be his grandfather's badge number."

The police badge number format, consisting of FD-year of employment-employment number, was replaced by FD-department code-four-digit random number after the 1940s.

Theodore and his team are now using FD-department code-four-digit random siren numbers.

Aside from the serial numbers, the materials and constituent elements of the police badges are also different. However, since they are all made of paper, the difference in materials cannot be felt.

Theodore fiddled around for a while and found that no matter what the serial number was, they were all FD-1915-013.

He finally handed two cups to Bernie, who put them in a paper bag and left the room with Theodore.

Bernie remembered what Theodore had said in the car and grinned.

He planned to lie in wait here and catch Carlos the moment he got home.

Theodore disagreed with his idea and whispered, "Let's go check out Sam's house."

Even now, his body was still trembling slightly with excitement, and even his voice was trembling.

The moment I stepped into the small house, a familiar feeling washed over me—

That little house seemed to suddenly activate his muscle memory.

The classic, textbook-like crime patterns resonated with him.

Bernie quickly opened Sam's door.

The room was furnished in a typical bachelor's style; it was fairly clean overall, but the furnishings were a bit messy.

Theodore donned his protective gear, went inside, and checked the bathroom first.

The mirror was intact, personal items such as razors were neatly arranged, and there were some commonly used medicines in the cabinet.

Theodore then checked the closet and found that Sam's uniform was indeed missing, but his other everyday clothes were still there.

A family photo was placed on the bedside table and had not been taken away.

He checked the door lock one last time and confirmed that there were no signs of forced entry.

After the two left the apartment, Bernie went to the stall owner to inquire about Carlos, but the stall owner was still bothered by his previous rudeness in ending the conversation and had no intention of talking to him.

Bernie glared, about to reveal his true form, but the stall owner mumbled something incoherently, then shut his mouth and remained silent. Bernie choked, his true form forced back into place.

Theodore asked him what the stall owner had said. Bernie's tone was somewhat complicated. "He said we're the same people we were twenty or forty years ago."

Theodore shook his head and said to the stall owner, "Sam has gone missing. We're here to investigate."

“He has been missing for two days, and his chances of survival were already slim. You can stall for time as much as you want.”

“We are just his colleagues and friends. Since you don’t care, we can investigate slowly.”

The stall owner seemed hesitant at first, but his gaze hardened immediately when he saw their police badges.

He lowered his head and began fiddling with the filling, which he couldn't identify as some kind of meat.

Theodore knew there was no hope, so he nodded, said "Very good," and then told Bernie to leave.

The stall owner didn't say a word until the car drove away from the community. He stood in front of his stall, watching the car with a look of wariness and hostility in his eyes.

Sam's middle-aged neighbor peeked out of his apartment, glanced in the direction the car had gone, chatted with the stall owner for a few words, and finally asked the stall owner for his opinion with concern.

The stall owner made a series of hateful remarks, then grinned and said, "How could that be!"

The middle-aged man returned to the house, still looking worried.

He wanted Sam's influence, not to get rid of Sam.

He was well aware of how much convenience Sam's police identity could bring, and in his plan, Sam would become his right-hand man.

And what's more, there's Sam's damn brother...

…………

Bernie found a local patrolman and asked him to keep an eye on the apartment building, especially Carlos.

Back in the car, he asked, "Are you sure it was Carlos Mendoza who kidnapped Sam?"

Theodore nodded.

"why?"

Theodore thought for a moment and then asked him a question:
Have you ever heard of the Oedipus complex and the patricide complex?

Bernie looked puzzled. "What the heck?"

Theodore tried to explain that "some people worship authority to an extreme degree, and they will choose to kill authority as a way to grow."

Bernie thought for a long time, then shook his head and said, "I don't understand, it sounds like a mental illness."

Theodore gave him an approving thumbs-up.

"Because of his childhood experiences, Carlos believed that becoming a police officer was his mission, a career he had to accomplish."

“But being eliminated repeatedly made him feel frustrated. He didn’t want to admit that he was a loser, especially in front of his grandfather and Sam, whom he idolized.”

"Therefore, he needs to improve himself."

Bernie: "So he chose to kidnap Sam and kill him?"

Theodore nodded. Bernie shook his head. "I don't understand."

Theodore said, "I think he has 'improved himself'."

Seeing Bernie looking at him with a puzzled expression, Theodore asked, "You said he lives with his grandfather, where is his grandfather?"

Bernie's eyes widened.

As a homicide detective, he had seen family members kill each other before, but this was the first time he had ever seen them kill each other for this reason.

Theodore said softly, "He will soon fall into identity confusion."

"He took Sam's clothes and started to think he was Sam."

He looked at Bernie and asked, "What are imposters most afraid of?"

Bernie opened his mouth, his voice dry, "Real person."

Theodore nodded. "So, to make sure he's Sam, he'll soon be tempted to kill Sam."

(End of this chapter)