1960: My uncle is the FBI Director

Chapter 66 Brother Qiang, it's time to take your medicine (Please continue reading)
Paul Anderson confessed quickly.

His boss is called Johnson.

I don't know his full name.

Age unknown.

He was thin and had skin ulcers.

They have booked room 208 of the Blue Parrot Motel on a long-term basis.

Paul Anderson explains how their 'business' operates.

Johnson would have people stand guard outside the bank, treating those who failed to get loans as his clients.

In addition to valuing the collateral, banks also assess the borrower's repayment ability for loans. If either of these criteria is not met, the loan cannot be granted.

Johnson doesn't need to go through all that trouble; he provides interest-free loans.

It doesn't matter if the customer can't pay; he can use violent debt collection methods, make the customer work for him, or even offer sexual favors as repayment.

In fact, Johnson prefers his customers not to repay their loans rather than making them repay them.

Cynthia is a typical example.

David Moore has been paralyzed for over a decade. They sold everything they could in their home, leaving only that property.

That neighborhood is considered a mid-to-high-end community in the West End, with property values ​​exceeding eight thousand. That's two years' salary for Bernie.

Recently, as Bernie's fame has soared, the Moore family's real estate has continued to appreciate in value.

Normally, if things had gone according to plan, the Moore family would have eventually been forced to sell their property as collateral because they couldn't repay their loans.

David Moore then died suddenly.

In order to prevent the property from slipping away, Johnson ordered two of his men to kidnap Donald Moore and force Cynthia to transfer the property directly.

They've done this many times before, so they're very familiar with it.

Who would have thought that a little Sullivan would suddenly appear out of nowhere...

…………

Paul Anderson helped the police prove Johnson's existence, which also confirmed Theodore's profile of Johnson.

The interrogation of him was successful.

But it was also a failure.

Police still don't know who Johnson is.

Boxes and boxes of documents were still being moved into the main office, and the detectives' hands were practically blurring as they flipped through the files.

No records have been found regarding Johnson.

Johnson seems to have become a ghost; the only proof of his existence is in room 208.

In the interrogation room.

Theodore's full attention was focused on room 208.

He kept asking questions around the room and ran back and forth between the three interrogation rooms like a madman.

The superiors who were observing the interrogation looked at each other, hesitating whether to call a halt.

The senior superintendent has summoned detectives from the Violent Crimes Unit to his side for a private briefing.

While they were discussing it, Theodore came out of the interrogation room again.

This time, he didn't go into any interrogation room, but instead told Bernie to run outside.

"To the Blue Parrot Motel! Quickly!"

Bernie trusted him completely and without hesitation, grabbed the car keys and rushed out.

Time was of the essence, and Theodore spoke rapidly, “Please have all the police cars outside the Blue Parrot Motel removed immediately.”

"why……"

"He's going back!" Theodore glanced at the time and blurted out, "Johnson doesn't have his medication; he left it in room 208 of the Blue Parrot Motel."

"He will definitely go back to get the medicine!" "Johnson has a strong dependence on amphetamines."

Even counting from the moment he took the medication before taking Sullivan away, five hours had passed since his last dose.

This is precisely the time when long-term users experience withdrawal symptoms.

The senior police superintendent questioned, "He could have had his subordinates buy it for him, or gone directly to a pharmacy to buy it."

Although amphetamines are prescription drugs, their regulation is not strict.

“No, he wouldn’t,” Theodore denied. “After recognizing Carl Sullivan, he immediately decided to abandon two of his men and use them to delay our investigation.”

He doesn't trust his subordinates. He only trusts himself.

He couldn't be sure if his men would betray him.

“He’s worried about being recognized, so he’d never choose to buy it himself.”

Director Widek waved his hand, and Kahol immediately went out to order the deployment of surveillance around the Blue Parrot Motel.

Theodore wanted to go to the scene with Bernie, but was stopped by the senior police inspector.

After a moment's hesitation, Senator Santos surprisingly ran out after them.

Chief Widke delegated command to Deputy Inspector Burton, who had been virtually invisible all night, and then turned to Theodore with a new question.
Why did he go back to the Blue Parrot Motel?

Theodore replied without hesitation, "Johnson has booked room 208 for long-term use."

“They exchanged hostages, intimidated clients, and lent money at exorbitant interest rates in room 208… That room was the criminal gang’s hideout.”

"Room 208 is a safe house in Johnson's mind; he feels completely safe doing anything there."

"Under the combined effects of withdrawal symptoms and wishful thinking, returning to room 208 was like going home for him."

After a pause, Theodore added, "And we've never been strict with site control after we've already inspected the sites."

The group exchanged glances, finding Theodore's analysis somewhat absurd and far-fetched.

But considering the cases he had solved in the past and the miraculous things he had just done right under their noses, no one questioned him for a while.

After a brief silence, a commotion arose from the main office. Soon, a document was delivered.

Opening the file, I found a criminal record.

Johnson Lawson, a 43-year-old white man, is the owner of the Blue Parrot Motel and has a long criminal record, including extortion, assault, endangering public safety, and illegal possession of contraband.

The judge, who had been idle, immediately opened the document bag and signed a series of search warrants.

Teams of detectives rushed toward Johnson's possible hiding place.

Theodore glanced at the police cars driving away outside the window but said nothing.

…………

Johnson gave Sullivan half a bottle of whiskey, and the little guy finally calmed down.

After driving for a while, he yawned. Withdrawal symptoms began to appear.

Johnson was very familiar with this feeling. He frantically searched for a long time before remembering that he had left the medicine in room 208.

He glanced at Sullivan in the passenger seat, his hands trembling as he restarted the car.

After driving a short distance, he almost stopped in front of a pharmacy, but a night runner coming from the opposite direction startled him away.

After driving for a while longer, the surrounding houses began to thin out, and as they were about to leave the city, his withdrawal symptoms began to intensify.

His hands were trembling violently, and he could barely hold the steering wheel.

He felt waves of palpitations, as if his heart was about to jump out of his chest.

The unbearable fatigue continued to erode his will.

He considered contacting his men to buy him a bottle and send it over, but then he thought of the two men he had abandoned and feared they might betray him.

He forced himself to continue forward.

Shortly after passing the sign that read "Now Leaving Fairton—Safe Travels!", he passed another new sign:
Welcome to Fairton—The Heart of Texas Oil Country!

(End of this chapter)