Chapter 162 No One's Life Is More Important Than Your Own
Interrogation Room
Alexander crossed his arms and shot a sharp look at Knox. "You know my connection to William, right?"
Knox, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, squinted at Alexander but stayed silent.
"Let me spell it out for you," Alexander said bluntly. "I'm on this case because Zephyr and William are tight. So, I have to handle it. This isn't just about crime; there are hidden agendas. If you take the fall, you're just a patsy."
"Got any solid proof? Two bodies are enough to nail me?" Knox shot back, his neck stiffening. "Did you see me bury them? Catch me in the act?"
"If no one saw you bury them, how'd we dig them up?" Alexander replied with a cold smile.
Knox was taken aback.
"You didn't do this alone. You might keep quiet, but can you guarantee others will too?" Alexander stepped closer, yanked a strand of Knox's hair, and said, "Forget the autopsy or DNA results. If I plant this hair on the victim's clothes and match it to your DNA, think you'll dodge the death penalty?"
"Are you framing me?" Knox sneered. "Think my crew will just watch?"
"Do I need to frame you?" Alexander tossed the hair aside and leaned in. "We found cigarette butts near the tire tracks and frozen saliva in the burial pit. Think cheap gloves make you untouchable?"
Knox was stunned again.
"If you admit to taking the fall, we skip the interrogation. Straight to forensics. If you left no trace, no witnesses needed; you're free. Deal?" Alexander raised an eyebrow.
Knox clenched his fists, hesitating.
"Did you forget the half-empty bottle in the pit?" Alexander pressed.
Knox was stunned once more.
"Need me to tell you whose prints are on it?" Alexander poked Knox's chest. "Even if you stay silent, I can still nail him. Got it?"
Knox swallowed hard.
"We all got families. Why rot in prison for that jerk? Worth it?" Alexander patted the iron chair. "Cooperate, and I'll make you a state's witness. No serious charges. But go against me, and I can tweak the case details."
"Tweak... what?"
"The case was four months ago. Time of death is fuzzy," Alexander grinned. "I could say the female victim was dead before being dumped or killed again in the car."
Knox clenched his fists. "You're... You're bluffing."
"Think I can't get you the death penalty?" Alexander's eyes burned with fury. "Look, I'm not here for justice. I want to take down the other side. If you don't get that, you're just a scapegoat."
Interrogation room.
Knox, drenched in sweat, looked at Alexander, his face a mix of anxiety and desperation.
"Think it over. I'm hitting the sack," Alexander said nonchalantly, ruffling Knox's hair. "And don't count on anyone outside to bail you out or send you info. This case came straight from a top cop. Zephyr's connections might not cut it."
With that, Alexander turned and walked out.
Knox lowered his head, rubbing his face with his cuffed hands, the clinking of metal echoing in the room.
Office area, several minutes later.
John wiped grease from his mouth and asked, "How's it going? Any progress?"
"No need to keep grilling him," Alexander replied softly. "I doubt he'll last till morning. Knox isn't Zephyr's blood. They're close, but I don't think he'll hold up under the pressure."
"If he cracks, we've got all we need to nail Zephyr," John said, crossing his legs.
"Did you find the car keys in Knox's pocket?" Alexander asked.
"Yeah," John nodded. "Sent someone to match the tire tracks and got tech checking the car."
"Alright, let's call it a night. Everyone rest up, we'll pick this up tomorrow," Alexander said, stretching and clapping his hands. "Dismissed!"
"Okay, I'll tell the night shift to keep an eye on Knox and not let him sleep."
"Right." Alexander nodded.
The next morning, 7:30 AM.
Four officers put a black hood over Knox's head and led him out the back door, heading to forensics.
Before getting in the car, Knox, feeling weak and guilty, collapsed in the snow and shouted, "I... I don't want to go there..."
"You have no choice."
"I... I won't do forensics. Tell Alexander, I'll talk..." Knox, having stayed up all night, was mentally broken.
Four hours later.
Alexander, holding Knox's confession, turned to John and said, "We can move now, but don't bring him back. Once he's detained, send him straight to forensics and get a match on the fingerprints. If the prints on the bottle match his, that's enough to convict."
"Got it." John nodded.
A residence in the city.
Joe, wrapped in a towel after a shower, walked to the living room and asked, "How many days?"
"Three days," the burly man watching a streaming show replied casually.
"Three days and Duke hasn't gotten back to us," Joe said, lighting a cigarette. "Is he afraid of us?"
"What should we do?" asked a bald man at the bedroom door, holding a novel.
"Let's find him," Joe said, taking a drag from his cigarette.
"Are you sure? Move now?" the burly man on the couch asked.
"I've seen enough of the Riverside District situation," Joe said, standing up. "No need to tolerate him anymore. Let's act."
"Alright."
The burly man sat up, pulling a bag from under the coffee table. "I'll go myself."
Maple Street.
Zephyr, wearing a long coat with his red hair blowing in the wind, held a phone and said, "William, are you at the Neon Club? Call me when you get back. I'll play some cards, and we can meet up."
At the Intersection.
Two police cars slowly came to a stop. Alexander cocked his gun and gave a low command, "Quick, quick."
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