The following three days were quiet.
Mike followed Frank around, handling routine police calls: drunken brawls, filing reports for stolen bicycles, and mediating noise complaints between neighbors.
It was repetitive and trivial.
During their patrols, Frank continued to give Mike pointers.
For instance, after registering a theft report, Frank pointed toward a nearby alleyway.
“Don’t go in there at night.
It’s not just a hassle; it’s dangerous.
Especially if there are gang members inside you’ve arrested before.
Last I heard, the Buffalo Gang controlled that area.
Their boss is a guy named Jack, though I’m not sure if it’s still them…”
Mike made a special effort to remember such details.
It wasn’t just for safety; it could involve his system tasks.
On the afternoon of their last working day before the break, Frank used the excuse of going back to the precinct to handle some paperwork.
After clearing it with dispatch, he parked the car outside a café near the station.
“Let’s go in for a cup, rookie.
My thanks for you handling that drunk who threw up on himself this morning.”
Mike remembered the scene of stuffing that drunk into the patrol car and gave Frank a disgusted middle finger.
“You should thank me for having the stomach to strip his clothes off.
Seriously, don’t bring him up.”
Frank laughed and returned the gesture.
“I’d thank you even more if you’d stripped his pants off too.
I can still smell the sour stench in the car.”
They walked into the café.
Mike saw Sarah there, apparently slacking off as well.
“Patrol officers get to be lazy too?” she asked with a smile, walking over to him and whispering.
Frank smiled at Mike.
“You two chat.
I’ll get the coffee.”
Mike and Sarah found a table.
“Is administrative work that boring?
Can’t the precinct coffee machine satisfy you?” Mike asked with a grin.
“Boring as hell.” Sarah stirred her coffee.
“I’m out on orders to buy some food.
Some guys are working overtime tonight.”
“A homicide?”
“Yeah.”
Mike didn’t even bother asking for details.
It was either gang-related or an overdose.
If there were anything truly unusual, he and Frank would have known before they even returned to the precinct.
“What’s the status on that junkie thief from the other day?” Mike asked, pretending it was a casual thought.
Sarah put down her spoon.
“The one you caught, Jesse?
I finished filing his records.
He’s stolen a lot of stuff, but none of it was valuable.
He’s a career petty criminal; he’ll be released tomorrow.”
“Was it all from supermarkets?” Mike asked.
“No other stolen goods were found,” Sarah said.
“Are you interested in him?”
“No, I’m just…
sentimental about my first arrest,” Mike joked.
Sarah rolled her eyes playfully.
A moment later, Sarah left, and Mike walked over to Frank.
“Done talking?” Frank asked with a smirk.
“Got any insider info?”
“She’s buying dinner for the guys working overtime.
Said the job is boring.”
“Ah!
Poor bastards, babysitting a corpse.” Frank understood instantly.
“Glad it’s not us,” Mike said.
Frank shook his head.
“You’ll run into it sooner or later.”
Mike took a sip of his coffee.
“Hopefully later.
I still want some time to adjust.”
Frank suddenly perked up and raised his cup.
“We’re off tomorrow.
Have a good weekend!”
Mike raised his cup as well and smiled.
“Happy days off!” This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
On his day off, Mike dressed in ordinary jeans and a sweatshirt and headed to the neighborhood where Old Joseph lived.
The buildings here were old but relatively tidy, quite different from the truly chaotic zones.
Old Joseph had filed a report, and Mike found the old-fashioned apartment building using the address from the precinct records.
After he pressed the doorbell, a frail voice came through the intercom: “Who is it?”
“Mr.
Joseph?
I’m Officer Mike Lee from the NYPD,” Mike identified himself.
“I wanted to follow up on your report about the missing item and make a supplementary record.”
The door lock clicked open.
“Third floor.”
Old Joseph was a thin, white-haired man wearing a faded white shirt.
He ushered Mike into the living room.
The apartment was clean but sparsely furnished.
“Officer…
did you find my watch?” the old man asked, his hands rubbing together unconsciously.
“We’re following up on it, Mr.
Joseph,” Mike reassured him, showing his badge.
“The precinct recently arrested several repeat offenders active in the area.
I wanted you to take a look at some photos to see if any of them look suspicious.”
He pulled out his phone and brought up several photos.
These were the mugshots of suspects he had obtained through Sarah before his shift ended, including Jesse.
To avoid looking like he was targeting someone specifically, he had asked for several other photos as well.
The old man put on his reading glasses and leaned toward the screen.
His finger paused on the photo of Jesse.
In the photo, Jesse wasn’t wearing a green jacket.
“This one…
looks a bit familiar,” the old man said hesitantly.
“And this one next to him, I think I’ve seen him at the market too, but I’m not sure…
There were so many people that day, and the person who bumped into me was very fast…” He asked Mike to scroll back to Jesse’s photo and stared for a few seconds.
“I’m sorry, Officer, I can’t be certain it was him.
I only saw a back in a green jacket, and he was thin like this.”
Mike basically had his confirmation.
Old Joseph couldn’t identify him one hundred percent, but he recognized Jesse’s face, and the thin frame matched the description.
Given he was in the area at the time of the incident, he was the prime suspect.
“That’s alright.
Thank you for your cooperation.” Mike retracted his phone.
“Can you give me an accurate description of the watch again?
Any detail could help us narrow it down.”
“It’s silver-plated.
It was a gift from many years ago.
There’s a small dent here on the edge where I accidentally dropped it.” The old man gestured in the air.
“Inside the cover, there’s a photo taken on my fortieth anniversary with Mary.
She’s wearing a blue dress…” The old man’s voice trailed off.
“She passed away last year…”
Mike noted: Silver-plated, dented edge, photo inside the cover.
He left his phone number, promising to notify him as soon as there was news, then took his leave.
After leaving Old Joseph’s home, Mike walked through several streets.
The environment gradually became dirtier, and the air filled with various unpleasant smells.
He arrived across from the dilapidated apartment building where Jesse lived.
He stopped at an inconspicuous spot and watched the entrance.
It was morning.
Jesse had just been released and had no money; he would likely come back to get cash before heading out to buy drugs.
He waited for about forty minutes before Jesse’s figure appeared.
Jesse walked into the apartment building with unsteady steps.
His face was even more haggard than a few days ago, and he kept rubbing his nose.
He was clearly going through withdrawal.
Mike followed him, pulling his cap low and heading into the building.
The interior was dimly lit with a damp, moldy smell.
He went straight to the third floor.
The hallway was quiet.
Room 307.
Mike took a deep breath and knocked hard on the door.
After ten seconds, the door cracked open.
Mike immediately jammed his foot in to block the person from closing it.
“NYPD!
Move back!” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough.
Jesse froze, his sunken face filled with alarm.
He looked closely at Mike and his pupils constricted.
He recognized the cop who had arrested him a few days ago.
“Wha…
Mike showed the badge clipped to his waist and stepped forward, forcing Jesse back into the room.
“I’m here to ask you something.
About a pocket watch.”
Jesse’s expression relaxed slightly, and he immediately said, “Watch?
What watch?
I don’t know anything about a watch.”
To him, a few stolen items weren’t a big deal anymore.
“A silver-plated pocket watch.
You stole it from an old man at the market a few days ago.” Mike stared into his eyes.
“Don’t deny it.
Someone saw you.
Wearing a green jacket.”
“You’re lying!” Jesse countered instinctively.
“Either explain it now, or we go back to the precinct to talk.
Your choice.”
Jesse’s eyes flickered with struggle for a few seconds before he lapsed into silence.
Mike watched Jesse.
The man’s sallow face twitched occasionally, and fine sweat appeared on his forehead.
This guy wouldn’t hold out for long.
Mike scanned the room.
It was messy, but there was nothing of value, and he saw no sign of the watch.
“Where is it?” Mike asked directly.
“I told you, I don’t know anything about a watch!” Jesse leaned against the wall, shouting with feigned bravado.
“If you keep harassing me, I’ll file a complaint!
I’m just staying home, I haven’t broken the law!”
Mike sneered.
He stopped wasting words, stepped forward, grabbed Jesse’s collar with one hand, and pinned him against the wall.
“Listen, Jesse.
I have no interest in sending you back to jail, but that watch is important to the owner.
Hand it over, and this ends here.”
Jesse struggled, but it was useless against Mike’s strength.
“I…
I don’t have it!”
“No?” Mike smirked and patted the outside of Jesse’s pockets.
No hard objects.
He then shoved him away.
“You know, I don’t have the patience to waste time on you.
But I can go to the park and warn every idiot selling gear to stay away from you.
How many days do you think your ‘friends’ will wait before they’re brave enough to sell to you again?”
Mike stared at the unmoved Jesse and suddenly smiled.
“I’ll also have someone tell Jack, the boss of the Buffalo Gang, that during your days at the precinct, you turned into an NYPD informant!”
That hit Jesse’s weak spot.
His addiction wasn’t so severe that he couldn’t find a temporary substitute, but if he were labeled a police snitch and tried to buy drugs, he wouldn’t even need Boss Jack to move—the local street-level dealers would never let him go.
Moving to another neighborhood would yield the same result.
When a new face showed up in a different block, people always checked their background.
Jesse’s face went pale instantly.
“You can’t do that!”
“I just want the watch,” Mike said firmly.
Jesse glared at Mike, seemingly judging how much of the threat was a bluff.
After a long moment, he spoke.
“…It’s…
it’s under the mattress.
I haven’t had a chance to sell it yet.”
“Get it yourself!
I don’t want you filing some false complaint about me!”
Jesse wobbled over to the filthy single bed, pulled back the foul-smelling sheets, and reached into a gap in the mattress near the headboard.
He pulled out a small, tattered bundle and dumped it on the bed.
A few small-denomination bills fell out of the cloth, along with a silver-plated pocket watch.
Mike picked it up and examined it.
There was a small dent on the edge.
He opened the cover; inside was a yellowed photo of Old Joseph and an elderly woman in a blue dress, both smiling.
The details matched perfectly.
Mike gripped the watch and looked at the impatient Jesse.
“Remember, if you dare say a word, or if you go back to harass that old man, I guarantee your name will be on every gang’s hit list in the area.”
Jesse nodded frantically.
Mike turned and left.
His first side quest was about to be completed.
But Mike didn’t feel happy at all.
The authority of his badge didn’t carry nearly as much weight as the name of a neighborhood gang leader.