Chapter 97: The Truth from the Bandit's Mouth and New Clues

"Pfft—"

Seeing August’s face freeze up instantly, Lacey beside him couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Roan was different; after all, he had received specialized training—no matter how funny something was, he would never... laugh out loud.

Standing to the side, Roan’s lips curled into a sunny smile, but not a sound escaped him.

“You…”

The moment August turned his gaze toward him and just opened his mouth, Roan immediately wiped the smile off his face, nodded seriously, and said, “Understood, sir. I get it. I’ll go interrogate Brandon right away.”

Watching the upright Roan lead Lacey—who was still covering her mouth—toward the interrogation room, August opened his mouth, hesitated, then shot William a glare, huffed coldly, and returned to the team leader’s office.

William remained in place, utterly bewildered.

—

Inside the interrogation room.

Brandon, handcuffed to the chair, looked ashen and kept rubbing his fingers anxiously.

“Looks like you’ve sobered up.”

Seated across from him, Roan nodded in satisfaction. After confirming that Lacey was ready with her notebook, he cleared his throat and said, “Brandon, you said earlier that you know who committed the robberies in the previous cases. You can tell us now.”

After apprehending Brandon and Dylan, Roan and Lacey had found both cash and handguns at Dylan’s place, and when they searched Brandon’s house, they discovered some dollars hidden in a safe, along with two cellphones identical to those used by the robbers.

Furthermore, during the fifth and sixth incidents, neither Brandon nor Dylan could provide an alibi. These pieces of evidence were more than enough for the FBI to charge them.

What was even more bizarre was that the IRS, having somehow caught wind of the matter, popped up and requested that the FBI hand the two men over.

The reason was simple: the pair had robbed banks and failed to pay taxes on their loot.

Fortunately, Verinise was handling matters up front; otherwise, Roan couldn’t imagine just how weird things might get.

“OK.”

Brandon took a deep breath and spoke in a low voice:

“I’ll start by explaining how these two cases went down.”

The bank’s account manager, Namit, had a failed marriage before marrying Brandon’s sister. Because of that marriage, Namit had to pay alimony and child support to his ex-wife every month—a constant headache.

After the third robbery, Namit realized that, following the robbers’ methods, the chance of pulling off a bank heist was extremely high.

After some deliberation, Namit brought the video to Brandon.

At the time, Brandon was unemployed and badly in need of money. He hesitated for a few hours after watching the video, but finally agreed.

However, Namit had a big belly and looked nothing like the two robbers, so Brandon thought of his recently paroled, equally cash-strapped buddy—Dylan.

When Dylan heard about it, he agreed even more decisively; after seeing the video in the morning, he went out that very afternoon to buy black clothes and other props.

“Hold on, Brandon.”

Hearing that Namit was the real mastermind behind the last two cases, Roan raised an eyebrow.

What a good brother-in-law.

But he didn’t dwell on the topic; they’d be interrogating Namit soon enough.

The reason he interrupted Brandon was because the story was drifting off track. Roan tapped his pen on the table and said sternly, “Right now, I want to know one thing: who were the robbers in the first four cases, OK?”

“OK.”

Brandon cursed inwardly but showed nothing on his face. He continued, “As you know, the most important thing in robbing a bank is casing the place beforehand.”

According to Brandon, Dylan was in charge of scoping out the banks.

If they went themselves, the police would have a high chance of identifying them later through surveillance footage.

So, after some thought, Dylan decided to approach several prostitutes he knew.

His plan was to pay these women to deposit money at the banks, note the layout and camera locations, and then report back to him.

But, unexpectedly, the women he approached not only refused but told their madam—Madam Helen—about the plan.

“Madam Helen is one of the madams in our neighborhood, with gang affiliations,” Brandon said, licking his chapped lips before continuing, “After hearing about it, Madam Helen actually came to see Dylan that very night.

We were terrified, thinking she was going to do something to us.

But after a brief chat, we realized Madam Helen was just gathering information.”

Roan frowned. “What kind of information?”

“About the first four robberies, of course,” Brandon shrugged. “She said the robbers in those cases probably also used prostitutes to scope out the banks. The difference is, they didn’t use her girls, but those from another pimp. Before the fourth robbery, someone contacted those girls, but then they all disappeared—along with their pimp.

Madam Helen only learned of this after she took over most of that pimp’s girls some time after the incident.

That night, she came to check if we were the robbers from the first four cases and also to warn us not to target banks in their gang’s territory.”

After all, gangs need a place to keep their money and pay taxes too.

Roan’s eyes narrowed. “So you’re saying Madam Helen might know who pulled off the first four robberies?”

“Exactly.” Brandon nodded. “She took over a lot of that pimp’s girls, and they probably saw those robbers.”

Hearing this, Roan rubbed his temples, frowned in thought for a few seconds, then asked, “So how did you get the details on those two banks’ layouts?”

“That was all Namit, of course,” Brandon leaned back. “He’s the account manager, with way more connections than Dylan or me. After we told him what we needed, he got us floor plans of the bank lobby the very next day.”

“OK.”

After a few more brief questions to confirm that Brandon had no other leads, Roan and Lacey left the interrogation room without further ado.

As they closed the door, Lacey glanced at her notes, smiled, and tilted her head. “Roan, do you believe Brandon’s story?”

“Except for the information about Madam Helen, I don’t buy any of it.” Roan glanced back at the interrogation room with disdain. “According to Brandon, in both cases he was just following orders, nothing more than a tool. That sort of talk… heh.”

After hearing Brandon out, Roan had only one impression: this guy was the real mastermind behind the robberies.

After all, back in college, his major was acting.

Lacey smiled. “Exactly my thoughts. Mona’s already back—should we go interrogate Namit?”

Roan nodded, about to reply, when his phone suddenly rang in his pocket.

He answered, and a familiar female voice came over the line: “Roan, come to my office.”

Hearing Verinise on the other end, Roan’s eyebrows shot up.

Finished negotiating with the IRS already?

“Sorry, Lacey.”

He hung up and turned to Lacey. “The boss needs me. I’ll leave Namit’s interrogation to you and Mona.”

“No problem.” Lacey waved him off nonchalantly, urging him to go and signaling that she’d inform August as well.

With a grateful smile, Roan left the Fifth Investigation Unit’s office area and headed straight for Verinise’s office.

(End of chapter)