You should know, clients like Eddie Ross who enjoy beating up the women they pay for and have particular tastes aren't few and far between—these individuals often have mental or psychological issues, so their potential to commit crimes is significant.

"The masked black suspect who targeted Eddie Ross could likely target other clients with special preferences,"

Little Black shrugged, "But the key issue is that we don't know, and now that Novina Jones is dead, she can't tell us either."

Luke said, "But Petrov knows, and he might have told the masked black suspect as well.

All we need to do is pry information from Petrov's mouth, then we can trace the masked black suspect and set a trap in advance."

Deputy Team Leader thought for a moment, "That idea isn't bad, but prying Petrov's mouth open won't be easy."

"You're right, so leave that to me.

Deputy Team Leader, do you have another lead to investigate?"

Deputy Team Leader guessed, "You want me to start from the people closely associated with Novina Jones."

"Exactly, if the masked black suspect went to the extent of avenging Novina Jones, it indicates their relationship was extraordinary, either lovers or friends, and there must have been close interactions between them."

"Leave it to me," Deputy Team Leader replied, though this clue was also tough to track. Novina Jones didn't even have relatives in Los Angeles, nor did she have a formal job; he could only investigate around her residential address."

...

Drug Enforcement Department.

The Drug Enforcement Department was not far from the Robbery and Murder Department, just upstairs or downstairs, and had a larger office and more complex personnel compared to the Robbery and Murder Department.

"Knock, knock."

Luke symbolically knocked on the office door, "Deputy David, is Captain Jones in?"

David rose, "Yes, would you like me to let you in?"

"That would be perfect."

Then, they knocked and entered Jones's office.

"Hey, Captain Luke, a rare visitor. Is this your first time in my office?" Jones cheerily invited Luke to sit down.

"Captain Jones, I'm here to ask for your help."

"I heard from David. I've been in touch with the boss of the Furry Bear Gang. That bastard isn't yielding; he keeps distancing himself from anything related to Petrov."

Luke said, "Do you have a way to bypass the Furry Bear Gang and get Petrov to cooperate with the police investigation?"

"It's nearly impossible. As far as I know, the family members of these gang members are all in Eastern Europe. If Petrov dares betray the gang, his family...

So even if he were sentenced to death, he wouldn't dare betray the gang."

"So the problem still lies with the Furry Bear Gang."

"Right, recently LAPD hasn't had many large-scale operations, and many gangs have forgotten that LAPD is the boss of this city, which is not good, especially those arrogant Furry Bears."

"I want to get Petrov's confession; do you have any suggestions?"

"My suggestion is that our two departments launch a joint operation and sweep the Furry Bear Gang, to remind them who runs Los Angeles.

Once we hurt them enough to disrupt their operations, they will naturally compromise."

Luke frowned, "Isn't that a bit excessive?"

Jones shrugged, "It depends on how you see it.

Lately, I've been wanting to intimidate the gangs. These guys only remember the beatings they've gotten and forget to respect power. Every once in a while, you have to take out a disobedient one and beat some sense into them, otherwise, they dare to wreak havoc on your territory.

But there's no rush with this.

If you're willing, our two departments can cooperate.

If not, I'm willing to wait longer."

Luke smiled; he quite liked Jones's character, "OK, looking forward to a fruitful collaboration."

...

Nine o'clock in the evening.

Downtown Los Angeles.

Stewart Street, this district, bustling during the day, but deserted at night, occasionally, a car would drive by.

Whether it's a respectable car, who knows?

A tall woman with blonde hair and pale skin stood by the roadside, dressed revealingly and heavily makeup, making it hard to determine her exact age.

The woman's blue eyes scanned the passing cars, occasionally flashing a flirtatious wink.

A gray BMW approached and stopped nearby.

The driver's door opened, and a black man stepped out, "Hey, beautiful, need a ride?"

The white woman asked seductively, "Are you a good driver?"

"Of course, they call me California Little Cannon."

"Hehe, two hundred US dollars for an hour."

"Are you a prostitute?"

"Do we have to use that term? Isn't it better to just make a friend, spend some wonderful time together, and then help that friend with some travel expenses?"

The black man laughed, his smile somewhat lecherous, "OK, get in, I'll take you to a nice place."

The white woman said, "I don't go to clients' homes; I usually go to hotels."

"How about in the car?"

"That'll cost extra."

The black man eyed the woman up and down, "No problem, hop in."

The black man returned to the driver's seat and unlocked the door.

The white woman opened the door and sat in the passenger seat, but she abruptly noticed someone else in the back of the car, a young white man.

The white woman was surprised and pointed to the back seat, "Who's he?"

The black man chuckled, "He's my friend, don't mind him."

"Hold on, let's make it clear, is he joining us too?"

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