282: Chapter 289: Forcing a Confession 282: Chapter 289: Forcing a Confession Chief W smiled bitterly and said, “Little Lin, your boyfriend has gotten himself into quite the trouble.”
Joan revealed that Jas Brown was her boyfriend, and she naturally took on that role, especially since they had been intimate.
It only made sense to say Jas was her boyfriend.
Anxious, she said, “Director W, what kind of trouble has he caused?”
“I don’t know what he did to upset our Deputy County Chief Smith, but Deputy County Chief Smith personally ordered Jas Brown’s arrest today.”
Joan’s eyes widened with anger, “Upset him, so you arrest him?
May I ask what cri has Jas committed?”
Chief W felt quite embarrassed when Joan blad him, and said, “Little Lin, you haven’t been a police officer for long and there are things you might not understand.
Deputy County Chief Smith has a lot of clout; he’s backed by people at the provincial level.
Even the mayor has to give him so leeway.
If he says do sothing, we at the branch can’t dither.”
“So, just because he has a strong background, he can arrest anyone at will?
Are we, the police, serving the leaders or the people?”
Chief W’s face turned red with Joan’s accusation, and he hurriedly responded, “Little Lin, this isn’t sothing I handled personally.
You don’t have to direct your anger at .”
Chief W was actually a decent cop; had it been soone else, they might have lost their temper with Joan’s accusations.
Joan took a deep breath and apologized, “I’m sorry, Chief W, I’m not targeting you, but arresting soone just like that, it’s just too…” Joan couldn’t even find an adjective to describe how absurd the situation was.
Chief W sighed, “Arguing with here is useless, Little Lin.
You’re being promoted by T District Inspector.
The director there thinks highly of you, so you should go talk to him.
Only he can stop this.
No one in our branch can do anything about it at this mont, and the sooner the better.
Otherwise, I’m afraid your boyfriend is going to suffer.”
Joan’s eyes widened, “Suffer?
Are they going to torture for a confession?”
“That…
I think Mayor Johnson himself wants to take revenge on your boyfriend, so yes, it’s quite possible.”
Joan, livid, stord out of the office and dashed downstairs, bumping into several people.
Had she not been in uniform, the officers she bumped into would probably have cursed her.
On one side of the first floor, there were several interrogation rooms.
Joan charged straight there.
Amanda and Sunny Nguyen saw Joan rushing over like a whirlwind.
They wanted to ask her what was going on, but Joan sped by in a flash, and although they wanted to follow her, policen stopped them.
After Jas was brought in, he was imdiately handcuffed to a radiator.
The policen then left the room.
Jas casually fidgeted with the handcuffs and slipped his hands out, then lit a cigarette and started smoking comfortably.
He wasn’t worried about being here.
If it weren’t for the significant impact, he wouldn’t have let the police arrest him at all.
Besides, being brought in was part of a plan to fra Christopher Taylor, which would make dealing with him a lot more forceful.
Jas hadn’t finished his cigarette when two policen walked in.
Both were in their thirties, the sa ones who arrested Jas earlier, nad Jas Robinson and Alan Johnson.
They were infuriated to see Jas smoking and one of them, eyes bulging, barked, “Who let you smoke here?”
By the ti the two ca in, Jas’s hands were back in the handcuffs, and he casually exhaled smoke, mockingly saying, “You didn’t say smoking wasn’t allowed here, did you?”
One of the officers slamd the table and snarled, “Kid, you really don’t get it.
Spill the beans about all the cris you’ve committed.”
The two sat down, one ready to take notes with a pen, and the other staring nacingly at Jas.
Christopher Taylor’s instruction was to pin a case on Jas Brown and then sentence him for a few years.
How to achieve that was police business.
These two policen were the best in the branch at this kind of work.
They could easily fabricate a criminal charge, adapt details from previous cases, and if Jas wouldn’t confess, they had plenty of ways to make him.
Jas was leaning back against the radiator, still smiling, and said, “What exactly do you want to confess to?”
Jas Robinson abruptly stood, his voice harsh, “Kid, better be smart and save yourself so trouble.
We’ve been investigating you for a long ti, your file is crystal clear.
If you confess honestly, you could get leniency; if you refuse, we have ways to coerce a confession.”
“Well, I’d like to see what thods you’ve got to make confess,” Jas said coolly, hardly taking the two junior policen seriously.
Jas Robinson abruptly stood, but Alan Johnson pulled him back and gave him a look.
Then Alan Johnson settled down and turned to Jas, saying, “Na.”
“Jas Brown.”
“Age.”
“Twenty-six.”
In this formal questioning, Jas Brown cooperated quite well.
He wanted to see what kind of thods these police officers intended to use against him.
After so basic questions, Alan Johnson looked into Jas Brown’s eyes and said, “Where were you on the 8th of June this year?”
“Sorry, it’s been over ten days, I can’t rember.”
John Wilson imdiately snorted and said, “Then let jog your mory, were you at a Casino Resort?”
Jas Brown revealed a smile at the corner of his mouth, knowing that the two police officers were starting to set him up, and said, “I never go to Casino Resorts.”
John Wilson stood up and said leisurely, “Is that so?
Then let remind you a little more, that day you were singing at the Casino Resort, then you went to the restroom, and after that, you bumped into a man in his forties, the two of you had an argunt, and in a fit of anger, you stabbed the man with a knife.”
This case was real, and the person who had stabbed soone had not yet been caught, so these two police officers affixed the case to Jas Brown.
It not only solved the case but was also in line with Christopher Taylor’s wishes to take care of Jas Brown—it was a killing two birds with one stone situation.
Jas Brown felt it was quite amusing and said, “I told you I don’t go to Casino Resorts, so of course, I wouldn’t go around stabbing people.”
“I think you’re stubborn until you see your own doom—you just won’t confess,” said John Wilson as he walked toward Jas Brown.
Unbeknownst to Jas, John Wilson had already gotten a rubber baton in his hand.
Jas Brown yelled out in dismay, “What are you doing?
This is torture, I’ll sue you!”
“You’re wrong, this isn’t torture, when I beat you, you won’t have any marks on your body, hehe, but I guarantee you will feel so good you’d wish you were dead,” John Wilson licked his lips, unable to restrain his excitent.
He was an aggressive man, and had always enjoyed laying into the people they brought in.
However, the regulations had tightened in recent years, and they couldn’t lay hands on suspects so freely, so he hadn’t been able to indulge himself.
Today, however, he saw an opportunity to take full advantage on Jas Brown.
“You can’t treat like this, it’s illegal!” Jas Brown continued to shout, and his voice was extrely loud.
“Speaking to about the law?
Do you know where you are?
This is the Public Security Bureau, and I am the law here,” John Wilson laughed heartily, then swung his arm around, and the rubber baton smashed toward Jas Brown’s shoulder.
“Ah!” With the sound of the baton striking a person, Jas Brown let out a miserable scream, and it was exceedingly mournful.
But beneath Jas Brown’s dismal screams, there was a stifled groan from John Wilson because the baton had not actually hit Jas Brown.
The baton should have struck Jas Brown’s shoulder, but sohow it missed entirely.
Having put a lot of force into the swing and unable to stop the montum, Wilson had managed to hit his own leg.
Alan Johnson nearly laughed out loud.
It had been a long ti since John Wilson had made such a blunder, and if this got out, Wilson would be deeply embarrassed.
Alan hadn’t considered the possibility that there was anything peculiar about this incident.
John Wilson also rely thought it was a mistake.
As for not hitting Jas Brown, Jas’s loud cries must have been out of fear.
Luckily, when the baton hit his own leg, Wilson had controlled the force, so it wasn’t too heavy, but it still felt quite humiliating, hitting himself instead of a man in handcuffs.
As John Wilson swung the baton again toward Jas Brown’s shoulder, this ti he didn’t swing downward but horizontally.
But although the baton appeared to strike Jas Brown, there was no sensation of force feedback from hitting a body.
It was as if there was a layer of oil on Jas Brown’s body; the baton simply slid past.
This ti John Wilson swung with all his might.
Hitting thin air felt like punching into cotton; the force had nowhere to dissipate, and he nearly lost grip of the baton.
After spinning in a half-circle, he finally secured his hold on the baton, feeling inexpressibly uncomfortable.
“Ah, help, soone’s murdering !” At this point, Jas Brown began screaming loudly, confusing John Wilson terribly, as if he hadn’t really hit Jas, and Jas was screaming in pain for no reason.
Could it be that Wilson had lost touch with the appropriate amount of force to use because he hadn’t been active lately?
Was his strike so forceful it was imperceptible when hitting soone?
John Wilson couldn’t figure it out, but his baton didn’t stop; he swung it at Jas Brown again, shouting as he did, “Are you going to talk or not?
If you don’t speak, I’ll hit you until you do.”
“I haven’t committed a cri, what do you want to say, ah, it hurts, sobody help!” Jas Brown’s screams were hoarse and exhausted, as if he was suffering great pain, yet John Wilson didn’t cease swinging the baton.
However, each strike felt increasingly futile, as if every hit was a miss, which was vexing for Wilson.
Yet Jas Brown’s screams seed to affirm that he was being struck, and the screams further excited Wilson, so despite the discomfort, the thrill of it prevented him from stopping his hand.
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