Los Angeles Legendary Sleuth

"What are you complaining about? Dissatisfied with you, or me?"

"Neither, he was mostly complaining about Lawyer Jarvis; they had an unpleasant talk this morning, and Lawyer Jarvis pressured him to settle as soon as possible."

"I didn't hear wrong, did I? A lawyer pressuring a client to settle?"

"Lawyer Jarvis's firm serves not only Danny Carter but the whole Rams team. Although Danny didn't say it outright, I think the Rams team might be responsible for Jarvis's attorney fees.

So, Jarvis is probably considering the interest of the entire Rams team more."

Luke said, "Maybe that's why Danny Carter hired us."

"Right, under such circumstances, he's more inclined to trust us." Daisy pointed at another dish, "What's this called? It's soft and tastes good."

"Braised beef tendon with scallions, good stuff."

"As long as it's not something weird." Daisy felt relieved and clumsily picked up another chopstick's worth, "Any progress in your investigation?"

"Yes, I found the suspicious man described by the black lady."

"The black man with the dreadlocks?"

"Exactly, his name is Quentin Hargis, a colleague of Billie Warwick's boyfriend; they both work at a convenience store. I met him this morning, and indeed he was quite suspicious."

"Do you think he's the car thief?"

"It's very likely, but I don't have enough evidence yet."

"So, what are you planning to do?"

Actually, Luke had also been pondering this issue. After interacting with Quentin Hargis, he felt Hargis was a strong suspect and quite likely the car thief.

Investigating in the old police way definitely wouldn't work; now as a detective, Luke needed to be more flexible and didn't have to be too concerned about 'evidence'.

Since he suspected Quentin Hargis, it was time to verify his hunch.

...

Nine o'clock in the evening.

A black Ford sedan drove into the Zaters community.

The car was blaring loud rock music, and the driver could be seen headbanging in the cabin.

The car pulled into a yard on the south side of the community and stopped in front of a garage. A black man with dreadlocks got out of the car.

The dreadlocked black man looked around and noticed an extra figure outside the yard.

"Who's there?"

"Good evening, Mr. Quentin Hargis." Luke walked out from the shadows to the yard's entrance.

"It's you, the reporter from this morning. How did you know my name?"

Luke smiled, "I know more than just your name."

Quentin Hargis said coldly, "What are you doing at my house?"

"I want to ask you a few more questions."

"Listen, the interview is over. Please leave my home; I do not wish to receive strangers."

"No need to be nervous, just a few questions and then I'll be on my way."

"I have no obligation to answer your questions again, and I hate being followed. Leave my property immediately, or else don't blame me for not being polite."

"What would you like to do then? Call the police?"

Quentin Hargis pointed at Luke, "You're right, I'll report you for harassment."

"Then go ahead and call the cops. Let's see if they arrest you or me?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"On the evening of November 18th, someone captured you stealing a car on camera?"

"Bullshit, you're framing me; I didn't steal any car."

"OK, then you dial 911, let the cops take me away."

The two stared at each other, Quentin Hargis with an angry expression.

Luke said calmly, "If you don't want to call 911, then let's talk things through honestly."

Quentin Hargis took a deep breath, and somewhat helplessly said, "What do you want exactly?"

"Where's the Porsche 911?"

"I don't know what you're talking about?"

"I know you stole the Porsche 911, tell me where it is, and we'll be even."

"What if I say I don't know?"

"Then I'll call 911, hand over the evidence I have to the police, and you won't need to work at the convenience store anymore. The citizens of Los Angeles will take care of you, even provide you with a new place to live.

If you're lucky, you might even find yourself a boyfriend."

"Shut up, I hate being threatened, and you think you can scare me with a few light words?" Quentin Hargis stared intently at Luke, "Say it again, I didn't steal any car.

If you leave now, I can pretend nothing happened.

Otherwise, don't blame me for not being polite."

Luke took out his phone, aimed the screen at Quentin Hargis, and then pressed three numbers, 9-1-1.

Just as Luke was about to press the call button, Quentin Hargis shouted, "Stop!

Don't call 911."

Luke asked again, "Where is the Porsche car?"

Quentin Hargis rubbed his chin with his hand, glared at Luke, and after a long silence said, "It's in the garage."

"Which garage?"

Quentin Hargis pointed behind him, "This one right here."

Luke stood at the gate of the yard, "May I go in?"

"Of course."

The two walked up to the garage door, and Quentin Hargis looked at Luke again, asking, "Do you really have a video of me stealing the car?"

"Of course."

"Let me see it."

"Let me see the car first."

"I can give you the car, but you have to give me the video."

"Agreed."

Hearing Luke's assurance, Quentin Hargis finally walked to the side of the garage, unlocked the rolling shutter, and rolled it up.