Life in North America, you call this an autopsy officer?!-Chapter 495 - 277: The Cruel Truth

"You can’t do this!"

"I want a lawyer, I want to protest!"

In the interrogation room, as the door shut and the overhead surveillance camera showed no evident flash, the middle-aged man uneasily struggled to speak.

Thump, thump, thump~

Brian rapped on the table, "Because of you, all of us are working overtime. You understand what I mean, Mr. Maggsi!"

Maggsi was the current owner of the property where eight corpses had been found. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

He appeared to be of mixed heritage, with fair skin typical of Caucasians, a well-formed face, wearing somewhat outdated glasses and a shabby suit, exuding the aura of a destitute scholar.

Maggsi had worked at an employment agency, and all eight victims had submitted their resumes to that agency before Maggsi left the job.

The only problem was that on the surface, Maggsi had not yet rented that particular house before the victims had died.

There must have been some story hidden in between.

Maggsi was somewhat helpless.

With a crying tone, he said, "I am so sorry that remains were found behind my house, but it really has nothing to do with me. I just thought it was a bargain when the house went up for auction, and I bought it with my savings. It has nothing to do with me; I have never harmed anyone, yet you brought me here, even without proper procedures. You can’t do this..."

Anyone seeing such a man, looking scholarly and helpless, would hardly believe he could be the brutal murderer who cruelly killed eight innocent people.

Green looked anxiously at Brian, the expression in his eyes clear: Boss Brian, why do I feel like we got the wrong person?

Brian glared at him and spoke directly, "Green, don’t be swayed by the suspect’s appearance; you must learn to trust the evidence and judgments."

Seeing Green still somewhat torn,

Brian, who had initially prepared to employ some tactics, decided to teach Green a lesson.

This young follower was not stupid, just inexperienced, unaware of the true meaning of "wolf in sheep’s clothing."

He stood up, approached the helpless Maggsi:

"After our investigation, all eight victims turned out to be low-level temp workers.

Some of them were homeless drifters, some were working illegally, all had once submitted resumes at your employment agency.

They were murdered, yet you bought the house that held their remains.

Do you know the effort it takes to bury eight bodies?"

Maggsi, hearing this, became a bit agitated and said, "Impossible, I bought the house and even hired people to renovate the backyard, planting some flowers and grass; I never saw any bodies..."

"Because they were buried deep!"

Brian smiled, "Too many coincidences. After our examination, the victims’ time of death coincides with the time you rented and bought the house, this point—you even couldn’t explain in court!"

"Impossible!"

Maggsi became even more agitated, "You are slandering me!"

"Oh?"

"The evidence is right there, how am I slandering you?"

Maggsi glared at Brian, "I didn’t kill anyone! Your words are framing me; you bad cops, just wait—I will sue you; you won’t get away with slandering me!"

"Then explain to me, why, after you moved into that house, were their bodies found buried deep in the backyard during the subsequent period?"

Brian’s tone was mocking, his expression was irritating:

"Those bones being discovered must have surprised you!

That must have been your first time killing.

Too crude, too foolish.

You only knew to bury near and throw far, but you didn’t know how to bury properly.

The bodies underground are affected by land movement, causing them to shift, so even though you buried them deep, some bones were still exposed. To solve this, you must plant deep-rooting plants above to hold the bodies in place with their roots.

Also, modern devices can approximate the time of death.

These are your slip-ups.

These pieces of evidence can designate you as the suspect, understand?

Not understanding these, what are you doing trying to murder?

Were you just handing us our performance quotas?"

In terms of intentional mockery and sardonic comments, Brian, a keyboard warrior in a past life, was never weak.

The effect was good.

Maggsi flushed warmly, "FK Yarn! You’re the foolish one; how could those victims have been harmed after I moved in? You are clearly slandering me, you son of a bitch, despicable bug, cheese-fed maggot, you.."

"Tsks-tsk-tsk.. indeed foolish.

Even your insults lack variety, absolutely no bite.

People like you are just a waste of air.

Committing crimes just lowers the average IQ of the criminal world.."

"FK Yarn!"

Maggsi, looking at Brian’s smug face, felt his head swell and, red-faced with anger, suddenly stood up and threw a punch at Brian.

Smack~

Brian didn’t indulge him this time.

With a slap, Maggsi was sent flying, sticking to the interrogation room’s wall in a spread-eagle position, sticking for a second or two before slowly sliding down to the floor.

Brian had used a clever force.

He walked over to the dazed Maggsi, looking down at him with a smile, "So, since you are not the murderer of those people, why are you so sure that their time of victimization was before you moved into the house?"

Maggsi: ..

He realized he had been trapped by his own words.

This pretty boy is really mean!

Maggsi sat up from the floor, holding his swelling cheek, and looking down, "I refuse to speak until my lawyer arrives."