American comics: I am full of martial virtues and I love to be kind to others

Forgotten clues

Kate pursed his lips and did not respond immediately. The two of them stood at the door of the apartment building, and the night breeze blew, calming the atmosphere slightly.

"Do you always think so?" Kate whispered, his voice softer than usual. "You always have the worst plan for everything?"

"This is not an idea, it is an experience." Lynn's tone did not fluctuate much, but it exuded an unquestionable coldness. "When you see enough dangers and betrayals, you will know, any Relaxation can be fatal.”

Kate looked at him, a trace of complex emotions flashed in his eyes. She knew Lynn's words made sense, but she also knew how tired and lonely a life like this would be.

"Maybe you're right," Kate said softly, but then the corners of her mouth rose slightly, "But sometimes it's not necessarily a bad thing to relax."

Lynn's eyes fell on her face, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just nodded, "Go back and make sure the door is locked."

"Thank you for sending me back." Kate smiled slightly and reached out to open the apartment door, but before stepping in, she suddenly looked back at Lynn, "Lynn."

"What?"

"If one day, you need to relax." Kate's voice was soft, but with a meaningful candid, "You know how to find me."

Lin En was slightly stunned, but before he could answer, Kate had turned around and entered the building, the door was gently closed, leaving only a figure behind.

Lynn stood at the door, quietly watching the closed door. His brows frowned slightly, then let go. He didn't know what Kate said meant, maybe he just said it casually, but this casual word was like a seed, planting something lingering in his mind.

The next night, after a full day of investigation, Lynn called Kate for the first time. He didn't plan to explain more, but just said, "I'm near your house and I want to talk."

Kate was obviously a little surprised at first, but there was a hint of undetectable briskness in the voice on the other end of the phone, "Okay, come up. But don't expect me to have any luxurious dinner to entertain you."

Lynn hung up the phone and walked up to Kate's apartment building. The dust on the red brick walls is particularly noticeable under the dim light. Lynn noticed that Kate's apartment door lock had a new lock than last night, which made him nod.

When the door opened, Kate was wearing a loose dark gray sweater with a cup of hot tea in his hand, leaning against the door frame and looking at him, "You're so direct, Agent Lynn. Please come in."

Lynn walked into the house and looked around. Kate's apartment is not big, but it is warmly decorated. There are several black and white photos hanging on the wall. One of them attracted Lynn's attention - the photo shows a family of three, a blond girl standing two Among the adults, they smiled brilliantly.

Kate looked at him and gently lowered the teacup, "That's a picture of me when I was a kid."

"Your family?" Lynn asked, his eyes not looking away from the photo.

"Well, my parents," Kate replied in an understatement, but Lynn captured a hint of imperceptible emotion from hers.

Instead of continuing to ask, he turned around and sat on the sofa, "You don't seem like the kind of person who will let others walk into your home casually."

Kate smiled and handed him the teacup, "You're not a casual person, are you?"

Lynn took the teacup and took a sip. The warmth of the tea made his nerves tense all day relax a little.

"That photo..." Lynn spoke with a hint of temptation in his tone, "It seems that you have a good relationship with your family."

Kate leaned against the other side of the sofa, his eyes drifting out the window, "Yeah, it was really good back then."

Lynn was silent for a moment, knowing she had more to say, but it took time.

"Actually, this is one of the reasons why I am a reporter." Kate finally spoke, his voice becoming soft and low.

Lynn looked up at her and waited for her to continue talking.

"When I was a kid, our family was not wealthy, but we were very happy. My dad was a high school teacher and my mom was a volunteer in the community. That photo was taken on my ninth birthday, and we had just moved there. A new city. Everything looks beautiful.” Kate said softly, with a nostalgic smile on his lips.

"But things have changed." She paused, with a hint of anger in her voice. "One day, my father died in a car accident. But the newspaper reported that he was driving drunk, and even said that he might have been. It has connections with some kind of criminal organization. These are completely fake, just stories made up by journalists to attract readers."

Lynn frowned, "Didn't anyone clarify this for you?"

"Who cares?" Kate's smile was a little self-deprecating, "The newspaper was sold and the public opinion was set. Who would care about the truth? We tried to clarify, but the media were not willing to withdraw the report at all. My mother To protect me, I kept asking lawyers for help, and even went on TV to defend my dad, but everything was in vain. After the label was posted, I couldn't tear it off again."

She stopped and took a sip of tea, as if she was using this brief action to calm her emotions.

“Since then, I swear that if one day I could enter the industry, I would never be that kind of journalist who distorts the facts. I would reveal the truth and let people know that news is not just the title and the story, but behind it The person who influenced the real one." Kate looked up at Lynn, with a firm and complex emotion in his eyes.

Lynn listened quietly, his past unconsciously emerged in his mind. He understood that this feeling, the pain of losing a close relative, coupled with social misunderstanding, was a double harm. He knew that such an experience would shape a person and make her stronger and colder.

"So," Lynn spoke, his tone less cold and hard, and a little more gentle, "this is why you are always willing to take risks, even putting yourself in danger?"

"It's almost the same." Kate chuckled, but there was a hint of fatigue in his smile. "Maybe this is a compensatory mentality. I think if I could reveal some real truth, even if it was just once, it would be considered to be for the injustice I was a child. Give a little bit of compensation.”

Lynn nodded and looked down at the teacup in his hand. He wanted to say something, but he didn't know how to speak for a moment. He rarely faces emotional problems like he is now, especially with someone with a distinct personality like Kate.

"Where are you?" Kate asked suddenly, his tone relaxed, but his eyes were serious. "What made you choose the FBI? I guess it's not just because you are good at catching bad people."

Lynn smiled slightly, but there was a bit of bitterness in his smile, "Maybe like you, out of some sense of responsibility. I lost my parents when I was a child, and it was George who adopted me. He was a policeman, and I watched him work since I was a child. I always feel that maintaining justice is something…one must do.”

Kaite nodded, “So you chose this path, even though it leaves you with little time.”

"I'm used to it." Lin En's tone was plain, but a trace of complex emotions flashed in her eyes.

Kate looked at him and suddenly laughed, "Do you know, Lynn? You look like a man in armor, but in fact, I think you are a person who desires real emotions more than anyone else."

Lynn was stunned for a moment, then shook her head, "You are analyzing me again."

"Occupational disease." Kate said softly, with a hint of teasing in his eyes.

The room fell into a brief silence, but it did not seem awkward, but instead carried some subtle calm. The wind outside the window gently tapped the glass, and the light cast a warm shadow between the two.

"Thank you for telling me this." Lynn finally spoke, his voice low and sincere.

Kate looked up at him and smiled slightly, "I think if it were you, maybe I would understand."

Lynn didn't answer, but his eyes told Kate that he did understand. They may be two completely different people, but those heavy pasts have made them resonate with an indescribable resonance.

As Lynn stood up and was about to leave, Kate walked to the door and looked at him against the frame, "Lynn."

"What?"

"I will prepare dinner next time you come." Kate said with a smile, his tone relaxed.

Lynn raised an eyebrow, "Are you inviting me or giving me an order?"

"Whatever you understand." Kate waved his hand at him, with some meaningful light in his eyes.

Lynn sat in the archives room at the FBI headquarters, surrounded by thick filing cabinets and paper archives. The dim lights sprinkled overhead, and an old file was placed on the table with a line of words printed on the cover: "Miller, Carl Car Accident."

His fingertips stroked across the cover of the document, paused slightly, and opened the file. The document emits an old smell, the edges of the paper are already yellow, but the handwriting on it is still clear. The car accident time, location, witness records, and investigation reports are all arranged neatly.

Lynn's eyes moved rapidly on the report. His hand turned over a few pages from time to time, unwilling to let go of any details. He is not good at dealing with personal emotional issues, but he knows that Kate's past is an indelible pain for her. And he vaguely felt that behind this case, there might be some truth that Kate didn't know yet.

"Miller, Carl." Lynn whispered the name, as if trying to carve it into his mind. He then quickly glanced through the preliminary description of the case.

——"On July 14, 2003, Carl Miller drove an old blue Buick and collided with a truck at an intersection in Brooklyn. He died on the spot."

He frowned slightly, and this seemingly simple description always made him feel that something was missing. Continuing to turn the page, he soon saw photos of the accident scene: the blue Buick was almost completely flattened, while the truck was slightly damaged by the front bumper. In the photo, the driver's blood stain blurs the windshield, and the scene is tragic and chaotic.

"The truck driver's confession..." Lynn murmured in a low voice, his fingers flipped to the relevant records.

The van driver's name was Alvin Clark, who claimed at the time that he saw the Buick run through the red light at an extremely fast speed without any signs of slowing down. The truck has braked, but there is no time to avoid it.

Lynn stared at the confession and frowned even more. He vaguely felt something was wrong, but he couldn't say it for a while. He continued to flip down until an alcohol test report jumped into his eyes.

——"Carl Miller's blood alcohol content: 0.12%.

Lynn stared at the text, and a feeling of uneasiness surged in his heart. His intuition told him that this alcohol report might be the key to the problem.

"How are you looking at the archives?" A low voice came from behind, pulling back Lynn's thoughts.

He turned to see Hans standing at the door of the archives room, holding a cup of coffee in his hand, and looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

"When did you start to be interested in old cases?" Hans walked in, put the coffee on the table, and glanced at the documents casually. "Car accident? It's not like your style, Lynn."

"Private reasons." Lynn did not explain too much, but continued to flip through the archives.

Hans raised his eyebrows, obviously not satisfied with the answer, but he did not continue to ask. He pulled a chair and sat down, staring at the documents in Lynn's hand, "So, what's special about this case?"

"It looks simple, but it's actually strange." Lynn pointed to the alcohol test report. "Carl Miller, an ordinary high school teacher, lives a simple life with almost no bad records. The report says he is happening Driving drunk in a car accident and speeding. "

"Maybe he had a special reason that night?" Hans shrugged. "We have seen too many similar situations, and anyone can suddenly lose control."

"The problem is..." Lynn pointed to the truck driver's confession, "The driver's testimony is too perfect. He accurately described the entire accident, but according to the photos on the scene, the Buick's impact position showed that the truck was directly The main force of the impact—not Carl Miller ran the red light, but the truck accelerated significantly and hit Buick.”

Hans's face became a little serious, and he leaned against the back of the chair, crossing his hands against his chest, "Do you think the van driver is lying?"

"I'm not sure yet," Lynn whispered, his eyes still on the report. "But do you know what I doubt most? This alcohol test report does not match all the on-site evidence."

"Why can't you meet it?"

"If he was really drunk, why didn't the vehicle drive any erratic signs? Look at the location of the accident - a path with only two lanes. According to normal logic, he had no reason to drive here to speed." Lynn raised his head, a cold light flashed in his eyes, "Also, this report comes from a private testing agency, not an official forensic department."

Hans raised his eyebrows, apparently realizing the seriousness of the problem, “You mean, maybe someone has forged the evidence?”

"It's just speculation." Lynn's voice was low and firm, "but this report is too suspicious and I need more information."

"What are you going to do next?"

"Retrieve the background of the truck driver at that time and see if he is related to certain forces. In addition, I also want to check the police officer in charge of this case at that time." Lin En closed the file, his eyes cold, "If this is really a I will dig out the truth for a deliberate incident."

The next day, Lynn retrieved the files of truck driver Alvin Clark in the internal FBI database. Surprisingly, Clark filed for bankruptcy a year after the accident and then disappeared without any trace.

"It's a coincidence." Lynn sat in the office and said to herself. He listed Clark's address, phone number and all related records, but found that the information had long expired.

He then retrieved the records of the police officers responsible for the car accident case at that time. Files show that the case was handled by an old police officer named Frank Cowers, but Lynn soon discovered that Cowers applied for early retirement within three months of the accident, citing "health reasons."

"Both key figures disappeared so clean?" Lin En rubbed his eyebrows, feeling more and more that there was something behind the case.

He called a phone number, and soon Hans' voice came from the other end, "What did you find out?"

"The truck driver disappeared, and the police officer in charge of the case retired early," Lynn replied briefly, "But I have a feeling that these people may have been intervened by some kind of external force behind them."

"Do I need to send someone to check it out?" Hans asked.

"No." Lin En said in a deep voice, "I will deal with this matter for the time being. Too many actions may alarm the enemy."

After hanging up the phone, Lynn stared at the old photo of the truck driver on the computer screen, pondered for a few seconds, then got up and left the office. He knew that in order to find the truth, he had to go deep into the scene and re-investigate the key locations of that year.

Late that night, Lynn drove to the intersection where the car accident occurred. Although years have passed, the pattern of this area has not changed much. The streets are still narrow, with several old grocery stores and restaurants on both sides, and occasionally you can see a few dim street lights.

He stood at the intersection, closed his eyes, and tried to reproduce the scene of the past in his mind: the truck came from the north, the Buicks broke in from the east, and the two cars collided in the middle of the intersection. Witnesses mentioned that the truck was braked in advance, but combined with the photos, the angle and strength of the Buick being hit were more like the sudden acceleration of the truck.

"There is not enough space for the truck driver to brake," Lynn whispered. He stood there, his eyes swept across every detail of the intersection, trying to find the forgotten clue.

At this moment, his eyes fell on an old surveillance camera. It hangs on one side of the street, and although it is obviously abandoned, Lynn knows that the data storage of such cameras may be kept in archives or elsewhere.

"Maybe, this is the breakthrough." Lin Neng murmured in a low voice, then turned around and left.

He didn't know what he would find, but he knew that he had already set foot on this path of truth and would never look back.

After Lynn left the scene of the car accident, he immediately contacted the FBI's technical department. He needs someone to track the records of the surveillance camera installed at the accident site. Although many years have passed, he knows that some data, even if it is sealed in the corner of the archives, may not really disappear completely.