Jack had begun to realize that while Sheriff Ronik appeared lazy and timid, he was actually quite dedicated when the time came.
Two state troopers, one black and one white, armed with shotguns, escorted the four criminals from the prison bus through the back door and into the temporary holding cells behind the police station.
Ronik carefully inspected the cells and confirmed the identities of the four criminals with the two state troopers.
In the first cell was a young black woman wearing a hoodie, a street stalker who constantly muttered about her innocence and her innocence. Of course,
zero-dollar purchases were not illegal, as long as the amount did not exceed a certain limit. This was clearly stated in state law in many states. Jack, quietly following Ronik to understand the situation, nodded in understanding.
Next to the black girl in the cell was a black guy about her age who called himself Smylie. He was responsible for buying and selling stolen goods for small amounts, as well as selling some high-end counterfeit goods. It was unclear if he was arrested with the black girl.
The guy in the cell with him was also the only white person among the four inmates, though technically he was Latino. He was a drug addict and robber. His eyes were red, showing that he was still under the influence of drugs. Within five minutes of entering, he had already started a fight with the black guy.
Jack had some impression of this guy's face. He didn't seem to be a particularly famous actor, but he often played villains in movies and TV series.
Because the old police station only had three cells, the female criminals and the gang leader had to be held separately, so there was no way to separate them immediately.
Ronick banged on the bars with his baton for a while before calming the two of them down.
In the last cell was the gang leader, Marino Bishop. After seeing him in person, Jack was completely resigned. It seemed that tonight would not be a peaceful night.
While he hadn't gained as much weight as the later hobo gang leaders in the John Wick series, his domineering and cool demeanor was a dead ringer for Morpheus from The Matrix.
"I don't need an introduction to this guy. I'm sure everyone knows his accomplishments," the black state trooper named Jeffrey sarcastically said.
Bishop calmly surveyed the group, finally settling on the newspaper Ronnick was tucked under his arm. "Can I have that? Maybe I can use the crossword puzzle to pass the time."
Ronnick hesitated, then fetched a pencil, cut it into small pieces, and handed it over along with the newspaper. "I heard you're the only gang leader in town who doesn't use drugs. Why?"
"Because drugs disrupt order. This city is already chaotic enough, isn't it, Sheriff?" Bishop replied flatly.
"Hopefully, this will keep you in this state until you leave."
Ronick placed the newspaper and the pencil, less than two knuckles long, in the gang leader's hand, shrugged noncommittally, and turned to the two state troopers.
"I'll leave this here with you. You can take turns resting up front, but at least one person should stay back."
—
"Any trouble?" John whispered as he saw Jack return.
"Not sure yet, but hopefully nothing will happen," Jack shook his head.
It was already past eleven o'clock in the evening, and it was inconvenient for him to bother his colleagues in New York. Fortunately, this gang leader named Bishop was well-known locally, and a quick search on his phone's browser would reveal plenty of information.
Bishop's gang was quite interesting. Although its members were primarily Black, most of them came from former working-class families.
With the decline of Detroit's auto industry and the advancement of automated production lines, these black workers, already at the bottom of the labor force, were the first to be eliminated.
They have a certain educational foundation, but it is limited to one point. Because they have car loans, mortgages and a whole family to support, after losing their stable jobs, they quickly fall to a level that is even worse than those ordinary homeless people.
Bishop organized these people into a gang that dealt in everything except drugs, including red-light district operations, illegal arms sales, and extorting protection rackets from local businesses.
This gang, comprised of bankrupt black workers, was quite effective, perhaps because its core members were drawn from "good families" among their underworld buddies. They even possessed a certain degree of organization, allowing for disciplined operation.
Of course, Ronik's abstention from drugs wasn't entirely absolute. Bishop, while abstaining from hard drugs, controlled the supply of the highest-quality American herbal remedies in Detroit, providing the gang's primary source of income.
Jack pored over the information he had gathered and felt somewhat reassured. Bishop's arrest seemed largely accidental, as he had been operating under a legitimate and public identity.
This meant he wasn't about to resort to desperate measures, such as a vanjacking or prison break. With his wealth and power came a host of concerns.
As long as a gang leader like this isn't incarcerated in a federal prison and loses the protection of his gang, even if he's a police killer, there's no need to worry about his life for now. A judicial settlement is the best option.
Thinking of this, Jack began to ponder what Ronik had said earlier. Bishop's arrest was indeed odd.
As a gang leader, one with a legitimate identity, why would he choose to kill someone publicly in a church, and the victim was a police officer? There must be some hidden story behind this.
As midnight approached, Jack lit the charcoal in the grill again. Having anticipated the possibility of staying at the police station due to the snowstorm, he and Alice had previously bought a large amount of fresh produce at the supermarket.
The previous dishes were just appetizers; the marinated chicken wings, drumsticks, and steak were even more delicious. However, the simple grill was slow to produce food, and with the unexpected guests, including psychiatrist Alex and two state troopers, it seemed that the supply was insufficient.
Because of the unexpected arrival of a few guests in the back cell, everyone stopped drinking alcohol and opted for coffee or hot cocoa instead, though the atmosphere remained pleasant.
"Did you miss an important date?" Jack handed a slightly forlorn-looking Alex a skewer of grilled wings, then took a few skewers of potato chips from John and placed them on the grill.
"I just didn't expect to be trapped in a place like this on New Year's Eve, consuming a ton of high-calorie food I normally wouldn't touch. Of course, I'm not judging your cooking; quite the opposite. It was just so delicious that I couldn't control myself."
Seeing her expression of resentment, Jack glanced at her meticulously maintained figure and chuckled, "Eat it with confidence. I can guarantee you won't consume more than 30% of your usual calories."
"Come on, come on, it's about to start." Alice rushed over, grabbed the two of them, and left. The New Year's countdown to the Super Bowl was already on TV.
"10, 9, 83, 2, 1! Happy New Year!" Everyone cheered, and then veteran officer Jasper led the singing of the Scottish folk song "Auld Lang Syne.
" This song is also known at the University of the East as "Auld Lang Syne."
After the song ended, the white state trooper, one of the two who had just been called in for the countdown, was about to return to the temporary holding area behind when Jack stopped him. A large tray filled with steaming food was thrust into his hands.
"Take it with you. If anyone else is still awake back there, give some to them."
"Thanks, man, you're a good guy." Neither of them introduced themselves, not even knowing each other's names, but the white state trooper patted Jack's shoulder warmly.
Just as Jack was about to continue his explanation of the caloric value of food to Alex, the white state trooper's exclamation was faintly heard from the temporary holding area behind. Then, a sharp gunshot rang out, startling everyone present.
(End of Chapter)