"So, you're saying that a call girl's greatest value isn't in bed, but more in psychological satisfaction?"
Jack was quite surprised. He'd heard of some programs under the guise of sex therapists, even licensed in some states.
But the fact that this brothel owner had expanded her business from simply providing sexual services to this high-end market showed some skill.
After bidding farewell to Mrs. Peyton, Jack and Aubrey drove to the Reunion Tower in downtown before dark for afternoon tea and to meet up with Jiejie to review their current case leads.
Most cities have a few landmark buildings in their city centers, and the television towers that provide broadcast and television signals are perhaps the most indispensable.
Of course, with the passage of time, these towers have expanded beyond simply providing wireless signals and have also become important tourist attractions.
The Reunion Tower in Dallas is no exception. Standing 171 meters tall, its main structure is a grid-like sphere, resembling a bird's nest mounted on concrete pillars.
This "bird's nest" has three floors: the lower level is an observation deck, the middle level is a revolving restaurant, and the top floor is a bar.
Downtown Dallas is generally considered a fairly safe area in the US. Perhaps the saying "everyone with a gun, there will be peace" is true.
Texas is arguably the most liberal state in the US regarding gun laws. A recently enacted law allows most legal Texans to carry guns in public without training or a license.
This is precisely what made Jack a little uncomfortable. While others might be surprised to see a woman dressed as a sexy cowgirl opening the elevator door for them, he could clearly see that the revolver draped around her slender waist was genuine, fully loaded.
Jiejie was already waiting for them in the revolving restaurant in the middle. Having previously discussed the situation over the phone, she smiled and teased upon seeing them.
"What are you going to do next? Now that we've lost our only motive, how about trying our luck by contacting the girls through that woman?"
"As someone told us not long ago, no call girl will speak to the FBI." Jack, admiring the surrounding scenery, ordered a pot of black tea for the three of them.
Thanks to the misdeeds of some of his unnamed colleagues, the FBI's reputation isn't exactly infamous, but it's certainly notorious.
Going back on their word is commonplace, and sending their own informants into jail when sales are low or to advance financially is commonplace.
I thought that if I could track down the madam, things would be easier. I hadn't expected them to use a "B2C" model, with the prostitutes themselves controlling their primary client lists.
This might simply be a risk-avoidance tactic, but it's undeniably effective. At least when it comes to collecting evidence, convicting someone is difficult unless they're caught in the act.
Jiejie blinked her beautiful eyes. "I'm curious. If that's the case, how do Ms. Peyton and the people behind her profit from this? Are they simply relying on collecting 'training' fees?"
"Of course there's more to it than that." Aubrey had already privately inquired through his former circle. "Ms. Payton is actually in cahoots with our 'scavenger.'
They guarantee the girls' safety and security, and in return, each 'call girl' regularly donates to a charity."
It sounded more reliable than food delivery platforms like "X Group" and "Baolemei." Jack shrugged and was about to continue browsing when he noticed a crowd gathering on the street below and police cars blocking the surrounding intersections.
"Are there any demonstrations happening locally lately?" He muttered casually, not to the two newcomers beside him, but as he spoke, he pulled out his phone to check the local news.
"Black Lives Matter" marches in Dallas too? Jack was startled by the headlines, wondering if the George Floyd incident, which has exacerbated the class divide in America, had finally happened.
He continued browsing the details and breathed a sigh of relief. It turned out to be a peaceful "walk" organized by a group called the Next Generation Action Network in response to two recent police shootings of black criminals in Louisiana and Minnesota.
Reports said approximately 800 people had responded to the peaceful "walk." Jack observed the blocked street. While the crowd was certainly small, the police presence was substantial.
The street where the "walk" was taking place was near a neighborhood garden called "Bello Gardens," with numerous adjacent intersections.
Normally, it would take four to six police cars to block both sides of a major intersection, but at this moment, both sides of the street were lined with flashing lights—at least forty or fifty.
With a ratio of two officers per car, the local police department deployed nearly a hundred officers to maintain order at the "walk."
Thus, the three FBI agents were "trapped" atop the tower, as the peaceful "walk" was located between their hotel and the "Reunion Tower."
Luckily, work is work no matter where you are, so the three of them simply ate dinner in the revolving restaurant. It wasn't until nearly 9 p.m., when the street activities were winding down, that they packed up and took the elevator down to the parking lot to return to the hotel.
Jack drove the Suburban past the famous Dealey Plaza, the scene of Kennedy's whimsical assassination. Just as he was about to turn left and pass the memorial for the president, affectionately known as "JFK," a burst of sound like firecrackers rang out not far away.
The three people in the car instinctively looked down, and Jack even pressed the window button, lowering it slightly to better determine the source of the gunfire.
"Over 300 meters ahead, there's automatic rifle fire, someone's exchanging gunfire with the police." Almost as Jack began, the cacophony of sirens suddenly filled the air, drowning out his next words.
"What did you say?" Aubrey shouted, his eyes wide.
"I said there's a shootout with the police!" Jack repeated the last half of his sentence loudly, then reclined the seat and held out his hand. "Bulletproof vests! Give us bulletproof vests first!"
Jiejie sat in the passenger seat, so Aubrey had to sit in the back. There was only a foldable partition between the rear compartment and the trunk, and all their equipment was placed in the trunk.
(End of this chapter)