Chapter 96 Interrogation
Sloane's POV
Being falsely accused by that man of "seducing" him, an indescribable rage instantly surged through me.
How could there be such a shameless person in this world?
"Officers, you have to help me!" When the man saw the police approaching, he immediately escalated his act, pointing at me with tears streaming down his face as he accused me, as if he were the victim.
The officer on duty frowned and looked at me, his eyes carrying a hint of scrutiny and distrust.
That look made me extremely uncomfortable.
I was about to explain when Harrison stopped me with a glance.
He just looked coldly at the man, as if watching a clown perform.
"Ma'am, sir, please cooperate with our investigation." A young officer stepped forward, his gaze shifting between us, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We need to search you both."
"Search us?" My heart jumped, and I instinctively wanted to refuse. This was completely unjust!
However, Harrison reacted faster than I did.
Without arguing, he calmly reached into his suit jacket's inner pocket, took out a card holder, pulled out a black credential, and handed it to the officer.
The material and design of the credential exuded understated luxury. I couldn't make out the words on it, but the moment the officer saw it, his expression changed dramatically.
His previously scrutinizing gaze instantly froze, replaced by an almost fawning respect.
"Mr. Rex! I apologize! We failed to recognize you, we've been very rude!" The officer's body straightened almost reflexively, his voice carrying a barely noticeable tremor. He quickly returned the credential with both hands, fine beads of cold sweat appearing on his forehead, his eyes filled with awe and fear as he looked at Harrison.
The surrounding officers also gathered around, and after seeing the credential, they all showed the same expression without exception.
They quickly restrained all disrespect, becoming extremely deferential, even lightening their breathing.
I stood beside Harrison, taking in this scene, but my confusion only deepened.
What kind of credential was that? One that could make these well-trained police officers change their attitude instantly, even making that criminal Mike so frightened he fell silent, forgetting even to cry out? I sneaked a glance at Harrison. His face still wore that cool, composed expression, as if everything that just happened had nothing to do with him.
"Take this man to the interrogation room." Harrison took back the credential, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable authority. "I hope you can quickly get to the truth of this matter."
"Yes! Mr. Rex!" the officers responded in unison, quickly lifting the limp Mike from the ground.
As Mike was being dragged away, he was still muttering something under his breath, his eyes full of fear and despair.
Harrison walked to the outside of the interrogation room, watching through the one-way glass as Mike was brought in.
The interrogation began quickly, but the man was clearly an old hand, refusing to admit anything. One moment he was crying and playing the victim, the next he was acting crazy.
Harrison's expression grew darker bit by bit. The gentleness in his eyes completely faded, replaced by a terrifying coldness. He had clearly lost his patience.
"Everyone out." He suddenly spoke, his voice so low it seemed to come from hell, carrying a chilling hostility. "Turn off the surveillance."
The officers all showed hesitation and difficulty on their faces. But meeting Harrison's ice-cold eyes, they ultimately chose to obey.
"Mr. Rex, this..." the lead officer tried to persuade him.
"Out." Harrison's tone left no room for negotiation.
"No, no! Officers! You can't leave! You can't leave me alone in here!" Mike saw their movements from inside the interrogation room and was instantly terrified. He jumped up from his chair, pounding on the table, shouting hoarsely, "You can't abandon me, he's crazy! He'll kill me!"
However, his cries didn't stop the officers' actions.
They just glanced at him, their eyes full of helplessness and fear, but ultimately left the interrogation room resolutely, even closing the door behind them.
Soon, the lights in the interrogation room dimmed, and the surveillance indicator light went out.
I stood outside the interrogation room, terror and curiosity intertwining in my heart.
I didn't know what Harrison was going to do, but my instinct told me that whatever he was about to do would be beyond my understanding.
A dull thud came from inside the interrogation room, followed by Mike's pained groan and pleas for mercy.
"I'll ask you one last time," Harrison's icy voice came faintly through the heavy door, each word like a hammer striking my heart, "who put you up to this?"
"It wasn't me! Really not me!" Mike cried and begged, his voice full of fear. "I don't know anything! Please let me go!"
Another sound of fist meeting flesh, and Mike's voice instantly became hoarse, leaving only painful whimpers.
Harrison walked out of the interrogation room. His suit jacket had some bloodstains on it, but his face still wore that cool, composed expression, though the hostility in his eyes hadn't completely faded.
"Pull up his recent communication records." He ordered expressionlessly, his tone carrying an undeniable command.
The officers immediately sprang into action. I looked at Harrison, my confusion and shock reaching their peak.
This refined gentleman—how many unknown secrets was he hiding?
In the police station, several officers kept their heads down, submissive before Harrison, not daring to breathe loudly. They were clearly frightened by the commotion from the interrogation room, their faces full of awe and fear. Harrison paid them no more attention. He turned around and walked with steady steps toward me sitting in the corner.
"Dr. Sloane, are you alright?" His voice was as cool as ever, yet carried a barely noticeable gentleness.
He crouched down in front of me, and in those eyes behind his glasses, at this moment, only my reflection existed.
I shook my head, trying to calm myself down.
Although my body was still trembling slightly, the fear in my heart had gradually been replaced by a complex emotion.
I looked at him. On his suit jacket, the bloodstains were clearly visible—marks left there because of me.
"That man has confessed. He admitted he was instructed by Keira." Harrison briefly explained the situation, his tone as calm as if discussing the weather, yet it sent a chill through my heart. This man handled things flawlessly and decisively, far more unfathomable than I had imagined.
"Thank you, Harrison." I said sincerely, my voice carrying a barely noticeable tremor.