Mysterious Hunting Ground

Chapter 113 113. Simulation portrait
LVPD.

Dean and Ruster track down Carl to ask about the investigation.

"You two, be patient. How could you find clues so quickly in the past morning?" Carl shook his head, "The guys are still checking the surveillance video outside, asking about Grace's former colleagues...the collected evidence will probably be brought tonight. return,"

Carl rubbed his temples, and said a little tiredly, "It's time to stay up all night again."

"We found an important suspect." Dean said, "I don't know the specific name, but I can describe his appearance. I need a professional painter to help me draw him."

Dean is a soul-level painter, unable to describe the appearance of the scar-faced man, and there is no such thing as computer graphics in this era.

"Wait, what suspect? Where did you find it?" Carl frowned tightly,
Dean gave Ruster a look, and the latter recounted his experience and inferences in the morning.

"The scar-faced man, maybe he's a loan shark? It's worth investigating." Carl touched the shiny Mediterranean Sea, looked at Dean, and thought of his surprisingly accurate intuition in many past cases, nodded.

"Currently there is no full-time analog portrait artist in Lvpd. We can only wait for Holden to come back and let him draw it himself, or go to a nearby art academy to ask a teacher to come over, but it will take a long time."

"Then wait for Holden. But what is the profession of the analog portraitist you are talking about?" Dean asked curiously,
Carl began to popularize science with a look of admiration on his face,
"A simulated portraitist is also called a criminal portraitist, who can draw suspects based on descriptions of witnesses or victims."

"But they not only need to understand painting, light and shadow lines, but also criminal investigation and medical anatomy."

Carl looked at the pensive Dean and Rust with an unclear face, and smiled,

"They can combine the environment, cause of death, anatomy, and draw the original appearance of highly decomposed corpses and even skulls."

"Also communicate with witnesses, ask about physical characteristics of suspects, draw portraits."

"A good analog portraitist is not copying and copying, but reasonable analysis and reasoning, with excellent spatial imagination and reasoning skills."

"You mean that Holden is so powerful?" Dean asked,

"Otherwise, why did the Bureau confess this free man? Analog portraitists are very rare in the United States, almost one in a million."

Carl's voice changed, and he looked at the young man in front of him with a complicated expression.

"Having said that, you are not bad. I can at least understand some of the reasoning and analysis of the simulated portrait based on the existing evidence and descriptions. And you, you helped me catch the Abby case and the robbery and murder case last time." The process of the murderer...is like guessing out of thin air, and you were fooled."

"Your method is only a lot of assumptions, lacking scientific evidence, but you can always catch the murderer."

"I'll take it as a compliment."

Half an hour passed.

Holden finally arrived late, and led the two of them straight to the office without saying a word, took out charcoal pencils and a sketchpad from the file cabinet, sat down in the most comfortable position, glanced over,
"Let's get started, Dean, first tell me what the shape of the suspect's face you saw."

"Didn't you see that outside the Kovan Hotel?" Dean said,

"It's been more than a month, and I didn't pay much attention at the time." Holden shook his head, "Hurry up."

Dean closed his eyes, sank into the "record" function in God's perspective for an instant, and began to look through the video records from more than a month ago.

The process was like playing a VR game, and he once again saw the scene of the scar-faced man entangled Grace personally.

In this illusory country, he is a pair of omnipresent eyes, who can change the angle at will and observe to his heart's content.

"Winter melon face, long chin," Dean said.

Holden casually sketched a skull-like circle, and then drew a lower jaw-like outline to show,

"Well, the jaw line is even more angled."

"now what?"

"Suitable."

"Say what you think are the most prominent facial features of the suspect, in as much detail as possible."

"There is a scar the size of a small fingernail on the bridge of his nose, shaped like a coin, and it is located between the two inner corners of the eyes."

The pencil slid across the white paper, and Rast, who was quietly observing, held his breath and listened to the exchange between the two.

"Do you think so?"

"almost."

Holden drew several criss-cross lines to divide the face into several areas,

"Then what kind of eyebrows and eyes does he have?"

"Shallow, sparse eyebrows, eyes as small as a mouse, and with a twinkle."

"Single eyelid or double eyelid?"

"Single eyelid."

"what occupation?"

"It may be a private loan."

……

in the office.

Orderly conversation, and the sound of pencils and erasers gliding across white paper reverberates.

Holden kept asking about the suspect's appearance, temperament, and posture, and based on Dean's answer, thinking, deliberating, repeatedly deleting and modifying the work, and finally drew a lifelike portrait of the suspect.

With a scar on the bridge of the nose and wicked eyebrows, he looks like a middle-aged man with a hint of cruelty in his cunning.

Dean glanced at it, compared it with the image in the record, and exclaimed,

"The painting is [-]% similar to the suspect himself. You hide very deeply. You are not only a profiler but also a one-in-a-million analog portraitist."

Holden put down the sketchpad, shook his head,

"I'm at an average level in profile, and I'm just an amateur player in mock portrait."

"This time the drawing fits better because of your description. Few witnesses can describe the suspect's appearance so accurately and specifically, even the angle of the nasolabial folds around the nose. Any painting skills A solid guy to take over, no worse than me."

Last also looked at his companion in amazement, "The description of the scar-faced man by those three little bastards is vague and general, and you only met this guy last month, and you remember it so clearly, you have such a good memory? "

Dean shook his head and said in a daze, "I'm just sensitive to this criminal look."

……

Next, the three of them copied a bunch of portraits of the scar-faced man, leaving most of them to the police officers in the bureau, and Dean and Rust shared the remaining ones.

Ruster gritted his teeth and looked at the man in the painting, and suddenly suggested,
"Gentlemen, can we post the portrait?"

Holden and Dean looked at each other, shook their heads,

"At the moment, it's just a suspicion, without any evidence. And if the man with the scarred face is really the murderer, doing so will definitely alarm him, causing him to escape, clean up the evidence, and even kill him."

Ruster's face turned white,
"Don't worry too much, the guys in the team are veterans, with this portrait, as long as he is still in Las Vegas, he can't escape." Holden put a portrait under his arm, calmly Analysis, "Let's go and look at the files. This guy is not a good guy. Maybe he has committed crimes and left a record."

……

Holden led the two to find the file office, and began reviewing the densely packed photos. Last was full of energy, especially active.

"Does this guy look like to you?"

"Scarface doesn't have such a big hooked nose."

"Look at this picture, hair, eyes, nose, like twin brothers with scar faces!"

"To be honest, it's not like that at all. Rust, calm down, don't look like everyone is a suspect, it will only slow down the progress."

"I-I understand."

From three o'clock in the afternoon to six o'clock in the evening, the three of them were so busy that the sky was dark and the sky was dark. After reading hundreds of photos of criminals in the case, unfortunately, they couldn't find a matching target.

Exactly at this time.

The police officers who went out to investigate came back one after another, entered the team's meeting room to analyze the case, and gathered various evidences.

"Looking at surveillance and confessions is exhausting. You two should go home and rest. You'll be exhausted before others find it." Holden put away the criminal's file. "Come back tomorrow morning, and I'll tell you the conclusion."

Dean persuaded Rust, who wanted to stay, and handed Holden a few hundred-dollar bills, "Take this money and buy the guys some supper."

"You have a heart."

Holden took the money and left with the pile of photocopies.

"Dude, I owe you the money for this treat." Rust was extremely ashamed. He asked his friend to spend money to clear the relationship even though it was his own case. "I'll pay you back when the case is over."

"What money is not money, don't mention it when I'm a friend," Dean put his arms around his shoulders and smiled, "Half a year ago, I had the cheek to eat and drink your food and cost you a lot of money, and I said I owe you a favor, and I don't want anything to happen to Grace."

While talking, Dean suddenly turned his eyes to the police station door,

Britney carrying a bag, Baker and other five friends trotted over from the lobby of the police station, surrounded Ruster, chirped and greeted,
Gretchen next to him picked up his shoulder bag and gave Dean a light hammer.
"Is there anything we can do to help?"

"It's really a little physical work."

……

It was inconvenient to post photos of the scar-faced man, so everyone printed a lot of Grace's missing person notices, drove around the city, and posted them all over the walls, telephone poles, and street lights.

After ten o'clock in the evening, I finished posting and called it a day.

"Advertising Worker" Dean took Ruster back to his home. After all, they had just taught the three gangsters a lesson near Ruster's house in the morning, and there was a certain risk there.

As soon as the two entered the house.

"Good evening, Mr. Paque."

"Come here, Ruster."

Paque, who was paralyzed on the sofa enjoying the TV song and dance show without any image, put down his beer and sat up straight.

"I heard on the phone, don't worry too much, your mother will definitely return safely." Paqui opened a can of beer and handed it over, "Take a shower and go to bed early, you look exhausted."

Last took a big gulp of beer, sat on the sofa tiredly and yawned, but his body trembled slightly.

Too many things happened today, which made him physically and mentally exhausted.

As soon as he closed his eyes, the familiar face deep in his soul seemed to be leaving him.

There was a faint fear in his heart, and he didn't dare to think about it.

"Last, relax. You have tried your best. Don't put too much pressure on yourself. Otherwise, when Grace comes back and sees you so haggard, she will definitely die of heartache."

"Yeah." Ruster took a deep breath and leaned back on the sofa.

Pacquila looked at her nephew again, "What are you holding?"

"Suspect." Dean handed over a painting, "We must find him as soon as possible."

Paque looked at the portrait and frowned for a while, "Andre and Jacob know some well-informed local friends. I'll take the portrait and ask him to help find it."

"Thanks, Paqui." The drowsy Rast next to him lifted his spirits instantly.
"Don't make it known to everyone and alert the suspects." Dean reminded,
"Forget what your uncle does, I know how to measure." Paqui patted his chest, and smiled heartily at the two, "Just wait for the good news."

(End of this chapter)