Conan: I am really a good person

Chapter 181 "Bang."

The hotel is in Manhattan.

In the morning, there were not many guests in the lobby. Only FBI agents in disguise came in one after another. The FBI agents in suits walked to the front desk and glanced at the colleagues sitting on the street outside, taking seats on the sofas for guests, and waiting for the elevator. He pulled out an ID from his pocket and whispered, "The FBI is handling the case."

The receptionist thought it was a brand name, and just as he was about to reach out to pick it up, he immediately retracted it as if he had encountered a hot potato.

Murders occur frequently in New York, and not a day goes by without the sound of gunshots. The probability of citizens encountering unexpected cases is quite high. She was relatively calm, and immediately pretended to receive a normal guest and lowered her voice: "Uh, hello, what do you need me to do? What?"

The FBI suit took back the ID that had not been opened at all and only showed the FBI logo, and handed over a photo, "Has the gentleman in the presidential suite checked out?"

"How long has it been since he showed up?"

The receptionist looked intently and saw a future in the photo. She frowned and said, "I'm sorry, sir..."

"It's not in the registration information," the FBI suit knew what she was going to say. "You haven't seen him at all."

He changed the question, "The safe passage and independent elevator are in the presidential suite on the easternmost side of the hotel."

"Has any staff member been there frequently recently? Is he still in the hotel now?"

The elevator opened and closed, and a few scattered FBI investigators had already gone upstairs as if nothing had happened. The FBI in suit glanced over, looked at each other for the last time with his colleagues who passed the elevator and went upstairs in the normal way, and then looked at the front desk.

The receptionist was recalling and quickly raised his eyebrows, "Watson."

She replied: "Watson has been in charge of that place recently. He has helped some of the cleaning staff take care of the presidential suite. He often cleans and dines there recently. Not long ago, he went up with breakfast!"

The tone of the answer was very affirmative. It seemed that the front desk had paid attention to 'Watson' before the suit FBI arrived.

This is not the point, the point is: "...he served breakfast this morning?!"

The FBI suit immediately raised his hand to press the in-ear headset and asked in a low voice: "The target person may not have evacuated. Do you want to take action?"

Judy's voice rang in the headset, "Mr. Akai is already on the top floor."

She and Akai Shuichi are both capable players that the FBI is currently in urgent need of, but they are not very familiar with each other. Even because the FBI needs to handle too many official matters, they usually don't handle cases together. They only hear about the rumors in the tea room. Been to this name.

The reason why we were able to take charge of the case together this time was because Shuichi Akai was the one who discovered the 'master' first, and Judy was the one in charge of this unusual case.

She only hesitated for a moment about Akai Shuichi's ability, and then chose to believe, "If the target person is still there, Mr. Akai will be responsible."

Then he said: "Everyone has arrived at each floor of the plan, continue to inquire."

The elevator that had just gone up came down again, and a crisp prompt sounded again. A waiter bowed slightly and diligently guided a gentleman in a suit, hat, and holding a civilized stick out of the elevator.

The person who can make the waiter so attentive must be rich or noble. This can be observed from the texture of the suit. As long as you often wear a suit, you can roughly observe the quality of a suit on a person, even if you have not studied it specifically. Based on the approximate price range, the suit FBI can now quickly determine that the gentleman's suit is custom-made.

As for hats and civilized sticks...

Suit FBI rough judgment: a relatively conservative UK gentleman.

Such a gentleman usually comes from a rich family, and a suit is just the most common part of the suit. The FBI soon discovered a piece of evidence: there was a special driver waiting at the door in a sports car.Under the sun, the silver-white sports car almost sparkled.

Many FBI agents in the hall looked over, their eyes hurt by the light of money, and they adjusted their sitting and standing postures uncomfortably.

The FBI in suit swept over the luxury car and watched as the gentleman in suit nodded to the waiter who opened the door and sat elegantly in the back seat. He couldn't help but mutter to himself in a joke: "Open the door, tax bureau!" '.

Then he asked the front desk seriously: "OK, I understand. Miss, when was the last time you saw Watson?"

The front desk licked his lips a few times, looked at the distinguished guests outside the door who had attracted all the attention, and then looked at the suit FBI, "Wo, Watson..."

"Yes," the FBI suit raised his eyebrows, "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Or have any of your other colleagues serving on the top floor seen him?"

He explained, "Your hotel's surveillance system has been out of order for a few days, and nothing was captured."

No one reported it.

Probably the 'master' did something.

It is normal for a guy who can scare highway killers into cowardly peeing puppies and evade cameras with precision. He can destroy cameras and suppress the news within a certain number of days. The FBI has already predicted this when remotely adjusting the cameras. I was still a little frustrated when I couldn't find any clues, but I really didn't find any clues.

"No," the receptionist was almost stunned, "Watson!"

……what?
The FBI suit frowned, not understanding what was going on. Suddenly, a subtle, fleeting flash of inspiration flashed through his mind. He almost trembled all over. He had no time to grasp the lightning-like thought, and He turned around hastily and looked at the hotel door.

Before the silver-white sports car drove away, the waiter stood respectfully at the rear door, bending down to talk to the gentleman in the car. I don’t know what he said. The gentleman laughed, stretched out his hand, and spoke with a black The back of the glove patted his cheek and said something with a smile.

Then, he shifted his gaze slightly, looked through the slowly rotating glass door, and looked at the FBI suit.

Seemingly noticing the almost dumbfounded expression of the FBI in suit, the gentleman laughed again.

He took off the black top hat with his right hand, pressed it on his left chest, nodded politely, and silently said hello.

Then the short hair with a wolf tail was exposed.

Under the sunlight, the short white wolf-tailed hair, which was almost the same color as the sports car and shone with a dazzling, mocking light in the sunlight, was exposed.

The street seemed to suddenly become quiet, and the FBI in disguise all turned their attention.

The gentleman didn't seem to notice. He put his hat on the car seat on one side, pulled out the handle of the civilization stick with his hand, and pulled out a small pistol.

He raised his pistol and pointed it vaguely at the FBI suit. He still had a graceful smile on his face. He couldn't be more friendly, but his finger pulled the trigger.

"Boom."

A flame popped out and danced in the sunlight.

(End of this chapter)