American TV series Detective's Daily Life

The case is simple.

A rich alcoholic father, Paul Sr., has now given up drinking. When he saw that his son, Bauer Jr., was still drinking, he was very dissatisfied and threatened to kick his son out of his will. There was a quarrel, and then the father fell from a tall building and died.

Prosecutors charged the son with patricide.

Law firm provides innocent defense.

Chuck quietly observed everything in the courtroom.

During adjournment.

"How about it?"

Diane asked.

"Four jurors expressed mild distaste for him."

Chuck said simply.

"Is it because of the crime scene photos?"

the female lawyer asked.

"No, it's because of the photo of Mr. Ball in World War II clothing with a beer in his hand."

Chuck shook his head.

"It's better now, they think Mr. Ball is a World War II madman."

Diane said with a headache.

"We can still investigate the home invasion, as long as we find another suspect."

The female lawyer reminded.

"All right."

Diane nodded and looked at the female investigator: "Kelinda, you go investigate the robbery."

Kelinda agreed and left.

"It's lunch, and I need to watch the jury members eat."

Chuck said something, nodded and left.

Court Restaurant.

Chuck found a deserted corner to sit down and began to take out his lunch boxes and lay them out.

"Can I sit here?"

An expectant and childish voice sounded.

Chuck looked up and saw little Leonard holding a dinner plate and looking at him eagerly.

Not far away, Diane was sitting with her nephew Mike and the female lawyer. With a smile on his face, little Mike talked to his aunt and them about his understanding and longing for lawyers, which attracted their attention, so much so that even little Lena Even if virtue is gone, I have forgotten it.

Chuck nodded and said seriously: "As long as you don't eat dairy products."

“No dairy whatsoever!”

Little Leonard quickly moved the plate forward to indicate that he did not order any dairy products, then looked at the seats with a grin, and wisely sat in the seat farthest from Chuck on the opposite side.

The two of them enjoyed their lunch quietly.

"Aunt Diane said you were a detective, so you could tell right away that I was lactose intolerant?"

After a while, little Leonard couldn't bear it anymore and asked his doubts: "This is so cool!"

"At your age and height, it's time to drink more milk, but there's no dairy at all on your plate. I don't want to smell the smell."

Chuck wanted to laugh in his heart, but he couldn't control his body, so he remained serious and expressionless.

Lactose intolerance, indigestion of lactose, prone to gas, commonly known as excessive farting.

Little Leonard was suddenly embarrassed. He took out an asthma spray and took a few puffs into his mouth, but he was not angry at all.

no way.

I've long been used to it.

If this could piss him off, he would have become the Hulk.

So he quickly calmed down and grinned: "You are so awesome!"

Chuck said nothing and continued to eat, occasionally raising his eyes to observe the jury dining together in the distance.

"How can I become as powerful as you?"

Little Leonard asked the most curious question in his heart.

"Exercise more, rest more, and eat more vegetables."

Chuck glanced at him.

"..."

Little Leonard smiled silently and bitterly.

Although he is still young, he has a super high IQ and has been 'trained' since he was a child. He is too precocious. Naturally, he knows that this is a common expression used by adults to coax children to obey.

Of course it is useful.

He can rest more and eat more vegetables, but as an asthmatic, how can he exercise more?

Besides, what does exercising more have to do with becoming a better detective?

He's not going to the Olympics!

The phone rings.

Chuck put down the spoon, wiped his hands and mouth, and then took out his cell phone to connect. After listening for a while, he glanced at Little Leonard and said to the other end of the phone: "Send it over."

"Is there a new case?"

Little Leonard was curious.

"No, just doing me a favor."

Chuck shook his head, took out his laptop from his handbag, put it on the table, and started working.

Texas.

Galveston County.

More than three hours ago.

IRS branch.

A tall, fat man walked in with a little boy in a suit and bow tie.

"I'm George Cooper and this is my son Sheldon."

"I know, we talked on the phone."

The bald clerk glanced at the father and son with a half-smile.

"Your voice sounds exactly like it does on the phone, not everyone does."

Little Sheldon said seriously.

"let us start."

George interrupted immediately.

This national tax audit that should not have happened was instigated by his son, who did not know what to say. As an ordinary American with common sense, he knew that he could not offend the IRS by offending anyone.

If you let your son continue talking, God knows what will happen. It can't be a good thing anyway!

"Can."

The bald clerk sat down and began to audit the Cooper family's expenses in the past three years, and asked Little Sheldon, who worked as an accountant for his family, to explain the income and expenditure.

George was worried, but little Sheldon was full of confidence and high-spirited to fight, because he was confident that the accounts he made were the most perfect and would never be wrong.

"Let's start with the business deductions on Schedule A of the 1989 tax return."

The bald clerk began.

"Okay, the data is here, divided into dates, highlighted, and listed."

Little Sheldon is confident and calm.

"Explain the need for this expenditure."

The bald clerk continued.

"Our total adjusted earnings were less than $50,000."

Faced with audit questioning, Little Sheldon gave reasonable explanations one by one.

The questions and answers lasted for a full three hours. Seeing that there was nothing he could do, the bald clerk couldn't help but admire him: "It seems that you are really proficient in tax laws. It's really good that you can help your parents manage their income for free at such a young age."

"Oh, I'm not free, my dad will buy me a model train afterwards."

Little Sheldon immediately corrected himself.

"interesting."

The bald clerk immediately laughed: "So you accepted the payment. You are not a licensed tax expert, which is against federal law."

Little Sheldon was stunned, and then he couldn't control his bladder: "Sorry, I have to go to the toilet."

George waited for a long time, but still didn't see his son back. He hurried out to look for him, only to find his son sitting on the ground crying.

Little Sheldon cried and said that because of this mistake, his family would lose a lot of money in back taxes, and their family was very poor and did not have this money.

More importantly, how could a law-abiding person like him violate federal laws!

George had no choice but to comfort him. The father and son returned to the conference room. Just when he was about to admit defeat and accept punishment, little Sheldon suddenly thought that his father was a school coach and a teacher. This was not about accepting payment, but Rewards for getting an education.

The bald clerk saw the eyes of the people standing outside the door, and then looked at George, who was looking at him with a smile and pleading, and nodded: "Okay, there is no problem with your taxes. Your son is really extremely smart."

"Thanks."

Little Sheldon raised his chin: "I hope you will come to audit our house again next year, so that I can win against you again."

"Don't say stupid things!"

George's expression changed drastically, he stood up and pulled Little Sheldon along, preparing to get out of the way.

At this time, the conference room door was pushed open.

Another bald man walked in.

"Director!"

The bald clerk stood up to say hello.

"You guys come with me."

The bald director said something to Little Sheldon and his son, turned around and left.

“Looks like we don’t have to wait until next year.”

The bald clerk looked at them with a half-smile: "Go quickly."

George's face turned pale.

Little Sheldon didn't understand the situation at all, but still smiled confidently: "Winning two games in one day is great."

Director's Office.

"sit."

After the bald director motioned them to sit down, he picked up his cell phone and dialed a number: "Help me audit a tax return!"

Ps: The update time is still 12 noon