The Unveiling of Secret Queen

Chapter 811: Nathalie Has Already Found the Beijing Number

The police officer by their side did not know his identity but did not think that if a veteran like him could not interrogate them, changing a person would make it easy.

Amadeus Yancey didn’t wait for Simon Cadwell to finish speaking, his hand resting on the table, tapping the edge with his fingertips, his slightly cold gaze landing on the few hooligans sitting directly across from him.

That gaze was as tangible as it was terrifying!

Despite being veterans of the streets themselves, proud of their worldly experiences, they were shaken by his look.

But they had taken the money and knew the rules of the underworld, determined to say nothing.

"Alfred Garland."

Amadeus seemed to see their nervousness in their inability to meet his eyes and lazily called out.

"Amadeus, at your command," Alfred was right beside him, clenching his fists, eager to proceed.

Amadeus was succinct, "The leader, start by dislocating his right arm."

His tone was as casual as one deciding whether to eat or drink soup first.

"Yes," Alfred responded as if it were routine, not even blinking as he walked towards the stunned hooligans.

A scream was heard.

The muscular man’s face twisted in pain as he struggled desperately in the chair, calling out, "There’s surveillance here, you can’t touch me, I’ll sue you! Sue you all for illegal interrogation!"

He met the man’s blood-thirsty gaze, and his screams abruptly stopped.

That look was terrifying!

It was as if it wouldn’t be surprising if he were killed right here today!

"Did I hear you guys took steel pipes to block someone?" The man took out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, placed one between his lips, looking disheveled and fiercely unstoppable, "Tell me, who’s pulling your strings behind the scenes?"

The lit cigarette butt’s fiery glow flickered as he nonchalantly flicked the ash, the ashes scattering down, still bearing that entitled demeanor, just without his usual good temper, showing his truly intimidating nature, "I’m only giving you one chance. The first to speak might get a lighter sentence; the rest, ten years minimum."

The remaining police officers inside: ...

Simon Cadwell observed silently, showing no particular reaction, just coldly watching those clueless hooligans who had gotten themselves involved with this guy, where a ten-year stint wouldn’t be considered unjust.

And that’s without Nathalie Quinlan being hurt. If Nathalie had been injured, well, these guys wishing for just ten years would be dreaming!

*

Outside the police station in the black Phaeton, Audrick Zachmann was also asking this question.

"Nathalie, how did you provoke those people? What’s their background? I heard they came straight at you from the van, immediately looking to teach you a lesson. There’s definitely something fishy here! They must have been instigated by someone; otherwise, they wouldn’t target you."

Nathalie Quinlan slowly took out a phone she had found, holding it down and fiddling with it; this was the one she took from Jack.

The phone had a fingerprint lock.

In someone else’s hands, a phone with a password lock wouldn’t be easy to deal with, but in Nathalie’s eyes, such a security system was just trash.

She unlocked the phone in the blink of an eye, opened to the call history and text messages, both empty.

It was clear that the previous owner had already deleted all call logs.

With a cold sharpness in her eyes, Nathalie smiled slightly, her look casual and wild. It was unclear what method she used, but in just a few moments, a Beijing phone number appeared in the call history.

She casually checked the number, then looked up and answered Audrick’s question: "Phoebe Hoffman."