Chapter 73: Post-inquiry
He had just taken a shower and been sitting on the sofa for ten minutes when the doorbell rang.
When William opened the door, he saw the hotel manager standing there with several police officers, their hands resting near their weapons.
"Yes," William nodded.
The officer in the lead presented his identification. "Mr. William Devinshire, we're with the Black Mountain Police. My name is Deltoro, and these are my credentials."
The police officers must have already spoken with hotel security and had some idea of what had happened because they were being very polite to William. No one had their guns drawn.
William took the officer's credentials and examined them before looking back at the man who had introduced himself. "I'll need to wait for my lawyer and representatives from the English Foreign Affairs Office. As the victim, I will only answer your inquiries in their presence. Perhaps we can all come inside, have a drink, and wait together?"
The lead officer, Deltoro, considered this for a moment. He had indeed spoken to the hotel security downstairs and knew that the day's chaos was centered entirely on William. He nodded politely. "Alright, Mr. Devinshire. We can wait for your legal and diplomatic representatives."
William gestured for the officers to come inside. As soon as they entered, their eyes fell on the Glock 17 and loose bullets lying on a table, and they immediately tensed.
William turned to the hotel manager. "Please pour the officers some drinks, thank you."
"Of course, Mr. Devinshire." The hotel manager moved toward the room's bar and began asking the officers what they would like to drink.
William noticed the officers' tension as they stared at the gun on the table; the hands of two of them had drifted to their hips. "Don't be nervous, gentlemen," William said calmly. "There are no bullets in the gun."
Deltoro stepped forward to examine the Glock 17 on the desk, but William quickly advised, "Officer Deltoro, I think you'd better use gloves."
"Right. Thank you, Mr. Devinshire," Deltoro nodded, his mind racing. He might have appeared calm, but in reality, he was terrified. The scenes he had witnessed in the streets and inside the hotel were horrifying.
The streets were littered with corpses. The twelve bodies in the hotel lobby and the second-floor restaurant had all been killed by headshots. There were another six bodies along the side wall of the hotel.
Deltoro hadn't seen so many dead bodies in his entire career as a police officer. And according to hotel security, all of them had been killed by this seemingly gentle and amiable young man in front of him.
Deltoro silently swore that if the Police Chief hadn't personally ordered him to question William, he would never have come up here.
Just looking at him, he felt his heart nearly stop.
A report coming over Deltoro's walkie-talkie made the situation seem even more grave. Deltoro felt as though he were facing Satan himself.
"*Static*... Sheriff, Sheriff, please respond. Over."
"This is Deltoro. Go ahead," Deltoro replied into his walkie-talkie.
"Chief, I think we need to notify the Foreign Affairs Department and the Special Affairs Department. We've found identification and passports on some of the bodies. Also, Sheriff, we need backup. There are too many dead; we're completely overwhelmed."
"There are eight men in our team. The gunfight is over, isn't it? Why do you need backup? Exactly how many are dead?" Deltoro demanded. This was the question he most wanted answered.
"We've confirmed forty dead. A couple of guys on the street opposite were lucky; they were shot multiple times but are still alive, just unconscious. We need that backup, Sheriff. The rookies are already vomiting," the officer on the radio complained.
But Deltoro had no time to worry about his men. He was stunned by the number. When he first arrived, he'd thought there were only twenty or so victims.
But now... forty men, all dead. All killed by the young man in front of him, who was now calmly sipping whiskey. Forty mercenaries armed with AKs... Was this real, or was he dreaming?
"Hey, hey, Sheriff, are you still listening?"
Deltoro wiped the sweat from his face and spoke into the radio. "I understand. Hunter, get all nearby units to the hotel. Call in everyone on leave. We need all the support we can get."
After clicking off his radio, Deltoro looked at the Glock 17 on the table, then carefully back at William. "Mr. Devinshire, may I ask where your other weapons are?"
"Let's wait for the representatives from the Foreign Affairs Office," William said. "I won't be answering any questions until they arrive. And I suggest you don't concern yourself with it. Someone else will handle this."
Deltoro was helpless. He didn't dare to offend the man who had just single-handedly killed forty people. He would have to wait. After all, even if he took William to the police station, he would still have to wait for the Foreign Affairs Office to arrive.
After a fifteen-minute wait, the lawyer and the representatives from the Foreign Affairs Office arrived. One of the officials greeted William and said,
"Mr. Devinshire, you can come with us to the consulate. We will handle everything else. We've just received instructions from London; our primary concern is ensuring your safety."
Deltoro overheard this and interjected, "Not yet. We have questions for Mr. Devinshire. He can't leave." Deltoro knew that if William went to the consulate, they would never get the chance to question him.
The lawyer from the Foreign Affairs Office stepped forward. "Officer, you can direct your questions to me. Mr. William Devinshire is an English citizen with a special diplomatic status authorized by our government. You have no right to detain him. If you have further questions, you can take them up with your own foreign affairs department."
Deltoro knew he was out of his depth as soon as diplomacy was mentioned. He sighed in resignation. "Fine. Even if I can't hold Mr. Devinshire, I need him to hand over the weapons he used today. That is standard procedure."
"I have the right to demand that Mr. Devinshire cooperate and surrender the weapons. He does not have a license to carry firearms in Black Mountain. And frankly, I think it would be best if Mr. Devinshire did not carry any more weapons while he is here."
Deltoro was terrified at the thought of William holding a weapon again. He secretly wished he could just drive the man out of Black Mountain and pray he never returned.
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