Zane nodded and summoned a young officer, instructing him to purchase food, thoughtfully inquiring about any dietary restrictions.
In the interrogation room, Zane and two seasoned officers sat across from Yvette. The surveillance camera was already rolling. Zane exchanged a look with his colleagues; they understood. They had witnessed Zane's treatment of her, recognizing her as no ordinary suspect. The incident at Skyline Plaza—where she allegedly brandished and fired a gun, attempting to kill a pregnant woman now hospitalized—was a serious matter, even with connections.
The square-faced officer, Norbert, about thirty, was unusually polite, forgoing his typical approach. "Please tell us the truth," he asked. "Did you openly carry and fire a gun at Skyline Plaza? You attempted to murder a pregnant woman who is now hospitalized; her family is en route."
Zane feigned a cough, covering his mouth with a fist. Norbert flinched, his face tightening. "What did I say wrong? Could this affect my career?"
Yvette sat languidly, her fingers tapping lightly on the table. Her exquisite features, even in the dim light, were undeniably beautiful, though her eyes were cold and half-lidded. "Yes, I fired the gun," she said nonchalantly.
Zane, out of the camera's view, anxiously glanced at his watch. Why hasn't Mr. Chavez arrived yet? How can Yvette just admit to it? If she denies it, maybe we can find a way out.
"Yvette," Zane said, "do you understand the seriousness of openly carrying and firing a gun in public? Think carefully before you speak. Is there something else going on? You need to tell us the truth." He subtly, urgently signaled her with his eyes.
Yvette's eyes darkened. "Carrying a gun? Breaking the law?"
Zane nodded. "Yes, Yvette. Admitting to carrying a gun and shooting someone is a very serious matter."
A faint, almost mocking smile touched Yvette's lips. Her expression was indifferent, her beautiful features set in a thin, cold smile. "It's not illegal. I have a legal permit for my gun. Even if I shot Winona today, it would be legal."
The officers exchanged glances, wiping sweat from their brows. No wonder Mr. Chappell is protecting her. She’s saying such outrageous things! Carrying a gun isn’t illegal? Killing isn’t illegal? Where did this lawless daredevil come from? Norbert felt unable to continue; he didn't know how to respond. Silence fell.
After a moment, the older officer, late thirties, carefully chose his words. Staring at Yvette, he asked, "You're saying carrying a gun isn't illegal? That's impossible in Clusia. Gun possession is strictly prohibited. You must know that, right? Please explain the entire situation from the beginning."
Zane quickly added, "You also have the right to remain silent until your lawyer arrives. Do you understand?"
Yvette nodded slightly and produced a black ID booklet from her pocket, placing it on the table. The officers were puzzled.
Norbert, closest to the ID, picked it up. His face froze as he read it, and he looked at Zane with shock and disbelief. The other officer, witnessing his colleague's reaction, quickly examined the ID. Both officers displayed identical expressions of shock, turning to Zane. Zane, unable to remain seated, wondered what kind of ID could elicit such a reaction.
Upon examining the ID, Zane froze. All three officers stared at Yvette, their disbelief almost comical. Yvette remained composed, her hands resting calmly. She seemed oblivious to the impact of her ID.
It took Zane several minutes to speak. He stammered, "Ms. Zeller, is this a real ID? Did you…?" I can't bring myself to say the rest. I'd rather believe it's fake than real. This world is getting too crazy! he thought.
Yvette's tapping ceased. Her gaze lifted, her voice low and cool, nonchalant. "It has a serial number," she said succinctly.
Zane saw the long serial number. He knew these were unique and unfakeable. Is she really letting me verify it? Even if I find it hard to believe, I have to admit it seems real. His hand trembled as he held the ID, aware of its significance. If genuine, not only could Yvette fire a gun in public, but she could even kill someone and claim it was legal. It was like having an ancient imperial sword and a get-out-of-jail-free card combined.
The other officers remained shocked. Zane knew he couldn't waste time. He needed to verify the ID's authenticity. If real, today's incident would be trivial. He would respectfully escort her out. And who would question the actions of that organization?
In the speeding black Jeep, Jeremiah's lips were pressed into a cold line, his face filled with anger. The icy aura lowered the car's temperature. The Jeep exceeded 150 miles per hour. Andrew, clutching his seatbelt, said cautiously, "Jeremiah, Yvette will be fine. Zane knows her identity; he'll take good care of her."
Jeremiah's expression grew colder. Why would Yvette be so angry that she would shoot? That's the real question, not whether Zane would make things difficult for her.
Andrew shrank back. This is definitely a case of Jeremiah flying into a rage for a woman. Zane's account of Yvette firing a gun and frightening a pregnant woman seemed far-fetched. If not for the pregnant woman's name, Andrew would have doubted the story.
If it was Winona, then it makes sense. That little schemer must have done something to make Yvette so angry that she had to shoot. Andrew wasn't surprised Yvette had a gun.
At the police station entrance, Robert and Victor, in formal suits, stormed in. Some officers recognized Robert, a frequent visitor during Jonathan's tenure as Chief.