Chapter 170 Murderer_2
Luke's total assets now amounted to around 460,000 US dollars.
This included 196,000 dollars in system reserve funds, 35,000 dollars in stocks, and 230,000 in cash.
That's about 3 million RMB in cash.
Luke was somewhat inflated with pride.
Man, I'm rich now.
Once the 'Holy Blood' case is cracked, Luke definitely will have a good splurge.
...
The next morning.
Luke arrived at the Detective Bureau and made a trip to the technical department to inquire about the progress of the blood DNA comparison.
Unfortunately, the fresh blood gathered outside the farm still had not been successfully matched.
With no progress on the case, just waiting around wasn't an option.
Luke turned his attention to Marcus.
"Marcus, what do you think about this?"
Marcus spread his hands, "What can I do? I'm not a vampire, I can't discern the identity of the blood's owner."
Luke said, "Well, I have an idea, but whether it can be done depends on you."
"What's the idea?"
"Blood Man Garcia."
Marcus was still puzzled, "What about him? Even though he deals with blood on a regular basis, he can't tell whose blood it is."
Luke explained, "Based on my estimate, the owner of the fresh blood found outside the farm was likely shot.
If we assume this suspect is Darcy's killer, then he definitely wouldn't dare go to a regular hospital for treatment because he couldn't explain how he got hurt.
But having been shot, he couldn't just not get treated.
The most likely scenario is that he went to a 'black clinic' to treat the gunshot wound, and during treatment, he would certainly need a blood transfusion.
Human blood types are divided into A, B, O, and AB.
Since the suspect's blood is type B, if the clinic didn't have it in stock, they would definitely go out to buy B-type plasma.
Even if they had stock, they would refill it after use.
Thus, I estimate that the black clinic that treated the suspect's gunshot wound is very likely to purchase B-type fresh blood within these next few days, and Garcia might get wind of something."
Marcus nodded after hearing this, "Not a bad idea.
But, I remember that B-type can also receive O-type blood, right?"
Luke replied, "In an emergency, yes, but usually they would transfuse the same type of blood.
Especially during surgery, transfusing the wrong type of blood could cause the victim to die."
Marcus said, "I understand. I'll get in touch with Garcia and ask him to help find out if there's been any recent purchasing of B-type blood by black clinics."
Luke cautioned, "After finding out, don't alert them; after all, this is different from the last time. It's just my speculation, and we don't have any evidence."
"Don't worry, leave it to me. Marcus the Second won't disappoint you."
...
After eight in the evening.
Cam Street, Wilkes Clinic.
The clinic was located in a somewhat remote area and wasn't very large. Although there weren't many clients, the advantage was that rent would be relatively low.
A black man with a gold chain ran into the clinic and shouted at the black female nurse at the reception, "Hey, my brother's hurt, can you treat a gunshot wound?"
The nurse eyed the black man in front of her and stepped back, "Sir, we're a small clinic, you should go to another hospital for gunshot wounds."
The black man pleaded urgently, "I was referred here by someone I know, my brother's been shot, and he can't go to a hospital; you're the only ones who can save him."
The nurse asked quietly, "Sir, why can't your friend get treated at a hospital?"
The black man took off his gold ring and handed it to the nurse, "That's the reason. Can you help me? If we wait any longer, my brother's not going to make it."
The nurse weighed the gold ring in her hand, tempted, "Give me a moment."
Then, the nurse went to the innermost consultation room.
When she emerged, she beckoned the man with the gold chain and whispered, "I've spoken to the doctor. You should talk to him personally; I've done all I can help."
"Thank you." The man with the gold chain responded and quickly entered the consultation room.
In the room, a middle-aged white male doctor in a white coat sat behind an office desk looking the visitor over.
The man with the gold chain said, "Doctor, I need you to come with me."
The doctor in the white coat refused, "What nonsense are you talking? I am not leaving my clinic."
The black man said, "My friend has a gunshot wound, and he needs treatment now."
The white doctor, "I only treat patients within my clinic. Even if I went with you, without the necessary equipment and medication, it wouldn't be possible to treat him."
The black man asked, "So what do we do? Should I bring him here?"
The white doctor inquired nonchalantly, "How did your friend get hurt?"
"He's got a gunshot wound."
"Which part of the body was hit, what type of gun, and how far away was it?"
"He was shot in the shoulder, by a handgun from about a dozen meters away. He's lost a lot of blood and needs immediate treatment."
"What's his blood type?"
"I think it's A-type."
The white doctor inquired, "If your friend's injury is that severe, why doesn't he go to a hospital for treatment?"
The black man shook his head, "He can't go to a hospital."
"Why not?"
"Because the hospital will call the police, and my friend doesn't want the cops to find out about this."
The white doctor showed a troubled expression, "If that's the case, I'm afraid it's going to be difficult."
The black man challenged, "What do you mean? Can't you treat it?"
The white doctor hinted, "No, of course, I can treat him. Just a couple days ago, I treated a man who was shot in the arm. Treating him is not the issue."