In the city, where are the fewest people at night? Many might think of parks, but for New York, the answer is probably the cemetery districts.

Jimmy and Allison's surveillance van followed the taxi to Glendale in Queens, which was very close to the cemeteries. If Jimmy had a choice, he definitely wouldn't want to live next to a graveyard, but it seems that in the United States, many people don't mind; at least the housing prices here aren't much lower than those next door.

The taxi stopped, and the person they were following got out but didn't enter the nearby building, instead continuing on the sidewalk. Jimmy and his team could no longer follow by car, so they chose to get out and continue on foot.

After Allison got out of the vehicle, she walked side by side with Jimmy. Walking this way—as a pair—looked more normal than one behind the other. Tailgating is actually quite difficult, requiring one to maintain a distance, keep the target in sight, and act naturally so as not to alert the person in front if they suddenly turn around—these are skills that can only be mastered through training.

Allison was a veteran surveillance officer, quite familiar with tailing, while Jimmy had learned it at the FBI academy and performed very well. What was more, when it came to situations like turning a corner or the subject suddenly entering a building, he didn't need to run and prevent a loss of sight like other surveillance agents; he appeared as a normal passerby.

The person in front looked around as he walked and suddenly turned into an alley. Allison was about to speed up to follow him when Jimmy extended his hand to stop her, "Don't rush." Jimmy had already noticed that after entering the alley, the man didn't continue inward but stopped at the mouth of the alley.

After waiting a bit, the man came out of the alley and looked around. On the sidewalk, only Jimmy and Allison were present, and they didn't exhibit anything unusual; only then did he feel confident that he wasn't being followed. After Jimmy and Allison had walked past him, he turned and headed into the alley.

After walking forward about ten meters, Jimmy turned back and stealthily made his way to the alley entrance to look inside. Before he could fully make out everything in the alley, the shrill sound of two muffled gunshots, "bang bang," rang out, and he quickly ran towards them. Not far from a trash can, there was a shed, and the man who had just entered was now bending down to go inside.

"FBI, don't move!" yelled Jimmy as he drew his gun. Allison, who had followed him into the alley, had already stopped and squatted against the wall, minimizing her exposure—an action that clearly came from experience.

"FBI, don't move, drop your weapon and come out slowly," Jimmy commanded while advancing and aiming; the man's upper body was already inside the shed, and most people wouldn't be able to see his arms. Normally, you would shout instructions and then take cover while aiming, waiting for him to come out before approaching, but Jimmy didn't have this problem.

Keeping a steady eye on the arms inside the tent, the man hesitated for a moment, bent over, before finally deciding to surrender, "Don't shoot, I'm coming out."

Jimmy did not relax, because he saw that the man had not yet dropped the gun in his hand, which was very long, likely due to the silencer.

The dimly lit alley had no proper lighting, only the moonlight's diffuse reflection and the scattering of not so bright streetlights provided sufficient illumination to discern a human shape, but not to make out faces.

The gunman slowly backed out, standing up and turning towards Jimmy. When he realized that Jimmy was alone in the alley, he seemingly thought he still had a chance and abruptly raised his gun to aim at Jimmy.

Jimmy, who had kept a watchful eye on him, immediately fired upon seeing the motion and moved to the side to avoid the gunman's line of fire. "Bang!" The gunman fired only once before Jimmy took him down with two shots—one in the right shoulder and one in the abdomen. Of course, Jimmy didn't aim directly at his head because the gunman was someone Jimmy had been chasing for so long; killing him outright would indeed avenge Seventeen, but would complicate a few of the previous cases due to the lack of testimony, making closure troublesome.

The handgun fell to the ground. Although the gunman didn't collapse, he reflexively grabbed his right shoulder with his unharmed left hand, breaking into a loud shout of agony, "Ahh~~~."

"Don't move," Jimmy commanded again, and this time he didn't rush to handcuff him; Allison was watching him from behind. Jimmy gave instructions to the gunman while carefully aiming his gun as he approached.

"Allison, come help me," Jimmy called as he grabbed the gunman's hands and twisted them behind his back. Allison ran over and took out handcuffs from Jimmy's belt to secure him. Only then did Jimmy completely free his hands to pull out disposable gloves from his pocket and perform a thorough search on the gunman.

There weren't many dangerous items on the gunman; just a spare magazine, which was indeed full of bullets, and a small switchblade in his trouser pocket with a blade slightly over 10 cm, but this too was illegal.

The rest included a cellphone, a wallet, a bunch of keys, and some coins—all of which Jimmy searched and placed on the ground. Due to the special circumstances and lack of alternatives, this temporary arrangement would have to do; no bags to store them were available.

The van wasn't nearby, and without an emergency kit at hand, Jimmy could only ask the wounded gunman to sit on the ground beside him while Allison watched over him.

Jimmy had Allison contact the surveillance van to come over and call for an ambulance. Then he approached the shed, gently opened the door curtain, and inside, a homeless man was lying on the floor. Jimmy didn't continue to check because the sound of sirens and flashing police lights came from the mouth of the alley.

"NYPD, don't move!" Two police officers stood at the entrance of the alley with their guns raised and their flashlights shining into it.

"FBI, don't shoot. FBI," Jimmy shouted twice, and only then did the officers enter the alley.

After going through the standard procedure, checking IDs, and understanding what had happened, the NYPD officers informed the dispatch center and arranged for two more law enforcement units to come and cordon off the alley, preventing others from coming through.

Jimmy then called the FBI's forensic team. Although it was the middle of the night, there were still on-duty personnel who could come to assist, albeit not many, just one person.

Jimmy looked at the dead drifter and couldn't help but laugh wryly. He was intending to solve a case involving the murder of a taxi driver, but now it seemed he had targeted the wrong victim—the case of Chuck's slain drifter seemed to have been inadvertently solved by him.

Checking the time, he saw it was already past 1 a.m. Jimmy thought it over and decided he couldn't let Chuck rest too easily while he himself was so busy. He took out his phone and dialed Chuck's number directly.

After about ten seconds of ringing, Chuck answered the phone, "Jimmy, what's up?"

He sounded surprisingly unangered, Jimmy realized his ploy had failed. It seemed Chuck had a strong tolerance, not getting upset even when awakened in the middle of the night.

Jimmy said, "There's been some progress in your case—the one with the drifter."

Chuck asked, "What about it?"

Jimmy replied, "I just caught a gunman who had just shot a drifter, and he's on his way to the hospital for emergency care with the NYPD."

Chuck queried, "Anything else?"

Jimmy added, "That's it. I just wanted to let you know. I'll interrogate this guy, and if he's indeed connected to those two cases of yours, you can join in later or even take over the cases entirely."

Chuck acknowledged, "Got it," and hung up. Okay, thought Jimmy, chuckling to himself, perhaps Chuck was a bit grumpy after all. He was still waiting at the crime scene for the forensics team to arrive, and it looked like he wouldn't be getting any sleep that night.

Once the forensics team finished examining the scene and all the evidence had been collected and cataloged, Allison and the others along with the forensic team returned to the station, while Jimmy headed straight to the hospital. The gunman had been shot twice, resulting in excessive blood loss, but his injuries weren't fatal. After confirming with the doctor that the surgery had been completed and the gunman was still unconscious under the effect of anesthetics, Jimmy saw no opportunity for even a basic interrogation.

In the morning, the gunman finally woke up. After the nurse called the doctor on duty, who examined him and assured Jimmy there were no issues, the doctor and nurse left. Jimmy then approached the gunman's bedside.

Jimmy announced, "Dave Frank? You're under arrest," and read him the Miranda rights. Dave immediately refused to answer Jimmy's questions, insisting on having an attorney present, otherwise he wouldn't respond to any inquiries.

Ah, the curse of television and movies—all these damned suspects know exactly what to do when they get arrested.

Without anything more to say, he had to wait for the lawyer. Also, conducting a simple interrogation in the hospital room with a lawyer present was out of the question—he would have to take the suspect back to the station.

This case was different from the previous bombing incident, which was a terrorist attack that allowed many procedures and steps to be skipped without much trouble. This time it was a homicide, a regular law enforcement issue, even if it involved a serial killer, it was still just a murder case.

After contacting Chuck again, Jimmy discussed borrowing two NYPD officers to guard the suspect at the station. Only after they arrived did Jimmy leave the hospital and return to the FBI office at Federal Square.

Jimmy said to Hughes, "I caught a murderer last night. He shot a drifter, and I wounded him. He's now in the hospital."

Hughes asked, "Is it related to the taxi driver case?"

Jimmy nodded, "Very likely. I identified him based on the suspect profile from that case and tracked a potential target through surveillance. But I'm not so certain now because the NYPD has had two cases of drifters being shot previously, similar to last night's incident. Although it's not certain whether they were committed by the same person, there might be some connection, or it could be a copycat."

"Now there's a tricky situation; the suspect has demanded legal counsel before answering any questions, and I don't even have his address yet to conduct a search or obtain a search warrant."

Hughes asked, "What do you need me to do?"

Jimmy replied, "I plan to have someone ask around his apartment building to find out which unit he's in, then apply for a search warrant. However, without any testimony from the suspect, the judge might not sign off on it. There's no record of his Bronx apartment address in his file."

After thinking for a moment, Hughes said, "First, try to get him to admit where he lives. I'll find a way to handle the search warrant."

Jimmy nodded and turned to leave.

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