The queen's wife is too sultry

High-end apartment buildings in the affluent district of New York.

Maserati quietly parked among the luxury cars.

Gu Zheng and Lu Qing went upstairs according to the address given by Anna. After reaching the target floor, they came to a door.

Lu Qing carefully compared the information on the phone with the house number, and nodded: "You can't be wrong, this is it."

Just as Gu Zheng was about to knock on the door, a door next to it suddenly opened, and a thin, blond, white young woman came out. When she saw the two, her eyes were full of surprise, and she took the initiative to strike up a conversation and said:
"Hello, are you here to see Mr. Sutter?"

Lu Qing and Gu Zheng looked at each other, then nodded: "Yes, do you know him?"

The woman smiled and said, "Yes, he just moved to this apartment not long ago. I'm his neighbor. Hello, my name is Mary."

Gu Zheng nodded slightly, and said lightly: "Hello."

The woman glanced at the house number, "Are you friends of Mr. Sartre?"

Lu Qing said without changing his face: "Yes, we are his colleagues and we have something to do with him."

"Oh, that's it." The woman nodded, pointing to the garbage in her hand, "Then I won't bother the two handsome guys."

After that, she took the trash and left.

It wasn't until her figure disappeared from sight that Gu Zheng looked back and pressed the doorbell.

Soon, a deep and hoarse male voice sounded through the door: "Who is it?"

The two remained silent in a tacit understanding, and Lu Qing continued to ring the doorbell.

"Who is it!" The male voice became a little impatient.

After a while, the door was opened with a "swish", and a gust of wind swept past the two of them. A middle-aged black man's face appeared in front of the two of them.

According to Anna, Sartre is a black man of mixed ancestry. Like most blacks, he was born tall and tall, but unlike other blacks who are lazy and dull, Sartre relies on his talent and hard work, He was admitted to a top medical school, and later studied for a Ph.D. After graduation, he successfully got an offer from Mayo Clinic and worked for Dawson Group. So far, he has worked in Mayo Clinic for nearly seven years.

Just like what Anna said, Sartre is tall and tall, with thick and lush eyebrows like a beard, and his eyes reveal impatience and fierceness, like a lonely hyena, but always thinks of himself as aloof, making people feel unapproachable at first sight .

Until the moment he saw Sartre himself, Lu Qing finally felt that Anna's description was very accurate.

Gu Zheng spoke first, "Mr. Sutter, I am a shareholder of Mayo Clinic and the president of Zhongchen Group. I want to talk to you about something."

There were two strangers standing at the door of his house, and Sartre was naturally not in a good mood. He held the door with one hand, looked the two up and down, and snorted twice impatiently with his wide nostrils:
"You say yes? Why should I believe you?"

Lu Qing squinted his eyes, and was about to say something when a hand stopped him.

Gu Zheng looked at him firmly, and said in a low voice: "You worked for Arthur Dawson before, and he asked you to kill someone, am I right?"

Sartre's face changed suddenly, and he was about to close the door immediately, but was stopped by Lu Qing.

Lu Qing sneered, "Why are you so anxious to close the door before you finish speaking? Gu Zheng, keep talking."

"Mr. Sutter, Arthur is my uncle. I want to talk to you about Wilson and the medicine."

Sartre tried hard to close the door, but found that Lu Qing was so strong that the door was pushed against him, and he couldn't close it no matter what.

The two confronted each other for a while, Sartre met Gu's indifferent blue eyes, felt a sense of oppression, and finally gave up resisting in desperation:
"come in."

"Mr. Sutter, you live here quite well."

Lu Qing looked around the whole house like a visitor.

The apartment has three floors, and the decoration style is extremely luxurious. Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, you can see the most prosperous financial district in New York. The furniture and greenery in the house have everything you need, but many things have not been opened, and there is little smell of fireworks, which is just right for the white woman. Say, Sartre just moved in.

To be able to live in such a mansion, Sartre's class is already in the middle or upper class.

Compared with Lu Qing's casualness, Sartre was particularly nervous, although he tried his best to make himself look less nervous.

"Sit down, what would you like to drink?"

Gu Zheng picked a sofa and sat down, and said calmly, "No, we'll leave after we finish asking."

Sartre sat across from him, squinting his eyes at the two uninvited guests.

"Are you Arthur's nephew?"

Gu Zheng nodded.

"Mr. Sutter, time is limited. Let's cut a long story short. I know that my uncle paid you to kill Wilson for him as a partner of the Mayo Clinic."

Sartre smiled, "Sir, you have to give evidence when you say something, otherwise I can sue you for defamation."

"Evidence?" Lu Qing smiled playfully, threw the phone to Sartre, and said, "Open your eyes and see for yourself, what is this?"

Sartre took the phone and looked down for less than ten seconds, his face immediately became extremely ugly as if he had eaten a fly.

What the video showed was nothing else but the process of him sneaking into the laboratory, stealing a bottle of reagents and then leaving secretly.

The video lasted less than 5 minutes, but it caused Sartre to fall from heaven to hell in an instant. The chill that penetrated the bone marrow surrounded him. He seemed to be frozen, and he was so stiff that he couldn't speak.

"how come."

"I'm sorry, people are so unlucky sometimes, do you think no one can find out if you tamper with the monitoring?"

Lu Qing crossed his legs and said leisurely: "This video, if you need it, I can give you a copy. You can take it to the prison and watch it slowly."

Hearing "Prison", Sartre's originally dark face turned pale for an instant. He looked at Gu Zheng in fear, clenched his trouser legs with both hands, and said with trembling lips:
"It's not that I'm Mr. Arthur, he ordered me"