Desperate Lovers novel Chapter 136

After James hung up the phone, he intended to drive to the cafe. As soon as he got in the car, he remembered that his driver's license had been suspended by the traffic police.

He frowned and called the driver over.

"Sir, that's the fastest I can drive. If I go any faster, I'll have to lose my driving license!"

After ten minutes on the road, the driver didn't know how many times he’d been rushed.

James frowned faintly, raising his wrist again to look at his watch, his thin lips pursed tightly.

Fifteen minutes later, the car arrived in front of the cafe.

James got out of the car and walked towards the cafe. His steps were much faster than usual, the driver following behind him.

"You wait in the car." James stopped and said to the driver.

The driver went back to the car, puzzled in his mind.

In the past, he could follow whatever James talked about, so why did he stop him today instead?

Did James want to talk about something dark?

James entered the cafe and walked straight towards the middle-aged man in the corner wearing a baseball cap under the gaze of the waitress.

"Where's the stuff?" James asked as he walked up to the man.

Martin pointed to the seat opposite, "Don't be in such a hurry, James. Sit down and talk, as things are a bit complicated."

James minced his lips and sat down, facing behind him.

"You care a lot about this car accident?"

Martin smiled and gave him a file bag.

James took the file bag and was about to open it when the waitress came over. She looked at him with a smile and asked.

"Can I get you something to drink, sir?"

“A cappuccino with extra sugar!" Martin said.

The waiter said okay and then asked James, "How about you, sir? What would you like to drink?"

"A latte."

James stopped opening the file bag and added, "Please hurry up, thanks."

The waitress said yes and quickly came over with a cappuccino and latte, and put them on the table without leaving.

James's brow had been tinted with impatience and his previous unobtrusive, in front of this file containing the clues of the car accident was swept away, "What's wrong?"

"Sir, can......" The waitress, with a peachy face, gathered her courage and said.

"Can I have your Twitter?"

James didn't even hesitate for half a second, "No."

The waitress wanted to say something else, but James went ahead,

"We have important things to talk about, thanks."

"...... okay." The waitress left fondly.

Martin smashed his mouth. The waitress was pretty, but she just couldn’t read cues at all!

James pushed the latte aside before opening the file bag. He pulled out the contents.

"Why do you order coffee if you don't want to drink?" Martin took a sip of his cappuccino and squinted in happiness.

"If I don't order one, the waitress will keep coming over and interfering with our conversation."

James looked through the sheets of paper and some other things contained in the file bag. His face changed, "What's wrong?"

Martin put down his cappuccino, the smile on his face vanishing into nothing, all turning into chagrin and resignation,

"I met my match this time!" He sighed and said.

"Let me start by telling you my guess. I suspect the red sports car that Angela drove two years ago is not her car."

"It's hers." James frowned faintly, untied a knot, and said.

"The model and plate number, even the scratch on the left door all match."

Two days before the birthday, Angela’s car scuffed. Paint needs to be imported from abroad, so the car scratches to the day of the accident had not been dealt with.

Martin picked up his cappuccino and took a sip, "James, take it easy, listen to me."

"OK." James rested his right hand on the table, tapping it once or twice.

Martin wiped the corner of his mouth with his hand, put his arms on the table, and leaned his body slightly forward, "I found traces of the license plate being moved by someone, but without fingerprints on it. At first, I assumed the sports car was not Angela's, but someone else substituted her car with an identical sports car, and then switched her license plate to this later sports car."

"I followed that stream of thoughts and checked a lot of surveillance videos, but I didn't see anyone switch the cars.

But I later found out that when Angela went to get her nails done on September 24th, her car was parked in a blind spot. And a strangely dressed man had appeared near the nail salon that day and followed Angela for some time."

"I found this man later, but unfortunately, he had terminal lung cancer two years ago. By the time I found him, he had just passed away."

Speaking of which, Martin sighed heavily, regretfully.

"Such a coincidence?"

James tapped the table a little faster, his brows furrowing slightly, "He died just for his cancer?"

Martin shook his head, unable to hide his disappointment between his words, "Yes, the doctor said he could last at most until last year, and it turned out to be a miracle that he lasted until I went to him recently."

“He lived alone and I couldn't ask anything about him from anyone else. But I asked a friend at the bank to check, and found that he received a transfer of half a million dollars two years ago.

It's nothing to you, but to a common man like him, it's a lot of money."

James never thought he'd have a moment in impulse. He picked up his latte and took a sip, not in the mood to listen to Martin talk about the investigation, and asked straightforwardly.

"If it's true that Angela's car was changed, does that mean she's not guilty?"

"No."

Martin felt a toothache, "Let me be honest with you. If Jessica had played some tricks behind, then she must have started preparing for it long ago."

"The brakes on the car were damaged by aging, but it's not appropriate to say that. Someone must have been driving regularly and deliberately with that particular brake-harming driving style, so the brakes were damaged in that way."

"Even if it could be proven that the car had been substituted, there's no way to prove that someone tried to harm Angela by damaging the brakes. After all, it is damaged by aging."

"Actually, it's useless to talk so much!"

Marin, with a headache, tapped his head and said.

"To tell you the truth, it's the recording that's the trickiest."

"There was a problem with the car's brake, and if we can prove that the recording was fake, we can say that the crash was an accident.

But if we can't prove that the recording was fake, the crash will be determined as premeditated murder. And the brake failure caused the accident."

Martin picked up his cappuccino and took a few sips, muttering.

"I'm getting to be a tongue twister!"

Silence.

James's gaze at him was like piercing nails, the coldness in his dark eyes freezing into ice, "You're saying all this to cover up the fact that you didn't find out any useful clues?"

“Hah!” Martin took a few more sips from his cappuccino and smiled sarcastically, "You can't say that. Just the car substitution, it took me almost a year to guess, and another half a year to find the man, and that's almost two years of work."