Late at night.

The sky was overcast, blocking out the moon and stars, leaving no trace of light.

The cemetery was in total darkness, occasionally interrupted by the chirps of birds and meows of cats, adding to the eerie atmosphere.

A streetcar slowly approached, its headlights not very bright, only illuminating the road ahead.

The streetcar stopped next to a newly dug grave, and Tom Stone stepped off, looking around cautiously.

In vain; it was completely dark, and he couldn't see anything clearly.

Tom Stone turned on his flashlight and scanned the surroundings again. Seeing nothing unusual, he took a deep breath and boldly walked to the freshly dug grave.

He gazed at the grave with a sigh, appearing somewhat agitated.

Five boxes were loaded at the back of the streetcar. Tom Stone struggled to unload them; they were heavy, and each had been waterproofed and moisture-proofed.

Fortunately, he went to the gym three times a week and was much stronger than his peers.

"Rustle..."

There was a sudden noise from nearby.

Startled, Tom Stone's hair stood on end. "Who's there?"

With a "click," several strong flashlights were turned on, making the surroundings brightly lit.

Tom Stone, unable to adjust immediately, shielded his eyes with his hand, then recognized the newcomer, "Captain Lee, what are you doing here?"

Earlier this evening, Luke met Tom Stone at the cemetery to talk about the Getty Museum oil painting robbery case and about his father's hiring of a detective.

Luke noticed Tom Stone's unusual demeanor, felt suspicious, and had someone keep an eye on Tom Stone.

At 7 PM, Tom Stone left the cemetery and returned to the Stone family villa.

At 11 PM, Tom Stone drove away from the villa, returning to the cemetery.

Running back to the cemetery late at night, it's either haunted or he's haunted by his own demons, and indeed, this is the scene that unfolded.

"Mr. Tom Stone, what are you doing here so late instead of being asleep?"

"My father is to be buried in the morning; I was a bit uneasy and came to check things out."

Luke patted the large boxes on the streetcar, "I doubt you're just here to check. What's inside?"

"Things my father often used; he asked me to bury them with him before he passed. I don't know what they are; I'm just fulfilling his last wishes."

"Can I take a look?"

"That would be disrespectful to my father."

"Your father has already passed away, and now you're in charge of these boxes. I think you can decide for him."

"I refuse."

"That's the wrong answer. I suggest you let me take a look."

Tom Stone took a step back, "Are you forcing me?"

"No, it's just a suggestion."

"Do you have a search warrant?"

"No." After talking with Tom Stone in the afternoon, Luke suspected he was lying but wasn't sure what he might do, so he couldn't apply for a search warrant in advance.

"Then I refuse." Tom Stone breathed a sigh of relief.

Luke nodded, "Wise choice. If stolen goods were found in the boxes, it would be quite troublesome."

Tom Stone's expression turned serious, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Luke pointed at the boxes, "Five boxes, each with two paintings, making ten paintings, exactly the number stolen from the Getty Museum."

"Hey, don't talk nonsense. I can call a team of lawyers with one phone call."

"One call from me and I can apply for a search warrant. Plus, the Robbery and Murder Department is always a media darling. Any action from us, and reporters swarm like vultures in Africa.

Mr. Tom Stone, you're about to become famous." Luke shook his phone, "Let's see who makes their call first."

Tom Stone, teeth chattering with anger, looked at Luke, then at the boxes on the streetcar, "I want to leave."

"Very unfortunate, the streetcar's broken. You'll have to walk with the boxes.

I don't know if you'll carry away all five boxes or if my search warrant will arrive first." As Luke finished speaking, Little Black had already approached the streetcar. Having roamed the streets in his teens, he might not be adept at repairing, but temporarily disabling a streetcar was easy for him.

"What you're doing is no different from being a rogue."

Little Black said, "You're calling me a rogue? Who's giving you the courage to insult LAPD?"

"I didn't insult anyone. Before accusing me, why not look at what you're doing?"

Luke retorted, "And you?

Using your father's name to acquire stolen paintings.

You're not just harboring stolen goods; you're tarnishing your father's name.

If your father knew, he might be angry enough to come back to life."

Tom Stone argued, "I didn't harbor stolen goods. I don't know what you're talking about. You're framing me."

"I didn't apply for a search warrant earlier because I didn't know where the paintings were hidden. Now that the boxes are here, I can apply for a search warrant anytime."

Tom Stone showed an angry expression, "Are you threatening me?"

"On the contrary, I'm helping you.

If you voluntarily open the boxes and assist the police in the investigation, we can discuss further.

If I come with a search warrant, then it's a case of being caught red-handed.

You should know the best choice to make."

"I've told you, these things belong to my father, and have nothing to do with me."

"Your father has passed. These boxes are in your possession, making you the biggest beneficiary, yet you refuse to cooperate with the police.