Los Angeles Legendary Sleuth

Luke searched the band's name and song online.

The Quarrymen was the precursor to "The Beatles."

"That'll Be The Day" was the only album the band released.

The album was released in very limited quantities and holds high value as a collectible.

In 2012, a professional record magazine valued it at 250,000 US dollars.

Although Luke seldom listened to music, the Beatles' fame was so widespread that it was hard for him not to know of them.

The band was hailed as 'one of the greatest, most influential, and most successful bands in the history of popular music'.

Luke's focus now was not on the band itself, but on the value of this record.

Valued at 250,000 US dollars ten years ago, doubling that wouldn't be too much to ask, surely it could be worth half a million US dollars.

Luke was a bit excited, but not to the extent that he couldn't sleep.

He knew this was likely an opportunity provided by the system to monetize; otherwise, what were the chances of getting a record worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in an add-on box when he only paid 500 US dollars for a record player?

What Luke needed to do now was to inquire about the specific market value of the record and sell it for as high a price as possible.

...

The next day.

Luke woke up, his whole being brimming with energy as if there was no end to his vigor.

In the morning, he planned to get a real sense of the vintage record's valuation.

As for keeping it as a collector's item, Luke didn't have such ideas nor the highbrow taste.

More importantly, Luke still had to work; he surely couldn't bring the record with him to work, and he didn't feel secure leaving it at home either.

So, it seemed best to just sell it.

Luke also knew that for collectible records like this, prices are often not set in stone.

If you encounter a well-off enthusiast, let alone 250,000 US dollars, they might be willing to pay 500,000 US dollars.

Finding an appropriate buyer is crucial, and to sell at a higher price one must inquire in multiple places.

Luke planned to ask around three places: the first was still an antique shop, the second a store specializing in records, and the third an auction house.

Of these, Luke had the highest expectations for the auction house.

The first place Luke went to was still an antique shop, only this time he chose a different street, a different place; he wouldn't be foolish enough to go back to the antique shop where he bought the record and show off, wouldn't that just be asking for trouble?

There wasn't just one antique street in Los Angeles; this one was even closer to the downtown area. Luke chose a larger store called the Curios Shop.

As soon as he entered, a Latin woman greeted Luke, "Sir, what kind of collectible would you like to purchase?"

"I'm not here to buy, but rather to sell something. Is your boss around?"

The Latin woman asked, "What do you wish to sell?"

"A vintage record."

"Okay, please wait a moment."

After a while, a black man in his thirties came from the back of the store wearing a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, "Sir, I apologize for the wait."

Luke asked in return, "Are you the owner?"

"Yes."

"Do you call the shots on purchasing items, or does someone else?"

"Of course, I heard you want to sell a vintage vinyl record?"

"Yes."

"Which band?"

"The Quarrymen."

The black man seemed surprised, "The precursor to The Beatles?"

"Exactly."

"The album 'That'll Be The Day'?"

"Yes."

"How much do you want for it?"

"How much are you willing to pay?"

"700,000 US dollars."

The black man shook his head, "You must be insane. Although that album is precious, it's nowhere near that price."

"Wasn't it you who asked me? How much I quote is my freedom," Luke countered, "Do you intend to make a purchase or not?"

"Of course, but your asking price is too high. Not only can I not afford it, but neither can anyone else.

Rich people aren't fools."

"Then, in your opinion, what's a fair price?"

"300,000 US dollars."

"This street isn't the only place with antique shops."

"350,000 US dollars."

"It seems you're not too keen on this vintage record," Luke said as he turned to leave.

"400,000 US dollars, that's my final offer. No one can go higher than me."

"We'll see about that." Luke continued on his way out. He had only inquired at one place and didn't want to sell it off so easily.

Seeing Luke's determination to leave, the black shop owner said, "Sir, may I have your name and a contact where we can reach you? I'll discuss it with my partners later on, and if they agree, we could still raise our offer."

"Alright. Thank you." Luke gave him his mobile number.

Afterward, Luke visited a record store.

The owner of the record store loved the vintage record, and after back-and-forth bargaining, they offered 450,000 US dollars.

Lastly, Luke went to an auction house—Garris Auction House.

The auction industry in the United States is also very developed, and after learning of Luke's intentions, the manager of the auction house personally received Luke.

There was a professional appraiser responsible for authenticating and evaluating the price of the black vinyl record.

They finally gave an auction estimate between five hundred thousand and seven hundred thousand US dollars.

The auction house gave the highest estimate, but they would charge a ten percent commission.

This was a big business deal, and Luke didn't make an immediate decision.

He returned home, took the record player, and drove to Robert's birthday dinner.

About ten minutes later, a black Honda parked not far from the Luke family's home opened its door, and a black man got out, looked around to see no one else, and quickly ran to the Luke family's house.

The black man took out his tools from his pocket and skillfully picked the lock of the Luke family's door, slipping quietly into the house.

The black man put on gloves and shoe covers, and began to rummage through the house, seemingly in search of something.

He was quick and professional, searching the entire house in short order.

Unfortunately, it seemed he didn't find what he was looking for.

Just as he was about to leave, he suddenly noticed a young man with black hair in the living room, "fuck! You scared the hell out of me!"

"What the hell are you doing in my house, you moron?"

The young man with black hair was Luke.

After giving the record player to Robert, Luke had not joined the party but had gone directly back home.

The reason for returning wasn't that Luke sensed something was off but rather out of police intuition that had been honed over many years.

He had just acquired a vinyl record worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, like having several hundred thousand dollars lying around; it would inevitably attract attention from those with intentions, and this was a time not to be careless.

Although being a police officer was like a protective coloration, the world never lacked those blinded by greed, so it never hurt to be cautious.

Luke returned home and sure enough, he discovered a problem and caught the thief red-handed.

The black man saw Luke pointing a gun at him and hurriedly raised his hands, "Sir, I don't have a weapon, I'm not a threat to you, please don't shoot."

"What are you doing in my house?"

"I was just hungry and was looking for something to eat in your house.

sorry, I know I shouldn't have done that, you can call the cops on me."

"Did you come to steal that limited edition black vinyl record? How did you know about it? Who sent you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about? I was just hungry and came to find something to eat in your house, I had no idea about any black vinyl record."

"I hate liars the most."

"As I said, you can call the police."

Luke flashed his badge, "I don't need to call the police."

"Oh my God, you're actually a cop!" The black man's face showed shock and regret.

"Who sent you to steal my black vinyl record?"

"I told you, I didn't come here to steal the record, you've got it wrong," the black man was very conscious, wrapping his arms around his head, kneeling on the ground, "You can take me away."

Luke didn't like this kind of thief, not reckless, yet aware of the law; for attempted burglary, his charges wouldn't be too severe, he might just pay bail and get out.

Luke didn't want to let him off so easily.

Having a burglar turn his house upside down was not a glorious thing for a cop.

More importantly, the thief was after something in his own house, probably because of that black vinyl record, and if he couldn't catch the mastermind behind it, they might still try again, so he had to be careful.

Since the thief wasn't cooperating, Luke didn't need to be polite anymore, "Do you have a gun?"

"I don't, I never carry weapons, and I pose no threat to you," the black man still kept his hands on his head in a kneeling position.

Because he was well aware that under these circumstances, Luke wouldn't dare to shoot easily.

This wasn't Texas, this was California, a typical weak castle doctrine state.

Homeowners could only use defensive gunfire after issuing a warning, retreating, being attacked, and having no other recourse.

Initiating gunfire could easily bring trouble for the homeowner.

"No, you are a threat to me. You were hired to steal the black vinyl record, but you couldn't find it and instead found a spare handgun in my nightstand.

You weren't content to leave empty-handed, so you planned to steal my spare gun.

At that moment, you heard a noise outside the door, and knew I had returned.

You were prepared to kill me with my own spare gun, and stage it to look like a suicide," Luke analyzed earnestly.

"No, I never saw any spare gun, search me if you don't believe it."

Luke crouched down, and pulled out a small spare gun from the bottom of his trousers, then slid it towards the black man, "Now you have one."

"No no no!

Please don't do this, please..." The black man seemed to understand and kept pleading.

Luke made a silencing gesture, "Don't shout, move slowly, and pick up that gun."

"I beg you, spare me, I won't touch that gun, I won't..." the black man's voiced was laced with a crying tone, shuffling his knees away from the gun.

"Pick up that gun and kill me, then you can leave.

The black vinyl record is in my Mercedes, you can take it, come on!"

"No no... I beg you, I won't touch the gun, absolutely not..."

"You know? I've investigated many cases, some of which are hard to get to the bottom of. For example, if a gun has a suspect's fingerprints on it, but the suspect is already dead.

Do you think he touched the gun before or after death?

These things are all very particular."

Luke's voice got quieter and quieter, "I know how to determine that!"

The black man was so frightened that he trembled all over, and his tears and snot ran all over the place, "Please, don't kill me, I'll tell you everything.

It's the owner of a pawnshop who told me to do it, he's the one who wanted me to steal the black vinyl record."

"Which pawnshop?"

"CSJ Pawnshop."