The next morning, a tall man with brown hair hurried to the investigation headquarters and delivered the flight simulation video previously prepared by the European Aviation Safety Agency.
Grace poured him a cup of hot water: "Reid has been waiting for you for days."
The brown-haired man raised his head cautiously and glanced in Patrick Zhuo's direction. "It still needs approval, and the results simulated by the software still have some flaws that need to be improved."
"boom---"
In the spacious office area on the second floor of the investigation headquarters, everyone was attracted by the sudden collision sound and looked up at the source of the sound. The cold man kicked his long legs forward, and the swivel chair slid backwards and hit the table behind him, causing the documents on the table to tremble slightly.
That's where the loud noise came from.
The client didn't seem to be planning to explain, he just chuckled and stood up, without even looking at Grace and the brown-haired man beside her, and walked past them. He scratched his hair that was tied into a small bun casually and walked to the complaint table.
"Go get the information."
Yi Su was stunned and did not move. He was in awe of Patrick Zhuo, and now Patrick Zhuo was angry. He did not know why, and he was even more panicked.
At this time, a tall and thin figure stood up and walked towards Grace.
Grace smiled helplessly at him, Ethan Fu took the hard drive and handed it over.
Ethan Fu knew that this man must be in a terrible mood. He raised his cold eyes and looked at him without a trace of warmth. After two full seconds, he reached out and took the hard drive from his hand.
Patrick Zhuo: "Load all the weather data as well. I want the error range to be as precise as 1 meter."
Yi Su: "...Yes."
A thick low pressure hung over the investigation headquarters for the entire morning.
It was at least a Category 12 low-pressure hurricane. No one dared to speak loudly, and the brown-haired man was even more uneasy.
Patrick Zhuo casually pulled a swivel chair and sat next to Yi Su, watching him use the latest software to rebuild the flight trajectory simulation video. He made some reference suggestions from time to time. With his arms tightly hugged to his chest, he leaned back on the back of the chair, and with a slight "tsk", Yi Su felt as if he was facing a great enemy.
At this time, even Alex Su obediently took some flight wreckage information to look through it, not daring to speak.
By noon, the new flight trajectory simulation video was reconstructed. The brown-haired man breathed a sigh of relief, not daring to look at Patrick Zhuo's face at all. He found an excuse and ran away without looking back.
Patrick Zhuo turned his head and asked: "What kind of tea did you make for him?"
Grace smiled and said, "Hot water."
Patrick Zhuo was stunned, then smiled with satisfaction for a long time.
Patrick Zhuo: "Have you contacted Mai Fei about the black box?"
Grace: "I thought you would contact McPhee yourself, Reid."
Patrick Zhuo: "It will be more convenient for you to contact them."
"good."
After briefly explaining the tasks for the afternoon to several people, Patrick Zhuo rummaged through the desk drawer, found a lighter, and put it in his pocket. He went downstairs and left the investigation headquarters.
Ethan Fu looked down from the second-floor window and saw him turn a corner, walk to the shadowy corner, and light a cigarette.
"How about we enjoy a nice lunch together before we start our afternoon work?"
Ethan Fu looked up and smiled at Old Joseph, "Okay."
The two of them grabbed a sandwich and went downstairs together.
At the stairs, they met Patrick Zhuo who had just finished smoking. The heavy smell of cigarettes on his body was like a haze that was entangled around him and could not be dispersed. He frowned and looked up and down at Ethan Fu and Old Joseph, and his eyes finally stopped on the sandwiches in their hands.
"Lunch?"
Old Joseph smiled and said, "Yes, just eat something and you can still get to the hospital before one."
Patrick Zhuo stepped aside to let the two go first.
When they went down the stairs, Ethan Fu looked back and saw that the man took two steps at a time and went upstairs in a few steps.
"Do you find Reid difficult to get along with?"
Ethan Fu was stunned for a moment and looked away.
"No."
Old Joseph shrugged. "I have to say, I find him extremely difficult to get along with." He winked at Ethan Fu. "You know Adrain, the EASA investigator who just left? He took two full days to send the video footage over. I really admire him. He has extraordinary courage. I have never seen anyone dare to stand up Reid for so long. He probably threw such people into the Atlantic to feed the fish. By the way, are you wondering why it is the Atlantic and not the Pacific?"
Ethan Fu smiled slightly: No, I don’t want to.
Old Joseph answered his own question with an envious look in his eyes: "I heard that Reid has a private island in the Atlantic Ocean!"
The two of them munched on dry sandwiches.
Old Joseph: "We must have a good meal tonight. It will be paid for by the government!"
Ethan Fu seemed to suddenly remember something. He said casually, "Since Mr. Zhuo values efficiency so much, the black box is now at Maifei Company. If we want to get it as soon as possible, shouldn't Mr. Zhuo contact Maifei Company?" After a pause, Ethan Fu said calmly, "After all, Mr. Zhuo was once the chief designer of Maifei F475."
Old Joseph laughed: "You don't know that. Do you know what Grace's last name is?"
Ethan Fu's heart tightened, but his expression remained unchanged. He showed a puzzled look: "I don't know."
"Her last name is Comte." Seeing Ethan Fu's surprised expression, Old Joseph was very satisfied. "Anyone can have the last name Comte, but in the aviation industry, there is only one Comte - the second largest shareholder of McFly, the Comte family."
In the afternoon, Ethan Fu and old Joseph came to the Helsinki University Hospital together.
Before the two were about to enter the hospital, old Joseph stopped and looked at Ethan Fu. He looked serious and asked, "I want to confirm two things before we go in. First, Fu, do you know who we are going to interview as a witness?"
"Know."
"Second, before the final results come out, no one knows the real cause of the crash of Japan Airlines Flight 917. Therefore, no matter how the outside world views it, our investigators are absolutely, absolutely forbidden to bring in any personal emotions."
Ethan Fu looked into old Joseph's light green eyes for a long time and nodded.
Both were admitted to the hospital.
The Japan Airlines JL917 crash killed 136 passengers and nine crew members, including a pilot, two co-pilots, an engineer and five flight attendants. Today, Ethan Fu and his team interviewed one of the surviving flight attendants, YamaSh!ta Hui.
After passing one ward after another, the two finally stopped in front of a single room. After knocking on the door and getting permission, they pushed the door open and walked in.
The ward faced south, and the dazzling sunlight shone into the room through the French windows, as soft and clear as spring. Ethan Fu couldn't help but squint his eyes, and after waiting for a few seconds to adapt to the light in the room, he gradually saw the young woman lying on the bed and looking out the window.
She had a small and delicate face, but her skin was pale and she was incredibly thin. Because she was too thin, her eye sockets were bulging and she almost looked unrecognizable.
Ethan Fu and old Joseph walked to her bedside, but she seemed to have heard nothing and still looked out the window quietly.
The white bed quilt covered her lower body, but only her left leg was outlined by the quilt.
No right leg.
Old Joseph said in English: "Ms. YamaSh!ta, I'm Joseph, and this is my colleague Ethan Fu. We called in advance and wanted to confirm some information with you."
The woman turned her head woodenly and looked at them. After a long time, she nodded.
Old Joseph said kindly: "If you feel uncomfortable during the conversation, you can always bring it up."
The only thing that answered him was YamaSh!ta Hui's unchanging silence.
Old Joseph looked at Ethan Fu, who nodded and turned on the recorder.
"May I ask where you were and what you were doing when the accident happened?"
In the silent room, the only sound could be heard: the ticking of medical instruments.
Just when Ethan Fu thought she wouldn't answer, she opened her mouth: "I am a business class flight attendant on JL917. The plane is about to land, and I am sitting in the front cabin safety seat, waiting for landing."
"Did you hear any unusual noises?"
"No."
"Did the captain's broadcast sound any special reminders?"
"No."
After a series of questions, YamaSh!ta Hui's answers gradually became "yes" and "no".
Ethan Fu couldn't help but look at old Joseph.
In interview psychology, if the interviewer's answers are only "yes" and "no", it is generally difficult to get useful information. So try to ask more open-ended questions and avoid closed-ended questions.
But he believed that with old Joseph's experience, he would not make such a mistake.
The next moment, old Joseph asked, "When was the last time you spoke to the cockpit, and what was the content of the conversation?"
YamaSh!ta Hui: "I am a business class flight attendant and I am not responsible for communicating with the cockpit."
After waiting for a while, old Joseph asked in a gentle voice: "When was the last time you spoke to Maeda Shousuke, and what did you talk about?"
In an instant, the veins on this face that had become a skeleton due to being too thin were exposed, and the eyes were bulging. YamaSh!ta Hui raised her head and stared at old Joseph.
Old Joseph seemed unaware. He said softly, "Maeda Shoji, the co-pilot of Japan Airlines JL917, has only 917 hours of flight time on the F435. But his flight test scores have always been excellent. I believe he is an outstanding young man." He took out a photo from his pocket, looked at it himself, and then handed it to YamaSh!ta Hui: "Your fiancé is a very handsome young man."
Shan Xiahui took the photo with trembling eyes. She stared at the young man with a flat head who was smiling brightly in the photo for a long time, and her huge eyeballs stared at the photo, and her fingers pressed the photo into wrinkles.
After waiting for a long time, a hoarse female voice rang out in tears: "Two days before departure... at noon on December 17, I spoke to him for the last time. We had a fight and I returned the ring to him. He is no longer my fiancé. He is a good man, but it was me who abandoned him. I am not worthy of him."
She couldn't hold back her crying again, she covered her cheeks with her hands, tears streaming down through her fingers.
She cried in grief and was speechless.
Old Joseph and Ethan Fu watched quietly from the side.
Five minutes later, YamaSh!ta Hui's voice trembled. She wiped away her tears and smiled weakly: "His father owed a large debt. We didn't know about this debt until half a year ago when we couldn't hide it anymore. Shojie was taught to be a man, to be responsible, and not to avoid difficulties, so he took the initiative to bear this debt."
"We had a hard time in the past six months. I wanted to help him, but I'm just a cowardly ordinary person. He never gave up. Even when the creditors came to his door, he apologized to them very seriously and promised to pay back the debt. He did it, and he paid back a lot of money, but there was still a lot, too much."
"I can't do it. I can't do it."
Covering her cheeks with her hands, Shanxia Hui burst into tears.
Suddenly, she stretched out her hands and held Ethan Fu's hands tightly.
Ethan Fu was sitting closest to her, and at this moment he seemed to be her life-saving straw.
She struggled to kneel down, but with only one weak left leg, she couldn't even get out of bed. So she held Ethan Fu tightly with both hands, opened her eyes wide, looked at him expectantly, and tears fell on the bed.
"Please, believe him. Shousuke is not that kind of person. He won't seek death. He won't kill anyone. Our breakup is all my fault. If he really wants to die and take me with him, then why am I still alive? Why, why am I still alive?"
"Shouldn't I be the one who deserves to die the most?"
"I abandoned him. I was scared. Yes, Shousuke is so smart. He has so many ways to take me with him to death. He won't let me live. So it's not him. It's really not him. Please, believe him. It's not him. It's really not him."
As if she had hysteria, she repeated the same words over and over again. She cried bitterly, and countless words of apology could not make up for the empty regret and despair in her heart. She could only say again and again--- "He is a good man, he would not do that, he would not do that."
"It's not him."
"It's me who deserves to die, it's me who deserves to die..."
The sound stopped abruptly.
YamaSh!ta Hui raised her head, opened her dry and chapped lips, and looked at the young man who was blocked by layers of mist through heavy tears.
Ethan Fu held her hand with his backhand, his face calm, and spoke softly. His voice was very soft, but every word was extremely clear, soaking into her heart, and somehow made her calm down.
"I believe that in his last moments, what he was thinking about must be---"
"It would be great if you could survive."
The world suddenly became quiet.
Half an hour later.
The ward door closed behind him.
Just as Ethan Fu was about to take a step forward, old Joseph's voice rang out in a teasing tone: "I thought you were going to say, I believe he is not that kind of person as the outside world speculates."
Pausing in his tracks, Ethan Fu turned to look at him, a smile on his fair and handsome face: "I thought you just told me that before the truth comes out, no matter what, we investigators must not mix in personal feelings."
Old Joseph laughed, patted Ethan Fu on the shoulder and was about to speak.
The black-haired young man continued with a smile in his voice, "Also, maybe Maeda Shousuke couldn't bear the pressure of debt and emotional breakdown, so he chose to commit suicide by plane crash?"
In an instant, the sunlight was covered by thick clouds, like the devil's cold-blooded laugh.
The corners of his mouth slowly stiffened.
Old Joseph was speechless. After a long while, he muttered in a low voice: "What's wrong with young people nowadays?"
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