But that night everything went differently.

When the detective, with a satisfied smile, lifted the small bag of white powder, Edith calmly lowered her hands and looked him straight in the eyes. There was neither fear nor confusion in her gaze. Only cold calm.

— Finished? — she asked quietly.

The men froze for a second. They had not expected such a reaction. Usually at that point people would begin to justify themselves, cry, or shout. But Edith simply slowly reached toward the bedside table and pressed a button on a small black device.

At that same moment, a loud command came from the hallway:

— Nobody move! Federal Bureau of Investigation!

The door they had just broken open burst open again. People in bulletproof vests with yellow FBI letters stormed into the apartment.

The faces of the three “heroes of the department” turned pale. One of the agents quickly put handcuffs on the detective, while another grabbed the bag of powder and carefully placed it into an evidence bag.

Edith calmly got out of bed.

— Thank you, gentlemen, — she said almost gently. — You have just repeated the exact same scheme that we have been documenting for the last eight months.

It turned out that Edith was an undercover FBI agent. All this time she had been gathering evidence against a group of corrupt police officers who had been ruining the lives of innocent people for years.

And that night the trap finally snapped shut.

A few minutes later, those who were used to putting handcuffs on others were themselves sitting on the floor, trembling with their heads lowered.