Chapter 52 Law-Abiding Citizen and His Professional Team ( )...
"The deceased was a gang member." Batman stood up from beside the body. "It is estimated that he died about 6 to 12 hours after the incident. He had a stab wound on his right arm and died of cyanide poisoning."
He switched to detective mode: "There is no biological information about the murderer."
"Holiday killer?"
“That possibility cannot be ruled out,” Batman observed several stab wounds on the victim’s body, “but this killer is clearly more skilled with a knife and more familiar with human anatomy than the Holiday Killer… Were the surveillance cameras in the corridor compromised?”
“No, Master Bruce, actually none of these cameras are turned on. This place has just been renovated; it’s a hotel, and it’ll open in a couple of days,” Alfred’s voice came through. “The surveillance room is right across from your room.”
"All right."
"But there's more good news, Mr. Bruce, there are also cameras in this room."
"Hopefully it can capture the killer," Batman said, stepping out of the room, "but isn't having cameras here a bit too much..."
“After all, the cameras in hotel rooms are usually clearer than those in the hallways,” Alfred said with a hint of disgust.
Batman wanted to say something, but he held back.
Cracking this program is still a bit too easy; Batman reverted the surveillance back to earlier today.
The surveillance footage was fairly clear.
In the footage, the deceased first came to the room alone, and even prepared two glasses of wine in advance.
Then, a man wearing a motorcycle helmet entered the house, carrying a large suitcase.
“This guy is probably not exactly struggling financially, even though his clothes are quite inexpensive,” Batman said, “but the helmet he’s wearing is relatively expensive.”
After exchanging a few words, the masked man handed over the briefcase he was carrying. The deceased opened it, took out several bundles of money to check if they were real or fake, while the masked man seemed to take something out of his shirt pocket.
Batman deliberately zoomed in on the image, but what the deceased said was most likely some meaningless flattery, which can only be inferred to be that the masked man had a high status.
It was at this moment that the masked man made his move; a scalpel fell from his sleeve and stabbed the victim's right arm.
The stab was very effective. The victim tried to draw his gun, but his injured right arm prevented him from lifting it. He was kicked down by the assailant, and coincidentally, the victim was facing the surveillance camera.
For reasons unknown, the murderer opened the visor on his helmet and faced the victim.
The deceased seemed surprised; he uttered a single word, but was stopped by the murderer.
The murderer stuffed something into his mouth, and soon the victim stopped struggling.
He then carefully pulled off the helmet visor with his bare hands, which had never touched cyanide, repacked the suitcase, and turned to leave the room.
Batman zooms in on the footage of the victim before his death and plays it again.
Batman frowned: "He's talking about 'Thomas'."
“However, you and I both know this can’t be the Thomas Bruce we know,” Alfred said. “Both Jason and the dashcam footage can probably prove that.”
“I know he didn’t have the opportunity to commit the crime, and ‘Thomas’ is a very common name, whether it’s a surname, a first name, or a middle name,” Batman replied.
“Yes, Bruce Thomas Wayne,” Alfred said, “but I don’t think most people would call out the killer’s middle name first when they see his face.”
“But isn’t Thomas a bit too broad a range?” Dick peeked out from behind Alfred. “Couldn’t we have come up with a slightly more unique name for the killer? Like Adrian or Vincent or something?”
"Please go to sleep, Master Dick."
“I’m sorry, Alfred, but I can’t sleep.”
"Go to sleep," Batman said in a deep voice.
“Alright.” Dick shifted his feet slightly, but his eyes were searching the bat cave for a suitable hiding place…
“Go to sleep, Mr. Dick,” Alfred threatened in a calm tone. “Otherwise, you’ll have to watch Mr. Bruce eat all the dessert by himself, along with Mr. Thomas.”
Alfred's words carried more weight, and Dick vanished swiftly from the Batcave.
“So we have to start from other directions,” Batman reactivated his helmet’s detective mode, searching the room for traces of gunpowder while analyzing information about the killer: “Tall, strong, likely possesses some knowledge of anatomy and chemistry, of high status, probably has ‘Thomas’ in his name, and is likely quite wealthy…”
“That sounds familiar,” Alfred said.
It's more than just vaguely familiar; including Thomas Wayne Sr., there are three people in his family who perfectly fit this description.
Batman followed the trail of cyanide out of the room.
The sound of sirens came from afar, growing louder as they approached.
Batman frowned.
“That’s strange. Didn’t Chief Gordon receive the report before us?” Alfred questioned. “If what Miss Barbara said is true, she should have heard Chief Gordon receive the call from the police station before contacting you.”
“And Jim Gordon’s efficiency shouldn’t be this low.” Batman strode outside. He had to remind the officers to be careful. The killer was really uncivilized; he had smeared gloves stained with the victim’s saliva and cyanide everywhere, including doorknobs and walls. Anyone unaware of this could easily get it on them.
Surprisingly, there were not only police officers outside, but also some reporters.
Jim Gordon stood at the door with a worried look on his face as some detectives were about to enter.
"Be careful, there is cyanide on the handles and walls."
The police reacted quickly and raised their guns toward the source of the sound.
"Put your guns down! Get back to work!"
The police hesitated before moving their guns away.
Gordon walked up to Batman and whispered, "Do you have any leads on the killer?"
“A little,” Batman countered. “You got tripped up by the reporters?”
“I was stopped by people sent by the mayor,” Gordon said with a worried sigh, then whispered, “They said it’s related to some big shot in Gotham.”
This matter is too suggestive.
Batman immediately realized that the killer was probably after Thomas.
-
The next morning, Thomas got up early and walked downstairs in high spirits, while Jason, who hadn't slept all night, followed behind Thomas with dark circles under his eyes.
They ran into Dick downstairs, who was already sitting at the dining table. He looked even worse than Jason, slumped listlessly on the table.
The alarm rang, and Bruce stumbled downstairs from his room.
“What’s wrong, Bruce?” Thomas asked cautiously. “Are you going to work too?”
“No… Thomas,” Bruce said, trying to sound serious, “someone is trying to smear you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Thomas sat at the table. “It’s not the first or second time, I don’t care.”
“This time it’s different,” he leaned closer and said in a language Jason couldn’t understand, “It seems someone wants to link you to a murder case.”
"This does sound a bit challenging," Thomas said thoughtfully. "How's it going with the GCPD?"
"There are not enough clues to determine if you are the murderer, but there is a high probability that they will ask you to give a statement."
"It means my work plan for today is going to be disrupted again."
"...Is that the point?"
"How could it not be? I didn't go to work yesterday, and there seems to be some kind of press conference today."
Bruce couldn't refute his confident words, so he changed the subject: "Do you have any clues? Like, who are your enemies...?"
“There are quite a few, they’re everywhere in Gotham,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “But I think we can start with the Morning Post.”
“That’s right, that’s what I think too.” Bruce bypassed Jason, who couldn’t understand anything, and Dick, who was slumped on the table, and went outside to retrieve the morning paper. He glanced at it and read, “Thomas Wayne suspected of murder to cover up a crime. It seems the murderer probably gave the newspaper some information beforehand, otherwise this news would not have appeared in the morning paper.”
“This guy seems to be in a hurry,” Thomas said, walking over to Bruce to look at the newspaper. “It seems the killer’s writing skills are mediocre, or he’s just too hasty. To be honest, this article is less inflammatory than the one about me being possessed by a demon.”
“What’s he in such a hurry for?” Bruce ignored Thomas’s words and continued to think. “He could have arranged for reporters to ask you questions at the press conference.”
"There must really be Wayne Enterprises security at the press conference. Those reporters were all handpicked by us. And since it's a weekend arrest without a warrant, I can be detained for a longer period." Thomas shifted his gaze uninterestedly to another news story, "'Laughing Disease Spreads in the East District'... Why is it always the East District?"
"Thomas, what do you think the killer's motive is?"
"They probably want to use public pressure to force the police to take me in for questioning? Preferably at a press conference?" Thomas pulled the newspaper from Bruce's hand and looked at the contents carefully. "That's his or her most likely option."
“Okay,” Bruce handed him the whole newspaper, “I’ll check up on this newspaper tonight, and you…”
“I’ll stay in the GCPD until they release me,” Thomas said, raising his hands in surrender. “Don’t bother making me dinner tonight, Alfred.”
"Yes, young master Thomas."
"Breakfast may not be necessary tomorrow."
“No problem, young master Thomas.”
Bruce was slightly surprised; he couldn't quite believe that Thomas could be so calm.
“You think I’d use my privileges to get them to release me? I’m really upset, Bruce. I’m a law-abiding citizen.” Thomas put down his newspaper and started fiddling with the phone. “I’ll have my lawyers give them a good lesson in the law.”
This translates to, "I'm going to have my lawyers torture them to death."
...Okay, at least we're using the law.
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Author's note: Thank you all for the birthday wishes, little angels! I'm so happy!
I originally wanted to send one to each little angel—a cake emoji—to represent giving everyone a piece of cyber cake (), but it seems Jinjiang doesn't accept that, so I'll use candy instead. Wishing everyone a good mood!
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Writing suspenseful elements is so hard! (rolling around in frustration)
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