Chapter 239 Our People in Vienna (Third Update, Please Subscribe)
Of course, Boss Zhu is still stingy.
Especially those who are narrow-minded, such people are most likely to hold grudges, and the thing they talk about most is being rejected!
In fact, before the task of developing the torpedo "Special Product No. 13" was handed over to the 10th Research Laboratory, he had tried to hire Robert Whitehead. But that guy had already achieved success by then. He was the manager of a branch of a British company in Austria-Hungary, doing business with the Austro-Hungarian Navy for many years. Even the idea of making torpedoes came from cooperation with the Austro-Hungarian Navy. This guy, who earned thousands of pounds a month, was a member of the upper class. He refused to accept the offer of employment from the American Company without even thinking about it.
Once upon a time, Robert Whitehead was Zhu Xianhai's backup plan - if "Special Product No. 13" failed, Nanhua Company would introduce the torpedo designed by that guy a few years later and then concentrate manpower and financial resources to improve it.
But now that Nanhua already has corresponding products, then...
"Deal with it?"
Qian Zizhuang looked at the file and his brows twitched slightly. This was the first time he had received such a task.
"Yes!"
Zhu Xianhai nodded and said.
"You need to study it and see if there is any way. I mean the simplest way that can solve some problems quietly. Well, you can understand it as a technical operation."
What is technical operation? To put it simply, it is to use technical means to make some troubles leave the world quietly and forever.
As for how to leave.
It depends on whether the Investigation Department has the ability to do so.
The Investigation Department doesn’t have it, but doctors do. Doctors can kill people, but they can also save people. And many times, killing people is easier than saving them!
In Vienna in January 1866, snowflakes were floating in the air. Most pedestrians on the road wore black woolen coats and top hats, but many of them still held umbrellas. Only a few people did not hold umbrellas and just let the snow fall on them.
Schlitz was standing on the roadside with his collar turned up. His dress made him look like an ordinary citizen, perhaps even unemployed. The occasional policeman passing by didn't even look at him. There were many people like him in Vienna.
Not to mention people like him, there are even more homeless people. Decades later, there is still a homeless art student who failed the exam.
Standing on the side of the road, Schlitz quietly watched the British people entering and leaving the building. These people seemed to be dressed differently from the Viennese, but they were generally tall and strong, with a superior look. They walked and talked to each other in English.
Schlitz didn't understand what they were saying, nor did he care about what they were saying. He was just looking for his target, and soon the target appeared in his sight. The man was talking to his colleagues. From his expression, he seemed very happy. Maybe he had finalized an order with the Navy. Who knows? For businessmen, the simplest reason for them is money.
After confirming the target, Schlitz did not continue to follow, but went to prepare for the action later. When Schlitz left, Robert Whitehead looked across the street. He felt as if someone was watching him.
But there was no one on the other side.
In snowy weather, there were few people on the road. This was even more so at night because the temperature was very low. After entering the restaurant, Hank, like all the coachmen, parked the carriage, tied the horse, and went to the small restaurant prepared by the hotel for the coachmen, where the coachmen had their meals.
It was such a cold day, of course Hank had to have a couple of drinks when he arrived at the small restaurant. There was no such thing as drunk driving in Europe in 1866. In fact, for the coachmen, getting drunk was the most common thing. When Hank was drinking, he didn't know that someone had arrived at the carriage shed. In the dim light, he started to busy himself beside the carriage. In fact, he didn't do much. He just slightly adjusted the window of the charcoal stove at the back seat of the carriage, that is, he sealed the ventilation holes with ice and snow, and changed the charcoal in the charcoal stove.
It doesn't seem like this is a big deal.
A few hours later, after saying goodbye to the officers of the Admiralty, the drunk Robert Whitehead got into the carriage. As usual, the driver had put the charcoal stove under the back seat early. The heat radiated through the iron windows, making the whole carriage hot.
Robert Whitehead, feeling quite comfortable, simply squinted his eyes. Today was a good day.
"If everything goes well, as long as we get this order, we can get at least a few thousand pounds in commission,"
As a manager, Robert Whitehead's income is not just salary. For him, the commission from each transaction is the most important income. Of course, as an ambitious businessman, he has been conducting another research recently.
"The key is depth. How to control its depth and keep it sailing at a fixed depth is the most important thing..."
Robert Whitehead felt a little tired while talking to himself, and slowly fell asleep. Everything was so quiet.
More than an hour later, when Hank opened the car door, along with the heat wave that hit him, he also smelled a strange odor, a strong smell of charcoal.
"Sir, sir..."
Looking at the sleeping Robert Whitehead, Hank suddenly felt an ominous feeling in his heart.
"Sir, please come quickly, help me, help me..."
At his shout, Schlitz ran over like an ordinary enthusiastic passerby.
"What's wrong? Do you need any help?"
"I don't know either. Mr. Robert Whitehead may have been poisoned by carbon monoxide. Can you help me carry him down?"
When Robert Whitehead was dragged out of the carriage, Schlitz deliberately felt his pulse and found that he had completely stopped breathing!
Success!
Schlitz laughed secretly in his heart.
Soon, Mrs. Whitehead arrived and the police also arrived at the scene.
Everything seemed to be taken for granted. After the police inspected the carriage and found the charcoal stove vents blocked by ice and snow, they made a judgment.
"Ma'am, this is an accident. Mr. Robert Whitehead was poisoned by carbon monoxide. This is normal in winter. The weather is so cold that no one knows when the snow and water will block the vents."
This is an accident!
This was enough. In fact, Robert Whitehead was just an ordinary person in Vienna. No one thought there was anything strange about his death. A few days later, Mrs. Whitehead left Vienna with Robert Whitehead's coffin and returned to England...
(End of this chapter)
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