civilwarnovels Chapter 2331 Gotham Music Chapter (7)
Chapter 2331 Gotham Music Chapter (7)
Chapter 2331 Gotham Music Festival ()
It was drizzling in Gotham at night, but it was not as gloomy and cold as the continuous rainy days in the past. Although the rain was cool, the water vapor coming through the window cracks had a damp and refreshing feeling.
Schiller, who was half asleep and half awake, hung up the phone and sighed softly. Merkel brought in hot tea and placed it in front of Schiller and said, "Another murder? Sir, do you need a coat?"
"Ah... of course." Where Merkel couldn't see, Schiller's eyes turned slightly, and then he immediately restrained the lively expression on his face, turning serious and deep.
He coughed lightly and said, "Prepare suits. The ones I used to wear will do."
Merkel was a little surprised. He said: "You don't let me get close to your closet. Have you forgotten? Oh, I see. Actually, you are someone else..."
"I'm not. I have something to do. Go get some clothes ready."
Merkel turned and walked away without asking any more questions. Schiller sighed, took out his cell phone and fiddled with it. In fact, he was greedily checking the call records of Pride before.
He had to go to the murder scene, but he was not familiar with the people in this universe, so the best way was to disguise himself as Professor Schiller, whom they were familiar with.
Greedy sighed in his heart. It was really difficult to pretend to be arrogant. Now if only he had broccoli, he could just act like he died on the spot and everyone would believe it.
Merkel brought the clothes. Schiller frowned slightly, looked up at Merkel, and asked, "Where's the brooch?"
"Well, do you want to wear a brooch? Then I'll go find it." Merkel looked at Schiller a little suspiciously and said, "What style do you want?"
After a moment's thought, Schiller recalled that, among them, only Pathological seemed to wear a brooch. Arrogance was a person who relatively advocated simplicity and unchangingness, while he himself thought wearing a brooch was too troublesome.
But the words had already been said, and it was too late to take them back, so Schiller made a puzzled expression and said, "For the marlin brooch, you have to pierce the longest one."
Merkel was stunned for a moment, then suddenly realized what was going on. Without saying anything, she went downstairs to get the brooch. Schiller changed his clothes in the bedroom. To be precise, he struggled with the terrible suit for 1 minute and 40 seconds and barely put it on.
Just as Schiller was wondering why a proud person would wear so many straps under his suit, Merkel came up with a tray full of brooches. In addition to marlin brooches, there were many long brooches with spikes.
Schiller actually liked a boat-shaped one, which had a simple and smooth design and was shiny silver, but he knew that Arrogant would definitely not choose this one, so he finally chose the black marlin brooch.
Wearing a black suit with a black brooch, Schiller wanted to laugh as he stood in front of the mirror, but he knew he couldn't stand there any longer, so he strode out of the room as if arrogant.
Merkel had no doubts, but Schiller almost forgot to take his umbrella. Fortunately, he remembered it before he walked past the umbrella bucket, otherwise all the previous efforts would have been in vain.
Holding an umbrella, Schiller got into the driver's seat of the car that Merkel drove to the door. He subconsciously stepped on the accelerator hard, and then realized that this was Gotham Manor, not his suburban sanatorium. He stepped on the accelerator and had to crash 17 times before he could reach the next intersection.
He started slowly and turned the intersection at the slowest speed he had ever taken. Schiller felt that the sighs he felt in his heart were greater than the force of this car. What was the need for such an old Bentley to exist?
Then there was a long traffic jam.
Of course, Schiller is not unaccustomed to traffic jams. After all, he experienced traffic jams when he lived in a big city in his previous life. Now that he has come here, there is no place in Gotham or New York that is not jammed. He has been stuck in traffic jams for two lifetimes and has long been used to it.
By the time he drove from the West District to the South District where the crime occurred, it was almost midnight. Schiller felt that his trip was in vain as he had been stuck in traffic for nearly two hours and had investigated every case.
As the car just turned the intersection, we saw a police car arriving from the opposite direction. Gordon, who had also been stuck on the road for two hours, got out of the car cursing.
Schiller tried hard to hold back his laughter, pushed open the car door, and just as he was about to put his feet out, he suddenly saw a puddle of water on the ground. Great, this was the hurdle that arrogance could not overcome.
So he pulled his foot back and sent a text message to Gordon in the car, "I'm here."
Sure enough, two minutes later, Gordon appeared outside the car door with two cups of hot tea. The police officer behind him spread a waterproof blanket outside the car door. Schiller got out of the car, but did not take the tea from Gordon's hand. Instead, he pointed at the building and strode in that direction.
Gordon sighed as he looked at his back, but said nothing. Instead, he followed behind him. Without waiting for Schiller to ask, he took the initiative to say, "It's not that I wanted to call you so late, but I know you must not be asleep..."
Schiller said in his heart, I went to bed four hours ago. If it weren't for this phone call, he could have slept for at least another four hours. I really don't understand why these Gotham people would be so active at night in a city where the sun rarely comes out.
"Very peculiar," said Gordon at last, getting to the subject. "It is obvious that it was done by your kind."
Schiller finally couldn't help but look back at Gordon. "Does the policeman want to listen to what he is saying? You called me here to be a detective in the middle of the night, and you said that this case was committed by people like us. You are trying to find the murderer by the process of elimination?"
At this time they had already walked into the hall, and Schiller's footsteps stopped instantly.
In the center of the hall there was a naked male corpse with his head and limbs chopped off and his abdominal cavity hollowed out. The head was placed in the middle with his limbs also in between, like four petals stretched out in four directions. The whole person had become a sculpture of a strange shape.
The sculpture is supported by a brass plate, and underneath is a very common exhibition stand.
Schiller then remembered that the building they had walked into was not an ordinary civilian building. He turned to look at Gordon, who nodded and said, "Gotham Museum of History. Mrs. Feynman, who is in charge of the lobby, found this when she was about to lock the door after get off work."
Schiller pretended to understand, but in fact he knew nothing. He didn't know the history of the Gotham History Museum, nor did he know who Mrs. Feynman was. He didn't even know what time the door was locked, or who this unlucky guy was.
But Gordon just acted like he must know everything, and his eyes seemed to be hoping that Schiller would stand here and explain the whole thing in about two minutes.
It’s not like Greed hasn’t appeared in DC before, but that was a long time ago.
What happened over the years? Bruce became like the Joker, and Arrogance became like Batman.
What unrealistic expectations did these people have of him? How did he know who the murderer was? And why did he need to know who the murderer was? Anyway, these ordinary policemen here would definitely not be able to catch someone who could do this, so why waste their time?
Schiller took out his cell phone, dialed the number and said, "Come over."
With a click, the phone fell to the ground.
Hearing the sound, Amanda rushed out of the bathroom in a hurry. The blood between Bruce's fingernails had not yet completely dried, but he raised his head and stared at Amanda and said, "He knows."
Amanda opened her mouth in shock, and then a trace of panic appeared on her face. She looked at the mess on the ground and said, "What should I do?"
Bruce took a deep breath. He was obviously nervous too, but not about the same thing as Amanda. He also looked around, mainly at the pile of internal organs wrapped in plastic in the middle of the small bathroom.
"There's no time to find a crusher, just crush it and flush it down." Bruce said, holding his two red hands.
“What about the tools?”
"Put it back in the utility room, no one will notice it." Bruce walked to the window and looked down. A row of police cars were driving towards the end of the block, where the crime scene had occurred.
"Schiller shouldn't have come so soon!" Amanda screamed.
"I don't know what's going on either." Bruce said, "My calculations are accurate. It should have taken an hour from the time we took action to the time the body was discovered. The police should have arrived three hours later, and Schiller would have come an hour later. He is more accustomed to letting ordinary police collect obvious clues, so that he can directly verify his ideas through these things."
"Could it be that Gordon is rushing us?" Amanda frowned and said, "I told you not to make such a big scene. Gordon must be mad, so he's urging Schiller to come quickly."
Bruce walked over, bent down to pick up the plastic sheet and said, "He couldn't spur Schiller. I wonder if the professor knew we were going to do it?"
"How is it possible? How could he have predicted the future?"
"He knows me very well." Bruce grabbed the four corners of the plastic sheet in his hands, squatted on the ground and looked at the ground and said, "He knows that one day I will realize what was missing that prevented my doctoral application from being approved."
Amanda was stunned at first, then her expression became desperate. She looked at Bruce with a look of "you are not right".
Then she began to break down and yelled at Bruce, "Don't tell me that the final material you have to submit for your doctoral application is the work of a serial killer! Do you remember who you are?"
“We did this together.”
Amanda held back her words. She took a deep breath and said, "But it was you who proposed..."
"He died in your hands, I'm sure. What I did afterwards was just fiddling with the corpse. It was immoral, but not illegal."
Amanda realized that she was being manipulated again. She wanted to rush up and slap Bruce, but she also knew that now was not the time to care about it.
She glanced at the blood on her hands, arms and body, and walked to the bathroom while cursing, "No good will come to anyone who gets involved with you two, you two damn lunatics! Psychopaths! Serial killers!"
"You'd better calm down." Bruce said as he packed up. "He called me over. You have to deal with these last few things. You know that with him here, if you make even the slightest mistake, we'll all be finished."
Amanda's angry scream came from the bathroom.
Bruce began to prepare his speech in his mind. He knew that the war had just started and every word he said next would be related to whether he could get a doctorate.
Schiller put down the phone, looked at Gordon and said, "Bruce will be here soon."
"Does this have anything to do with him?"
"Of course, it has a great impact."
Schiller added silently in his heart, the omnipotent Batman is not coming, and you are not paying, so are you going to let me figure out who the murderer is by myself?
(End of this chapter)