13: Investigation with Alex

I talked with Renee for about an hour. Towards the middle of the conversation, she asked herself: do I really have a knack for deduction? After all, for a character in a book to use this method, the author must either be an expert in deduction himself or at least well-informed about it.

Not everyone can correctly build a chain of inferences and arrive at the right logical conclusions. Renee decided to test my abilities with her own eyes. At first, she asked me simple riddles that, in my opinion, anyone who listened attentively could solve.

After about thirty minutes, she got bored with my quick, correct answers and told me about one case. It was a murder in a five-star hotel.

Of course, this was another mystery—at least, that's how Renee presented it—but I sensed there was more to it. I was sure she had described an unsolved case to me. Civilians aren't allowed to divulge details of investigations, so she'd framed the murder as a mystery. If I had asked her the answer, she'd probably have brushed it off.

After hearing all the details of this unusual crime, I began to build a picture of what had happened. Of course, I'm no Sherlock Holmes, and my intellect isn't that high yet. Besides, I've mostly focused on programming and robotics. Ms. Montoya, on the other hand, is a natural-born detective.

I thought I could use a few lessons from Batman on the subject. I wasn't about to give up, though, and I wanted to leave a lasting impression on Renee. So, I resorted once again to my indispensable skill: intuition.

After asking a couple of questions that interested me, I said, "I'm ready to make an assumption: her own husband killed her."

"But he has a perfect alibi. He was stabbed by his ex-girlfriend, with whom he broke up not long ago. He physically could not have gone up to the floor above and stabbed his wife," she countered.

"However, he had a direct motive to do it. You said he broke up with his girlfriend after meeting her rich friend. And in the event of his wife's death, her fortune goes to him."

"Everything is true, but it's his injury that prevents us from establishing this fact. Several people saw that his wife was alive before he found himself in such a difficult state. She went up to her room, and he stayed to talk to his ex. Their conversation soon turned into an argument, during which, in a state of passion, she stabbed him. The ideal suspect in this case is his ex-girlfriend. After their breakup, she relentlessly pursued them. In the end, she checked into the same hotel where the newlyweds were staying. The knife she had was most likely intended for her friend, who stole her boyfriend. But she also has an alibi. Their quarrel was seen by two hotel employees. After she attacked her ex, she became hysterical, and one of the employees took her down to the lobby to calm her down. Almost all the employees saw her downstairs…" Renee explained, shaking her head.

"And what if I say that they acted together?" I asked, contradicting everything she'd just said. "The deceased's husband and his ex-girlfriend pulled off this crime together, providing each other with perfect alibis."

"You've really intrigued me," Renee drawled. "Continue…"

"The whole story is based on a rich girl stealing her friend's fiancé. And the angry young lady followed the newlyweds everywhere. But what if we assume they didn't break up at all and still loved each other? They simply decided to commit a cunning crime and secure a considerable financial fortune. The man marries a rich girl, kills her, and later becomes a wealthy, independent free man."

"A very bold assumption. But what did you base this opinion on?"

"It's quite simple… Tell me, did you detain his ex-girlfriend for stabbing him?"

"No," Renee answered briefly. "He did not accuse her or file a complaint about the attack. We assumed he simply didn't want his former love to go to prison."

"Maybe not his ex, but his real one? And one more question… What does the attacker do for a living?"

"A surgeon," Montoya said quietly. The puzzle in her head was also beginning to form a single picture.

"She could have easily obtained strong painkillers and injected him with adrenaline so he wouldn't faint. Her skills would have been enough to stab him in the stomach without causing any complications, let alone a fatal outcome. They were seen by two hotel employees: one helped the attacker by taking her downstairs, while the other ran to call for help. He had enough time to run up one flight of stairs, kill his wife, and return as if he had never left. Fortunately for them, the room was on the side of the stairs, which saved time. One more question: what was the deceased's husband's job?"

"Before getting married, he worked as a security guard at his ex-girlfriend's hospital."

"And where did he work before the hospital?"

"He worked there for several years, so his previous place of employment wasn't specified."

"Specify. You said that at the time of the crime, the surveillance cameras failed, and all their alibis are based solely on witnesses. Perhaps there is a third party involved who helped these two from the outside."

I shared my point of view regarding her "mystery" and highlighted what they had missed. Renee fell into deep thought.

"With this information, I suppose the case won't take long to close," she finally said. She looked at me with a complex expression, one that reflected curiosity, doubt, indecision, and a hint of mischief.

She gave me three more "riddles," which I carefully analyzed and solved, but one case stood out from the others.

She didn't even hide behind riddles this time; she directly handed me the case materials, complete with photographs from the crime scene.

Despite the fact that this was illegal, my interlocutor didn't seem embarrassed in the slightest. Carefully examining this case, I fell into a small stupor. I couldn't understand anything. I wouldn't even dare to call it a crime—it seemed more like a prank if not for one fact: a severed finger and a pool of blood on the floor.

Someone had killed a person in a small private house, but this wasn't the shocking part. What was odd was that the victim wasn't the owner of the house or even their closest friends. It looked as though someone had broken into the house, made a mess, left a severed finger, and then left.

However, a note thrown on the table cleared things up a little. It had a bloody fingerprint and the inscription: "Ha-ha-ha."

"Joker..?"

"At first, we thought the owners had killed someone and then staged it as if the Joker had done it. Only, the DNA on the sheet showed it really was the blood of that psychopath. It is unknown who exactly the Joker killed and why he did it to them," Renee sighed, feeling helpless in trying to unravel the thoughts of this madman.

Well, the Joker is either a madman or a genius. But as Jack Sparrow said, these are two extremes of the same essence. I'm afraid even I cannot comprehend the train of his thoughts.

My interlocutor was a little upset, but not much, because she understood that it was simply impossible to follow the logical chain of actions of this maniac. So far, only one person has managed to do this—Batman. Well, he truly deserves his nickname—the greatest detective in the world.

At three o'clock in the afternoon, the commissioner finally arrived at the department. I reminded him that he owed me one favor for the information I had provided. Gordon told me that my driver's license would be ready in a week.

He understood perfectly well that if he didn't do it, I could easily pay the right people, and they would make the necessary documents for me. So, he decided it was better for him to handle it rather than someone else. That way, he could protect me from unwanted problems.

Well, the fact that his daughter would now be working for my company also played a role. She had told him about it that morning. He wasn't against it at all. Previously, his daughter often said she wanted to serve in the police like her dad, but he tried his best to dissuade her because he understood what a heavy burden it was.

In the end, she enrolled in the faculty of "software engineering and computer technology." Now, upon finding out someone had hired her as a CEO before she had even completed her studies, he was incredibly happy.

Of course, at first, he was skeptical. Especially after hearing about her salary. But when he discovered it was me who gave her this job, he calmed down a bit, knowing we were already somewhat acquainted. Besides, he would always be able to find me and teach me a harsh lesson if something happened to his precious daughter.

So, how could he refuse such an insignificant request from his daughter's boss? After shaking his hand, I left the office and headed back to Renee. I offered to be her friend, and we exchanged phone numbers. Flirting with her would only push her away, so I planned to first become her close friend, someone she wouldn't be afraid to share her secrets with. I returned to the company when it was already four in the evening.

Heather and Barbara were still busy with company affairs. As soon as they saw my return, they immediately bombarded me with numerous questions. Having resolved the issues they found slightly unclear, such as future plans, budget, number of employees, and company headquarters, I pulled out a small book with blank pages.

It was custom-made for me. I intended to give Vicky a small gift. I couldn't go to her tomorrow empty-handed. Having laid out a pen and colored pencils on the table, I began to design the cover.

A handwritten book, existing in a single copy, from a famous author, which in the future would become a world bestseller. Hmm, even I was now interested in the future significance of this book. So, I decided to write a work by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, known worldwide—an allegorical fairy tale called *The Little Prince*.

Who says fairy tales are written only for children? Adults also love fairy tales. After all, a fairy tale is something bright, kind, and warm. *The Little Prince* is a unique children's book about adults who forget their childhood dreams and hopes.

Saint-Exupéry wrote about important things in simple words and illustrated them with simple drawings. It's important to understand these are not just illustrations but a significant part of the work as a whole: the author and the heroes of the fairy tale continually refer to the drawings and even argue about them.

Therefore, I needed not only to write the work but also to enrich it with original pictures. This was not particularly difficult for me, and not because the illustrations in this book are simple, as if drawn by an amateur—though this is true. No, the real reason is that drawing is one of my talents. I first discovered this when I had to depict characters for my mobile game. I was so engrossed then that I didn't even notice how professional the results were.

Once I realized this, vague memories surfaced. In them, I took brushes and brought to life the images in my head on paper canvases. I wondered if I had been an artist in a past life or if it was merely a hobby. I never found the answer to this question but decided the secret might be revealed to me someday.

If necessary, I could have made much more impressive illustrations for this book, but such work was not required here. The main character of this story begins by sharing how he dreamed of becoming an artist but, due to the influence of adults, chose the path of a pilot. His artistic skills remained undiscovered.

Yet, it is these simple drawings that lend the book its charm. It took me two hours to finish my manuscript. But I wasn't ready to rest just yet. I turned on the computer and continued typing "It." An hour later, Barbara entered my office.

"It was much more difficult than I thought, and I hadn't even heard of some of the things," the redhead began to complain. "Alex, do you know that you're very lucky to have an assistant?"

"Of course! I value her incredibly!"

"I already understood that when I found out about her salary, which is much higher than mine. But when I spent the whole day with her, I realized why you value her so much." There was a note of respect in Barbara's voice.

As I said, they would definitely get along. Having gotten ready, we headed to Wayne Manor. After all, his cave is the best place for training, even though falling there hurts. Besides, Barbara hadn't yet told Bruce she would now wear the Batgirl mask much less often.

In reality, this wasn't necessary. He probably already overheard our conversation yesterday. Well, he is Batman!

.

.

.

.

Please vote with power stones, we need them.

Give me all your love through reviews and comments and if possible, drop a like on my profile. :)

DON'T FORGET ABOUT POWER STONES.