Chapter 55: Murder on a Rainy Night_1

Gotham's late autumn rain fell, causing a dim, yellow fog to rise under the illuminated street lamps. The cold lights of the car slowly spread from the corner, illuminating the end of the dark alley.

The neon lights reflected on the black car body, the car door opened, and the driver got out holding a black umbrella, walking to the back seat to open the door.

The servants at the entrance of the mansion all wore white shirts and champagne vests. They ran over quickly, laying a carpet under the car door. With his shoes stepping on the carpet, Shiller leaned on the car door, stepping out of the car.

As soon as he straightened up, he noticed a guest in front of him tossing a huge umbrella into the arms of a thin umbrella boy. The drops of water on the umbrella soaked the boy completely, and the waiters beside the entrance were quietly laughing at him.

Shiller took his own umbrella, approached the entrance, and a blond manager enthusiastically came over saying, "You're Professor Rodriguez, right? The Godfather has been waiting for you."

As soon as he finished speaking, Evans came down from the stairs. He warmly hugged Shiller, saying, "Thank you, Professor Shearer, my coming of age ceremony is not worth you making such a fuss to attend."

"It's nothing, happy birthday."

While they were talking, Shiller glanced at the umbrella boy holding a huge umbrella. He looked to be about Evans' age, only thinner and smaller, with an eagle hook nose, and a somewhat sinister look in his eyes. He was trying hard to close the giant umbrella in his arms but looked comical due to his frailty.

Shiller noticed that the boy's cufflinks were meticulously fastened, making him look more like a dignitary attending the party than a waiter.

Noticing Shiller still holding his own umbrella, Evans seemed displeased. He also looked towards the umbrella boy. The manager, adept at reading the room, stepped forward, smacked the umbrella boy on the back of his head, then handed the giant umbrella to someone else.

The umbrella in Shiller's hands was already closed. He held the middle section, passing the handle to the umbrella boy. The boy rolled his somewhat murky eyes upwards, glanced at Shiller, then timidly took the umbrella with his head bowed.

This little incident didn't affect the progress of Evans' birthday party. Surprisingly, Bruce was also in attendance.

Of course, they were classmates, and both come from the same social class: Gotham's high society.

Shiller, holding a glass of wine, was discussing club related matters with Evans. Soon, the party's protagonist was called away by his father. Bruce approached, saying, "Aren't you going to eat something first, Professor?"

Shiller shook his head and asked him, "Didn't you say last time that you wanted to be the club president? That's unusual."

Just as Bruce was about to reply, he heard Shiller say, "Judging by the level of the papers you've been handing in, not to mention being club president, you may not be well suited to studying psychology."

"Don't be like that, you know why I'm doing this."

"But that's no reason to contaminate my eyes with a bunch of academic garbage."

"Okay, how much club dues would it take to make you waver in your academic commitment? Would 200 million US dollars be enough?"

Shiller cursed silently in his heart, but he still said, "I suggest you change your disguise. Are you sure you can handle hanging around a bunch of screw-ups all the time?"

"I use ginger juice in place of alcoholic drinks, and those burning powders are just ordinary spices."

Shiller remained silent, his gaze falling to Bruce's waist. Bruce said, "Okay, there is indeed a problem."

Just as they were talking, the lights in the center of the banquet hall lit up one by one, and Falcone led Evans down the central staircase.

This was an important part of the coming of age ceremony, with the elder introducing his child to his social circle, indicating that he was now fit for social activities and ready to undertake the mission of inheriting the family business.

After that, Shiller and the other elders gave Evans some encouragement, and finally, it was Evans himself. First, he solemnly crossed his chest, then he thanked God.

While Evans was speaking, Shiller noticed a thin figure lurking beneath a heavy curtain in the periphery of his right vision.

However, once the crowd had dispersed from the center, the figure had disappeared.

The normal dances and banquets continued thereafter, with dazzling lights and clinking glasses. In the brightly lit banquet hall, people conversed with various intentions in mind.

However, like his treatment at S.H.I.E.L.D., almost no one would take the initiative to talk to Shiller. Everyone knew about his impressive history, and no one wanted to stay long in front of a person who might see through their innermost secrets.

After a while, the banquet was drawing to a close, and Shiller felt a bit hungry. He planned to grab some food at the serving table. At this moment, he heard a sound from behind the staircase to his right. A woman in a sumptuous dress ran out screaming, "Old Edward!!! He's collapsed in the restroom!!!"

All the people present dispersed hurriedly. Falcone said in a steady voice, "Everybody calm down, Andy, go see what's happened."

A man next to the Godfather went to check it out, then quickly returned to whisper something in Falcone's ear. Falcone's gaze swept over everyone present, and pressured by his aura, no one dared make a sound.

Falcone said, "Old Edward is dead; he died during my son's coming of age ceremony."

In a banquet hall full of hundreds of people, it was as if nothing existed. It was so silent that no one dared to even breathe loudly. Everyone was contemplating, pondering who was so audacious as to cause havoc on the Mafia godfather's turf?

Falcone, leaning on his cane, said, "Where is Little Edward? Have him come to me. His uncle died here, he must surely make a visit."

"Also, go to the police station, have them send someone over for investigation. Evans, act as a gracious host for me, don't let the guests feel neglected."

Then, Falcone gave his assistant Andy a look, and turned around to leave.

Standing next to Shearer, Bruce asked him, "You saw too, didn't you?"

"Yes, but it has nothing to do with me."

Bruce said, "It seems that Little Edward is bound to win, the situation at the docks is going to get chaotic."

"You think it was Little Edward who did it?"

"He stands to benefit the most, doesn't he?"

Shearer shook his head, "I think, the Edward family is the biggest loser. With Old Edward dead, everyone will suspect his nephew was behind it. And given this happened at the Godfather's only son's coming-of-age ceremony, it would be justifiable for him to retaliate against the Edward family."

"You think Falcone staged the whole thing?"

"He's far more cunning than you imagine."

Bruce turned around and looked. The banquet hall, which was bustling with excitement just moments ago, had completely cooled down. Most people had left, not daring to continue lingering here as the Godfather fumed. The leftover banquet, under the still bright lights, looked more desolate than ever.

As Shearer was about to leave, it was the godfather's assistant who returned his umbrella. Andy said, "I'm sorry, Professor, the godfather asked me to convey his apology on his behalf. None of us expected such a thing to happen at the first banquet we invited you to."

"Yes, none of us expected it."

Shearer looked down at his umbrella, all droplets of water on it had already dried. He stood under the porch, and saw a group of people carrying a box — likely Old Edward's body — toward the side door of the mansion.

They loaded the box onto a vehicle. Judging from the direction the car departed, Old Edward's body would likely be dumped in the sea.

Shearer stood at the doorway for a while longer. Soon, police lights flashed through the rainy night, and a police car arrived. Yes, Gotham was just like this. The police wouldn't wait until the bodies were disposed of.

Gordon arrived once again at a crime scene where neither the victim nor the perpetrator had left any traces, not even a drop of blood. However, he appeared quite adapted, commanding the officers under him methodically as they began to investigate the restroom.

As for himself, instead of working the case or recording notes, he was led by others to meet Falcone.

The result of the case investigation did not depend on what had happened in the restroom or what the police discovered. It solely depended on one person's attitude, and that person was the banquet's host, Falcone.

This was how things were in Gotham. When one gang member kills another, the police find themselves in an awkward position. Gordon understood this principle well. In Gotham, being a police officer required psychological fortitude much more than investigative skills.

After a while, Evans, holding an umbrella, came out. He hurried toward Shearer, saying, "Professor, I heard you haven't left yet. Is there something else?"

"No, nothing special, as you know, I am quite interested in these sort of cases."

Evans revealed an embarrassed expression, saying, "Uh... this is just a minor case, not a serial killer case. But if you're interested, you are welcome to have a look."

Shearer shook his head, but handed his umbrella to Evans, saying, "Give this to the godfather."

Accepting the umbrella, Evans seemed somewhat baffled.

After Shearer left, Falcone took Shearer's black umbrella from Evans, saying, "It seems he indeed will be your longest-serving private tutor."

Meanwhile, sitting in the car on the way back, Shearer listened to the sound of rain beating against the windows. He recalled the scrawny and meek boy with the umbrella, and the guest who, with a large umbrella of his own, had entered before him and teased the young boy — that man was Old Edward.

As soon as Shearer returned to his apartment, he heard a noise from the balcony, Batman was standing there. Without turning around, Shearer heard Batman say, "I want to investigate Old Edward's case."

"Why? Gang fights are also within your jurisdiction?"

"He used to be the boss on Park Street."

Shearer did not reply, but Batman continued, "He knew who killed my parents."