Chapter-55 | The Rainy Night Murder Case...

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　　The cool late autumn rain of Gotham drifted down, causing a dim fog to float beneath one of the lit street lamps. The cold light of the headlights gradually spreading from the corner to illuminate the end of the dark alleyway.

　　The splashes of neon reflected on the black car, the door opened and the driver stepped down with a black umbrella and went to the back seat to open the door.

　　The attendants at the entrance to the public house, all dressed in white shirts and champagne waistcoats, scurried over and spread the carpet under the doors, their leather shoes on the carpet, as Schiller held the door and stepped out of the car.

He was just standing upright when he saw a guest who had walked in in front of him throwing a huge umbrella into the arms of a skinny umbrella boy, who was soaked to the skin with the copious amount of water on it, and the waiters beside the front door all sneered at him in low voices.

Schiller took the umbrella himself and went to the door, where a blond manager came out enthusiastically and said: "Professor Rodriguez, isn't it? His eminence the Godfather is probably waiting for you."

　　Just as he finished speaking, Evans came down the stairs, he embraced Schiller warmly and said, "Thank you, Professor Schiller, my Bar Mitzvah was really not worth all the trouble you went to to come here."

　　"It's nothing, happy birthday."

　　The two were talking when out of the corner of his eye Schiller caught a glimpse of the umbrella boy holding a huge umbrella, he looked like he should be about Evans' age, only with a thin, small body, a hawkish nose and some shifty eyes that didn't look pleasant, he was trying to gather the huge umbrella in his arms into place, but because he was so skinny his movements looked a bit funny.

Schiller noticed that the cuff links on his wrists were meticulously buttoned, more like a dignitary who had come to a party than a waiter.

　　Seeing that Schiller was still carrying the umbrella himself, Evans was a little upset and he turned his head to look at the umbrella boy as well. The manager, who was very good at reading people, walked up and slapped the umbrella boy on the back of the head before asking the man next to him to take the huge umbrella.

The umbrella itself was already folded in Schiller's hand, so he took the middle part of the umbrella and handed the handle to the boy, who then rolled his beady eyes upwards, looked at Schiller and took the umbrella with his head bowed.

This little incident did not interfere in any way with Evans' birthday party and, somewhat surprisingly, Bruce came along.

　　Of course, after all, they were classmates and were of a similar class, both being in Gotham's upper class.

　　Schiller, with a glass of wine, was conversing with Evans about the club when soon the star of the party was called away by his father and Bruce came over and said, "Won't you have something to eat first? Professor?"

　　Schiller shook his head and asked him, "You said last time that you wanted to be head of the club? That's a rarity."

　　Bruce was just about to speak when he heard Schiller say again, "Given the level of papers you've turned in, let alone being the head of the society, you're probably not well suited to studying psychology."

　　"Come on, of course you know why I did that."

　　"But that's no reason for you to pollute my eyes with a load of academic rubbish."

"Well, how much of the society's dough would sway you slightly from your academic adherence?Is $200 million enough?"

Schiller cursed inwardly, but he said, "I suggest you change your disguise, can you really stomach this blending in with the rotten people all day?"

　　"I'm all about ginger ale instead of alcoholic beverages, and those powders that burn up are just plain old spices."

Schiller didn't say anything, just dropped his eyes silently to the side of his waist, and Bruce said, "Well, that does seem to be a bit of a problem."

As he was speaking, the lights in the middle of the ballroom came on in turn and Falcone led Evans down the central staircase.

This was an important part of the Bar Mitzvah, the introduction of his child by his elders to his social circle, to show that he was ready to participate properly in social events and take up the mantle of inheriting the family estate.

　　After this, Schiller, together with the other elders, gave a few words of encouragement to Evans, and finally Evans himself, who first made a cross on his chest with great devotion, and then gave thanks to God.

While Evans was speaking, Schiller noticed, in the glimpses to his right, what appeared to be a thin figure hiding in the shadow of the heavy curtain.

And when the crowd gathered in the middle had dispersed, the figure was gone.

　　After that it was on to the normal flow of the ball and banquet, with lights flashing, glasses intertwined and people talking in their own minds in the gilded ballroom.

　　But like the way Schiller had been treated at S.H.I.E.L.D., few people would come up to him to initiate conversation; everyone knew his impressive resume and no one wanted to spend too much time in the presence of someone who could potentially see into their innermost secrets.

　　After a while, the party came to an end and Schiller, feeling a little hungry, went to the side table to get something more to eat, when he heard a noise at the back of the stairs to his right and soon a lady in a gorgeous dress came running out screaming, shouting: "Old Edward! He's fallen in the lavatory!!!"

　　Everyone around them scattered hurriedly and Falcone said in a hushed voice, "Quiet all, Andy, you go and see what's going on."

　　A man beside the Godfather walked away and soon returned to whisper something in Falcone's ear. Falcone's eyes swept over everyone present and none of them dared to speak out, compelled by his aura.

　　Falcone said, "Old Edward is dead, died at my son's bar mitzvah."

　　The ballroom of hundreds of people was as quiet as if nothing existed, and no one dared even breathe aloud as everyone pondered who had the audacity to rush into the Godfather's territory and smash it up.

　　Falcone took his cane and said: "Where is young Edward? Tell him to come and see me, his uncle died here and he has to come over here."

　　"Also, go to the police station and have them send someone over to investigate, Evans, you help me entertain the guests and don't make them feel neglected."

　　After that, Falcone gave his assistant Andy a look before turning to leave.

　　Bruce stood beside Schiller and asked him, "You saw that too, didn't you?"

　　"Yes, but it's nothing to do with me."

　　Bruce said, "It looks like Edward Jr. is winning and the situation at the docks is about to get messy."

　　"You think it was Edward Jr. who moved?"

　　"He was the one who profited the most, wasn't he?"

　　Schiller shook his head and said, "I think, more than anything, that the Edwards are the biggest losers, and with Edward Sr. dead, everyone will think it was his nephew who did it. And after what happened at the Bar Mitzvah of the Godfather's only son, it would not be too much for the Godfather to take revenge on the Edward family afterwards."

　　"You think Falcone set himself up?"

　　"He's more clever than you think, than you think."

Bruce glanced back at the banquet room, which had just been buzzing with activity, but was now completely deserted, most of the people had left, not daring to remain in the godfather's anger, and the remaining scraps looked even more forlorn in the light of the still brilliant lamps.

　　As Schiller intended to leave, it was the assistant at the Godfather's side who handed him back his umbrella, and Andy said, "I'm sorry, Professor, the Godfather asked me to pass on his apologies, we all didn't expect this to happen at the first party you were invited to."

　　"Yes, none of us expected it."

　　Schiller looked down at his umbrella, all the droplets of water on it had dried, he stood at the bottom of the porch and saw a group of men there at the side door of the public house carrying a box that was supposed to contain old Edward's body.

They had loaded the box into the car and, looking in the direction it was going out, his body would probably be thrown into the sea.

　　Schiller stood in the doorway for a while longer and soon the police lights flashed in the rainy night and the police car drove in, yes, that was the way it was in Gotham, they didn't wait for the police to arrive to dispose of a body.

　　Gordon arrived at another crime scene where there was no trace of either the victim or the killer, they had even wiped up the blood, but he was quite comfortable with it, methodically directing the few officers under his command and starting to wander around the washroom.

　　He, himself, neither worked on the case nor recorded it, but went to see Falcone, led by the others.

　　The outcome of this case did not depend on what had actually happened in the washroom, or what the police could actually find out, but only on the attitude of one man, Falcone, the host of the party.

　　That was the way it was in Gotham, when one gang member killed another, the police were in an awkward position, and Gordon understood this keenly; being a police officer in Gotham was much more about psychology than the way you solved a case.

　　After a while Evans came out with his umbrella, he hurried over in Schiller's direction and said, "Professor, I heard someone say you hadn't left yet, is there anything else you want to do?"

　　"No, nothing in particular, you know, I'm more interested in these cases."

　　Evans gave a somewhat embarrassed look and said, "Er ... it's just a small case, not a serial killer, but if you're interested, you can go in and have a look."

　　Schiller shook his head, but he handed Evans the umbrella he was holding and said, "Take it to the godfather for me."

　　Evans took the umbrella, feeling somewhat puzzled.

After Schiller left, Falcone took Schiller's black umbrella from Evans, saying, "It does seem that he will be one of your longest living tutors."

　　And sitting in the car on the return journey Schiller, listening to the rain beating on the windows, recalled the thin and timid umbrella boy, the guest who had gone in before him and teased the umbrella boy with a huge umbrella, none other than old Edward.

　　Schiller had just returned to his flat when he heard movement on the balcony where Batman was standing, and without turning around, Schiller said, "I'm going to investigate the case of Old Edward."

　　"Why? Gang banging each other is in your jurisdiction?"

　　"He used to be the head of Park Street."

　　Schiller didn't answer him, but Batman said to himself, "He knows who killed my parents."

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