Of course, Boss Zhu is still stingy.
Especially those who are petty-minded. Such people are most likely to hold grudges, and what they discuss most is rejection!
In fact, before the task of developing torpedoes, "Special Product No. 13", was handed over to the 10th Research Laboratory, he tried to hire Robert Whitehead. But that guy had already become famous by then. He was a British company stationed in Austria-Hungary.
The branch manager of the Empire has been doing business with the Austro-Hungarian Navy all year round. Even the idea of making torpedoes came from cooperation with the Austro-Hungarian Navy. The guy who earns thousands of pounds this month is a proper upper class person and is very willing to accept
I rejected the offer from America 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 in a few years, and then concentrate its human and financial resources on improving it.
But now that Nanhua already has corresponding products, then...
"Dispose of it?"
Qian Zizhuang looked at the file and his brows jumped slightly. This was the first time he had received such a task.
"Yes!"
Zhu Xianhai nodded and said.
"You should study and see if there is any way. I mean the simplest way, which can solve some troubles quietly. Well, you can think of it as technical operation."
What is technical operation? To put it bluntly, it is to use technical means to let some troubles leave the world silently forever.
As for how to leave.
Then it depends on whether the investigation department has that capability.
The Investigation Department does not have it, but doctors do. Doctors can kill people, but they can also save people. And many times, it is easier to kill people than to save them!
In Vienna in January 1866, there were snowflakes in the air. Most of the pedestrians on the road were wearing black woolen coats and top hats. However, there were still many passers-by holding umbrellas. Only a few people did not hold umbrellas. That’s it.
Let the snowflakes fall on yourself.
Schlitz was standing on the side of the road with his collar turned up like this. He was dressed like an ordinary citizen, maybe even unemployed. The police officers who occasionally passed by didn't even look at him. Such a person would
There are many in Vienna.
Let alone him, there are more homeless people, and a few decades later, there will be a homeless art student who failed the exam.
Standing on the roadside, Schlitz looked quietly at the British people entering and exiting the building. These people seemed to be dressed differently from the Viennese people, but they were generally tall and looked aloof. They walked and talked to each other.
,in English.
Schlitz couldn't understand what they said, nor did he care about what they said. He was just looking for the target, and soon the target appeared in his sight. The person was talking to his colleagues, judging from his expression.
Look, he seems very happy, maybe he has 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 a while of action. When Schlitz left, Robert Whitehead looked across the street. He felt that someone seemed to be there before.
Watching him.
But there was no one on the other side.
In snowy weather, there were few pedestrians on the road. It was even more so at night because the temperature was very low. After entering the restaurant, like all carriage drivers, Hank parked the carriage, tied the horse, and went to the hotel. A small restaurant for coachmen, where they all dine.
On such a cold day, when Hank arrived at the small restaurant, of course he had to drink two drinks. There was no such thing as drunk driving in Europe in 1866. Even for the coachmen, getting drunk was the most common thing. Drinking in Hank's At that time, he did not know that someone had arrived at the carriage shed, and he started working beside the carriage under the dim light. In fact, he was not busy with anything. He just slightly adjusted the window of the charcoal stove in the back seat of the carriage carriage, that is, to open the ventilation hole. It was just sealed with ice and snow, and the charcoal in the charcoal stove was replaced.
It doesn't seem like this is a big deal.
A few hours later, after saying goodbye to the officers of the Admiralty, Robert Whitehead, who was already drunk, got into the carriage. As usual, the coachman put the charcoal stove under the back seat early and passed it through the iron window. The heat radiated makes the entire carriage feel warm.
Robert Whitehead, who felt quite comfortable, simply squinted his eyes. Today was a good day.
"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 a salary. For him, the commission on each transaction is the most important income. Of course, as an ambitious businessman, he has been conducting another study recently.
"The key is depth. How to control its depth and keep it sailing at a fixed depth is the most important thing..."
While talking to himself, Robert Whitehead felt a little tired and slowly fell asleep. Everything was so quiet.
More than an hour later, when Hank opened the door, he smelled a strange smell along with the heat wave, a strong smell of charcoal.
"Sir, sir..."
Looking at the sleeping Robert Whitehead, Hank suddenly felt an ominous feeling in his heart.
"Sir, come quickly, come here, help me, help me..."
As he shouted, Schlitz ran over, like an ordinary enthusiastic passerby.
"What's wrong? Do you need any help?"
"I don't know. Mr. Robert Whitehead may have been poisoned by charcoal. Can you help me carry him down?"
When dragging Robert Whitehead out of the car, Schlitz checked his pulse and found that he was not breathing at all!
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 car and found the charcoal stove vent blocked by ice and snow, they made a judgment.
"Madam, this was an accident. Mr. Robert Whitehead was poisoned by charcoal. In winter, this is normal. When the weather is so cold, no one knows when the snow will block the vents."
This is an accident!
This was enough. In fact, Robert Whitehead was a very ordinary person in Vienna. No one thought there was anything strange about his death. A few days later, Mrs. Whitehead took Robert Whitehead to the house. Germany's coffin left Vienna and returned to England...
This chapter has been completed!