Gordon's angry roar came from the office. The new police officers were trembling, and the more senior police officers were holding their hats down and leaning against the wall without saying a word.
"Is this how you handle cases?! Where are the witnesses? Where are the evidence? Where are the confessions?! There are none of these. Why do you call them suspects, and why do you lead the police to people's workplaces to cause trouble?!
"
Gordon threw the document in front of Clay with a livid face and said: "Congressman Delevingne just called me and said that my men had caused a big trouble. I didn't believe it at first, but you really gave me a
What a big surprise!”
Clay picked up the document and saw that it was a dismissal notice. The reason for dismissal was that he had made major mistakes during his employment.
In fact, he doesn't care, because his identity can be changed at any time, and naturally no one can see his true resume. What he cares about is other things.
"We found body parts in the suspect's house, and there were also witnesses who witnessed their murder scene. Isn't this evidence sufficient?"
Gordon closed his eyes and sighed, lifted up the back of his windbreaker and said: "The evidence is not used to convince yourself, nor is it used to convince us policemen, but is used to convince the people and the jury.
Group."
"Isn't this enough to convince the public? They may not understand the professional evidence reports issued by the Physical Evidence Section."
"Then can you explain to me what all these complaints are about?" Gordon threw another pile of documents in front of Clay.
Clay said without even looking: "They are making trouble unreasonably. Our evidence is very sufficient."
Gordon looked directly at Clay, and his intimidation at this time even prevented the strong police officer from confronting him to the end, but instead turned his eyes away first.
"Whether the real evidence is sufficient or the evidence you fabricated based on legal principles is sufficient, you and I both know."
"They are notorious serial murderers..."
"Before they are sent to prison, they are nothing. They are citizens of this city and are the objects that the police want to protect."
"I'm absolutely sure."
"Why can't you understand?!" Gordon roared again, "Criminal investigation is not a subject where you know the results in advance and can ignore the process and do whatever you want. What you need is evidence, complete evidence that can convince everyone.
chain!"
"The evidence you forged is full of loopholes. Even a slightly more professional person in the industry can see the loopholes. How dare you say that you are completely sure?!"
Gordon took a deep breath and said: "I don't care where you got the answers in advance, forget them and re-investigate the case. This is your last chance, otherwise I will have to sign this pink slip."
."
"But I can't give any more evidence in these cases."
Gordon smiled and said: "Another of your bosses swore to you that these people are brutal serial murderers. Have you ever thought about where his confidence comes from?"
Clay frowned and said as if mumbling to himself: "They can't have any flaws, there will always be loopholes..."
After saying that, he looked down at the dismissal notice and said: "I don't think you will need it anymore, Director, I will find their loopholes."
"But not with your method." Gordon shouted, "Brock, you and Officer Clay make sure he doesn't use any illegal search methods."
Clay's brows furrowed even more tightly, and he said, "You know this is impossible, if I don't have to..."
"Are you trying to tell me that you are an idiot who can't find out anything without illegal means? Where have you read all the books?"
Clay had nothing to say. He glanced at Gordon for the last time and turned around to leave. Bullock took a puff of cigarette and said, "I told you a long time ago that you can find a casual job to detain him. If you have to let him investigate the case, then
It’s ready.”
"Do you think his boss is stupid? If we find him a sinecure, they will just bring in more people. This is the price of order. You have to accept more foreign rules. I have thought of this day for a long time.
"
"But you didn't expect who he got into trouble with." Bullock smiled and said, "I guess a complaint letter came from Gotham University."
Gordon said with some suspicion: "Indeed, but wasn't it because Clay impulsively injured the new president of Gotham University?"
"Then you didn't ask under what circumstances he injured the new president of Gotham University?"
Gordon narrowed his eyes instantly, and he had an extremely bad feeling in his heart.
But no matter what, he couldn't let Clay affect the prestige that the police department had spent so much effort to establish, so his first job was to wipe Clay's butt.
Schiller came to the flea market in the East End. This was the market where thieves like Catwoman used to sell stolen goods. It has now become the largest second-hand trading market in Gotham.
Schiller is here to buy garden soil.
The big hole in his backyard was created by the explosion of the raven's magic power. The magic power directly eroded away all the soil, so even if Schiller knew how to fill the hole, he didn't have the materials and had to buy some soil.
??????????.??????
Besides, an empty patch of lawn didn't look good, so he had to buy some more grass seeds and some cultivation tools.
This flea market is so big that you can't see the edge at a glance. Even though it's still early, most of the vendors are still having breakfast, but they are still squatting next to the stalls to attract customers as much as possible.
Schiller saw some familiar people, the newsboy who used to deliver newspapers to him when he was at the West End Manor. He had grown up a lot and had a quite big stall.
Schiller walked up and found that he was selling used books and newspapers. Although the average person in Gotham has graduated from prenatal education, English is an alphabetic language. Knowing 26 letters is equivalent to literacy. Even people with little education can read.
, so these cheap old books, old comics, and old newspapers are very popular and are the first choice for people who cannot afford modern electronic devices to pass the time.
Schiller walked over and took a book and looked at it. He found that it was a cookbook, but it must have been a few years old. The illustrations on it were all images of housewives from the last century.
"Hey, sir, you are really discerning. This cookbook belongs to my mother...Professor Schiller? Why are you here?"
Schiller looked at him, sizing up this freckled boy who looked familiar but was completely different from what he remembered. In Schiller's memory, this little guy always followed his older brother. When he first came to the manor, Schiller looked at him.
, I couldn’t even reach the mailbox when I jumped up, and in a blink of an eye I was already a big kid.
The boy was very surprised and said: "Oh my god, you are here. How are you doing? Did the person who delivered the newspaper to you make any mistakes?"
"I've moved. This is my new address." Schiller took out a business card and handed it to the boy and said, "You can also give me an address and I will send you an invitation letter to the housewarming party."
"Really?" The boy immediately widened his eyes and said, "But I don't have any good clothes, maybe..."
"It's just an ordinary housewarming party. I also invited the Matthew brothers. Do you remember them?"
"Of course, they are delivering bread. They always refused to deal with us before. What did the two of them do?"
"Electricians, their work area happens to overlap with the community where I live. I saw their car parked outside before, so I went to say hello to them."
"It's amazing to learn a craft." The young man sighed: "Unlike me, when they asked me to go to a vocational school, I couldn't go. Now I can only set up a stall here to do second-hand business."
"It looks good." Schiller's eyes fell on the pack of cigarettes next to him. It was a pretty good cigarette at the bottom of Gotham, especially in this era when you can still afford such cigarettes.
It shows that his business is doing well.
The young man smiled shyly, scratched his head and said, "I can't compare to a gentleman like you, but if you send me an invitation, I will definitely choose the gift carefully."
"A cookbook is fine," Schiller said, "but it's best not to lie about it being your mother's recipe. That would be too false."
"Isn't that right? My stall is just to deceive outsiders. The locals all know that some of the stalls here are not orphans." The young man shrugged, not taking this seriously, and then his eyes began to look at himself.
I patrolled the stalls and seemed to want to choose the best recipe.
"Oh, by the way, there's something I want to ask you."
"What? Just ask." The young man leaned forward and lowered his voice and said, "I know that even in the West District, the tip for the newsboy will never be more than two dollars. Generous gentlemen like you are too rare. As long as you
If you want news, I have plenty here."
Schiller smiled and did not refuse his kindness, but said: "It's not important information. There was a case in our community a few days ago. Many police came. The person who died was a Mexican. I heard it was a vendetta. The murderer
I haven’t caught him yet.”
"I bought this house cheaply, but I don't want it to fall too much. If there is an unaccounted for serial killer wandering around, it won't be long before..."
"You want to find a Mexican?" The young man turned his eyes aside, thought for a moment and said, "I'm not Mexican, so I can't get into their circle, but I know who to look for."
The boy leaned forward a little more, pointed to the street corner and said, "Did you see that guy over there wearing a cactus hat and the stalls were all full of skulls? His name is Martinez, we all call him
Black Martin is the leader of Mexicans in this area and is well-known in the entire circle."
"This guy has a quick mind, and he's not as bad as others. He can handle both the underworld and the white. Even the police give him some face, and some Mexicans who are difficult to catch and get into trouble will ask him for help."
"Wouldn't he get in trouble for betraying his compatriots?"
"He is very smart. He helps the police catch those guys who are hated by everyone in the circle. Therefore, other people not only do not exclude him, but also complain to him about everything. You are right to find him."
The young man patted his chest and said, "I have a good relationship with him. During the previous music festival, his stall was occupied by someone, so I knocked over the trash can and spilled all over the unruly idiot. He remembered me for this."
For love, just tell me what I introduced you to."
Schiller smiled and said: "You don't need to introduce him. On the contrary, I want to introduce him to a big deal."
After speaking, Schiller walked towards the place pointed by the young man, and soon arrived at Martin's stall.