PFC Chapter 4479 The Darkest Night (7)
Chapter 4479 The Darkest Night (7)
Chapter 4479 The Darkest Night (Part 7)
"For years, this city had broken free of darkness and seen the light of day again. But when night fell, Gotham was once again immersed in that impenetrable darkness, as if it had returned to that secretive and cruel era overnight. When I heard the news of yet another murder, I rushed out, the air currents I created as I threw on my coat could have reached the Atlantic. But Rodriguez was still the same; he stood in the light outside the Green Street office, the lines of his coat hanging straight down, reminding me of the old fountain pen that used to be kept in its gun case. Undoubtedly, the news had made him even more weary; what a difficult night it had been, but dawn always comes. I thought this, but didn't say it aloud, lest I disturb his dozing in the car, or as he pieced together the threads of the case in his mind."
Schiller leaned over and glanced at the paper in Victor's hand, and Victor even raised an eyebrow at him smugly. Schiller turned his head somewhat helplessly, and then said, "Let's make a bet."
"What are you gambling?"
Who is the dead person?
"That's rather disrespectful to the deceased."
"But it can add some fun to the story."
“Then I bet it was Perlotta who died.” Victor thought for a moment and said, “There’s a high probability that Milos is the murderer. Perlotta probably knew something, so she was silenced.”
“Then I’ll bet it isn’t,” Schiller said. “Of course, you’d better not secretly exchange our answers in your writing after the truth comes out.”
“Of course not,” Victor said. “Detectives are the smart ones, while assistants just need to ask silly questions.”
“Perhaps you can do it the other way around,” Schiller said. “Because I really can’t come up with any decent reasoning, you can do that part.”
"Please, that makes no sense... Okay, I'll give it a try. But I don't know much about behavioral analysis; I can only try to reason as much as possible. Maybe I should find someone more capable."
As they spoke, the car stopped in front of Gotham University. Standing at the gate, one could vaguely see the spire of the clock tower piercing the clouds, like a knife cutting through the deep, obscure fog. The thick, dense clouds resembled the sea, and the snow was like schools of fish in the icy water; the city's night always seemed to hang upside down.
As I walked inside, police cars were gathered there as usual. Brainiac had locked the dormitory doors, and the students were all safely inside. Therefore, the building was relatively quiet.
Gordon stood at the entrance of the stairwell. Seeing them approach, he turned around, gently smoothed the hem of his trench coat, and said, "The one who died was a girl from room 312. Does anyone know her?"
“God!” Jenna rushed forward. Gordon looked her up and down, then said, “Were you dragged here from the ball?”
Jenner's sequined red dress stood out starkly in the darkness. The night was deep, the snow pristine white, but both black and white were clearly distinct from the red.
"This isn't the time for this!" Jenna shoved him aside and rushed into the house, her exclamation soon echoing, "Fanny!"
Barry rushed up too, but he didn't go in; he just stood in the doorway. Jenna then ran out quickly, grabbed the doorframe, and said, "It was Fanny who died, my other roommate."
Victor glanced back at Schiller, but still stepped forward and asked, "Which department is she in?"
“Chemistry,” Jenna said. “Her professor is Jonathan Klein.”
"God," Victor couldn't help but exclaim.
Barry had reached the bedside. This was clearly a crime scene, and the killer made no attempt to cover it up. A young woman lay on the bed near the door, a knife protruding from her chest, blood staining the bed and floor. Her face was pale, her limbs stiff; she had obviously been dead for some time.
"Why is she in your bed?" Barry turned to Jenna and asked.
"How did you know that was her bed?" Victor asked instinctively.
Schiller tugged at his arm, and Victor coughed. Jenna reached out and put her hand on her other shoulder, saying somewhat helplessly, "He's my dance partner. After we finished dancing, he came back with me to get my things, and I showed him around my dorm room."
"You haven't graduated yet?" Victor asked.
“Actually, no, it's more like an internship.” Barry was clearly distracted. He looked at Jenna's bed and then said, “Does she usually sleep here?”
“Um…” Jenna pursed her lips, then said, “Fanny isn’t very boundary-conscious. Because I don’t often stay in the dorm, and she thinks the bed near the door is better, so…”
“None of your roommates are easy to deal with,” Victor said. Then he pulled out his phone and said to Brainiac, “Keep Jonathan Klein out of his nature reserve, or else…”
"Sorry, he's already here."
A thin figure appeared at the top of the stairs. Jonathan's face turned extremely pale when he saw the corpse on the bed. He turned around and looked around, his gaze finally settling on Schiller.
"'You're always at murder scenes,' Professor Klein's accusation was sharp. 'No more than you,' Rodriguez's response was equally characteristic, with a touch of cold, dark humor. 'Especially as the murderer.' That hit the nail on the head. The two of them were old rivals, as we later reminisced. The Mawson Street murders—major cases of the dark ages, in which James Gordon was also implicated. The three of them coming together made the atmosphere in the hallway somber, as if we were briefly transported back to that era. I had no intention of watching the drama unfold, but I knew I would be like the Christmas tree at the ball, everything that followed revolving around me, but having nothing to do with me in the real sense."
Schiller glanced at Victor, who was still writing furiously, and sighed softly. He looked at Jonathan and said, "If you don't want to play a Moriarty-like role in an upcoming, globally popular detective novel, then don't argue with me here."
“Are you starting to ramble?” Jonathan squinted at him and said, “You think you’re acting as a detective, but to me, you look more like the murderer who keeps returning to the crime scene.”
“That’s a theory that’s already been debunked. At least, the killers would return to the crime scene not out of smugness, but simply out of fear.” Schiller glanced around the room and then turned to look at Jenna.
Jenna jolted awake; certain fragments flashed through her mind like an electric current, sending shivers down her spine.
“He wanted to kill me,” Jenna said. “The killer didn’t want to kill Fanny, he wanted to kill me.”
Everyone turned to look at her. Jenna put one hand on Barry's shoulder, lifted the hem of her skirt to look at herself from left to right, and then said, "Maybe I shouldn't have worn this dress."
“You guys are really confusing me,” Victor said. “Can you stop playing games? Someone step forward and tell us what’s going on.”
“I’ll do it,” Jenna said. “I didn’t have class this afternoon and was supposed to go to dance practice. But Amanda called me away, which took up my afternoon. Barry did the same. So everyone else was almost done practicing before we got to the activity room.”
"As you know, I'm not from Earth, and I've never participated in any decent social activities before. I'm not a very good dancer, so I need a lot of practice to get by. Because I didn't want to embarrass myself, the two of us practiced in the activity room until after 1 a.m. And because I had to go back to work overtime, I didn't even have time to change my clothes before I got back to Green Avenue."
"This dress is beautiful, isn't it? I don't often wear such bright colors, and it has sequins and jewels on it. It's incredibly eye-catching on the street, and people will easily see it."
“I was just about to say that,” Gordon said, arms crossed. “In sub-zero weather, you’re wearing a sundress. Miss, aren’t you cold?”
Victor then realized something was amiss. They were all bundled up in heavy coats and scarves, completely covered up. Jenna, on the other hand, was wearing a red sundress, her arms and half her back exposed. The temperature was below zero, and even though it was warmer inside the dorm, she didn't seem cold after getting out of the car.
Jenna said somewhat helplessly, "I told you, I'm an alien. Our species' habitable temperature range is -30 degrees Celsius to 50 degrees Celsius, which is why we're not as fragile as humans."
Everyone fell silent. Barry seemed to understand what had happened, and said, "I should have reminded you to wear a jacket."
"Why don't you two go together and use the Speed Force?" Gordon asked again.
“My Speed Force isn’t really suitable for carrying people,” Barry said. “It’s not that I can’t carry people at all, but it’s best not to carry them unless it’s an emergency. Going back to work overtime isn’t that urgent, so I might as well drive.”
“Okay.” Gordon lifted the hem of his trench coat, put his hands in his pockets, looked at Jenna, and said, “You mean, because you were dressed too conspicuously, you were seen on your way home. What does that have to do with this case?”
"He stole what I was going to say. That's not good news. But the detective's assistant can still contribute to the report. I was going to jot down my thoughts, which were still a bit scattered at the time, but when I started writing, they were much clearer: the key wasn't who saw Miss Jenna, but who Miss Jenna saw. Or rather, the guilty murderer thought Miss Jenna saw him. So, when he returned to school, he chose to go to Miss Jenna's dorm room and kill her. But this lucky girl didn't stay in the dorm; she had to go to some secret agency to work overtime. So another unlucky girl took her place and left us forever."
“Milos, it must be him.” Jenna stepped forward and said, “He set off from school to kill Chick. But it just so happened that I was leaving after dance practice. I was dressed very conspicuously, and when he saw me, he assumed I had seen him too. When he returned to school after killing Chick, he felt uneasy and came to my dorm room to kill me.”
"Did you really see him?"
"Of course not. Otherwise, I would have brought it up immediately."
“Then you must be quite far apart,” Jonathan continued. “How could he be sure it was you?”
“Because in this cold weather, there’s no one else who would wear such thin clothes,” Jenna said. “I’ve heard Perrotta say bad things about me before. She described me as ‘that freak who almost froze into an ice sculpture just to be pretty.’ She said it more than once, and to more than one person. Milos is her boyfriend now, so maybe she’ll say the same thing to him.”
"Why would he come to your dorm to find you?" Gordon asked again. "How could he be sure you'd come back?"
“Because I did go back to my dorm,” Jenna said. “I told him before that I was going back to my dorm to get something. After we left the activity room, my dorm was the first place we went to, and I left after getting my things. He must have seen me walking in the direction of my dorm.”
“If that’s the case, then it’s clearly a tragic coincidence.” Gordon looked at the body on the bed, sighed, and said, “The killer wanted to kill you, but this girl took your bed, so she died.”