PFC Chapter 3844 The Nameless Bat (4)
Chapter 3844 The Nameless Bat (4)
Chapter 3844 The Nameless Bat (XIV)
“Hello, Mr. Stagg.” Schiller stepped forward and shook hands with the young man in front of him. The man was a bit too young, looking like he had just graduated from university. He was wearing a turtleneck sweater and black-rimmed glasses, and didn’t look like a group leader at all.
However, considering that his uncle Simon Stagg was sentenced to more than 200 years in prison for conspiring with Scarecrow to carry out terrorist attacks in Gotham, it is normal for him to step in so hastily.
While the Starger Corporation has a biopharmaceutical division, like Wayne Enterprises, its business scope is very broad. Finance is also considered one of its pillar industries. Although the biopharmaceutical division was shut down, it didn't affect the operation of other departments. These kinds of conglomerates that can establish themselves in Gotham are deeply entrenched and not easily touched.
“I’m very sorry for Abidonis’s death,” Stagg said. “We did talk at a party a few minutes ago, but that was it, and we haven’t been in contact since. So I’m afraid I can’t help with that case.”
"No rush, Mr. Stagg. I just have a few routine questions to ask you. Won't you offer me a seat?"
Stagg had no choice but to lead him to a sofa in the reception area. Schiller glanced at the ashtray, seemingly casually.
"Before I came up, the lady at the front desk told me you had an appointment. I'm sorry for my unannounced visit and for disturbing your business."
"It's alright, Detective. Please ask me any questions."
"What do you know about Abedonis?"
"In fact, I'm a complete stranger to him. I haven't been in charge of the group for long, and I don't even know all the people in my own group, let alone Wayne Group. Besides, he's in charge of the information security department, so I can't talk to him too much to avoid any appearance of impropriety. I really don't know much more."
What did you talk about at that party?
“It’s about the president’s new policies,” Stagg said, adjusting his glasses. “The president’s moves on the East Coast have been a bit big, and everyone here is complaining. He brought it up, and I chimed in with a few complaints. That’s all.”
"I see. But he works for Wayne Enterprises, so why would he complain about President Wayne's policies?"
“I’m not too sure about that, but I heard he has investments on Diamond Street. The new policies may have affected the returns on those investments.” Stagg seemed very honest. He said, “I heard that Mrs. Abedonis is a professional manager, so it’s perfectly normal for her to give him some investment advice.”
"You may not know this, but the prime suspect in Mr. Abidonis's murder is his wife."
“Oh, God,” Stagg exclaimed, “Have they broken up?”
“I’m afraid it’s not just a breakdown in the relationship,” Schiller said, shaking his head slightly. “Their five-year-old daughter mentioned that they had an argument about a certain fund before the murder.”
Schiller keenly noticed that Stagg's fingertips twitched. Schiller sighed softly and said, "To be honest, the president is bound to be angry about what happened. Even if he's too busy with diplomatic affairs to deal with it right now, he'll definitely settle the score later."
"Financial policies are already tight, and if something like this happens again, the president will probably be even more convinced that finance is harming the country, and thus introduce more policies that won't benefit Diamond Street. I think you probably don't want to see that happen, do you, sir?"
"What do you mean?"
"One professional manager isn't enough to appease the president's anger. If we don't want Diamond Street to suffer the same fate, we'd better put forward someone more influential. We can't let the FBI do all that work and only catch a small fry, can we?"
Stagg's fingers twitched incessantly, as if he were deep in thought. He said, "You're trying to catch a big fish to earn merit?"
"To be honest, I did mean that. The FBI recently underwent a major purge, which created many vacancies. And this incident involves the President's hometown, so it took a lot of effort for me to make this trip. I don't want to go back empty-handed, and neither do my subordinates. Even if I wanted to classify this as a simple murder case, they wouldn't agree."
Staghler sat there thinking. He said, "You want to use his daughter's testimony to find a more influential person on Diamond Street to take the blame and help the president curb the arrogance of Diamond Street."
"Yes. If you ask me, this matter definitely won't be traced back to you, and there's no way Staghel will be the scapegoat. However, the president may not think that way."
Staghel opened his eyes slightly and stared intently at Schiller, saying, "What do you mean? What is the president thinking?"
“As you know, your uncle and Scarecrow teamed up to carry out a terrorist attack, almost poisoning the entire city. The president is already quite dissatisfied with the Staghlal Group. And you are too young to control those restless shareholders. It’s like ‘taking advantage of their weakness.’ The president might want to use this case to pin the blame on you and get rid of Staghlal.”
“This won’t do!” Stagh said through gritted teeth. “I don’t even know this Abidonis! He can’t frame me!”
“You know he can,” Schiller said calmly. “I don’t need to elaborate on how many large corporations he’s taken down since he came to power. How many times have they thought they could bring him down, and yet they’ve all failed?”
“Like I said, you’re very young,” Schiller said in a lower voice. “The president is young too. He’s had enough of those inflexible old fogies. He needs fresh blood, he needs strong young knights to protect his rule. People like us are exactly what he needs. As long as we can climb up to his nose and get his support, who else do we need to be beholden to?”
Stagg clenched his fist slightly and said, "What do you want me to do?"
"No rush. First, tell me who just visited you."
“Lex Luther,” Stagg said. “The head of the Luther Group. He came to me wanting the Stagg Group to invest in one of his recently established hedge funds. You came too quickly; I didn’t get a chance to talk to him in detail and I’m not entirely sure what’s going on. But he’s very determined, so he hasn’t left yet.”
“Okay. I hope you’ll tell him later that the investment can be discussed, but because the FBI is going to inspect this building, you’ll need to go to a more private place. You’ll send a car to pick him up and take him to your estate later.”
Stagg frowned slightly and said, "Why would you do that?"
"Don't worry about that," Schiller said, gently shaking his head.
He glanced out the window. A faint, inconspicuous light flashed from the rooftop of the building across the street. Gotham lacked strong sunlight, so the glint of light from the small mirror was barely perceptible. Schiller wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't deliberately timed his glance precisely.
Schiller stood up and said, “Tell me a minor floor, and I’ll pretend to search the building.”
“Let’s go to the third floor; there are restaurants and bars there,” Stagg said.
“Perfect.” Schiller nodded to him and left the room.
Shortly after he left, another figure in a suit and tie entered the room. He was wearing a sharp suit, his shoes were polished to a shine, he was bald, but his features were still quite handsome, and his expression was a half-smile, revealing an air of confidence.
“Hello, Mr. Luther. I’m actually quite interested in the fund you mentioned, but unfortunately, now is not the right time to talk. That damn agent insists on investigating in the building.”
Stagg feigned reluctance and said, "Actually, I'm quite interested in learning about hedge funds, given the new policies... How about this, let's discuss it in detail at my hillside estate?"
Luther nodded. "I'll go get the car ready," Stagg said.
“No need,” Luther said. “I’ll prepare the car. There’s a lot of confidential information about this fund, so it’s best to travel in a secure vehicle.”
Stagg frowned slightly; it was actually a very impolite suggestion. The other party seemed to completely distrust him. However, the Stagg Corporation couldn't afford to offend the Luther Corporation at this point. Besides, remembering what Agent Rodriguez had said earlier, he decided to exercise restraint.
"No problem, Mr. Luther. Shall we go straight to the underground parking lot?"
"No, go to the main gate. My security vehicle isn't parked in the underground parking lot; it's parked in another parking lot nearby."
Stagg clenched his fists in anger. If before it was just distrust, now it was blatant provocation.
You prepared security vehicles, but you kept parking them in my building's parking lot? Isn't that a clear indication that you're worried I'll tamper with your security vehicles? That's outrageous!
Stagg took a deep breath and silently endured it. He said, "Okay, let's go to the gate."
The two took the elevator to the company's main gate. But as soon as they stepped outside, they saw many police officers standing by the roadside, some issuing tickets, some inspecting cars, and some arguing with car owners.
Stagg was bewildered: "Have these patrol officers lost their minds? They dare to come to Diamond Street to check for illegal parking?"
But he soon realized something was wrong. The cars around him with tickets were indeed illegally parked. Both sides of the road were completely blocked by parked cars, with many cars having to park next to the cars on either side. The original two lanes had been reduced to one lane.
Stagg heard a man in a suit yelling at a patrol officer: "Why was I illegally parked?! You tell me why I illegally parked?! I was on my way to deliver a multi-billion dollar tender and couldn't find a single parking space on Diamond Street. If I didn't park here and get back upstairs, would you make up for the job I lost?!"
Nearby, other drivers stuck in traffic were cursing: "What are you all doing? So many police officers and you still can't clear the traffic?! I pay millions in taxes every year..."
"Looks like your security vehicle won't be arriving anytime soon," Stagg said to Luther with a hint of schadenfreude. But he noticed Luther's expression was rather unpleasant.
Suddenly, a faint, inconspicuous light flashed. Luther's eyes widened instantly, and he quickly retreated into the hall, shoving aside the reception desk behind the counter and hiding behind it himself.
Standing there bewildered, Stagg looked around but saw no danger. He then walked to the counter, tapped on the table, and asked, "Mr. Luther, what's wrong? Are you alright? Should I call an ambulance for you?"
“Shut up! You damn idiot!” Luther cursed.
Meanwhile, Schiller, who was looking out of the bar window on the third floor at the traffic jam below, dialed the fire department.
"Hello? Diamond Street Fire Station? It seems a smoke alarm at the Navigator Building has been triggered. Haven't you received any notification?"
Schiller walked to the doorway of the bar's kitchen as he spoke, lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and exhaled the smoke, saying, "Yes, I also think it might have been an accidental touch..."
Beep—beep—beep—!
The piercing siren of the smoke alarm could penetrate more than ten stories. Simultaneously, the fire department's sirens blared. As Gotham's most bustling and economically valuable street, Diamond Street boasted the best firefighters and the most comprehensive firefighting equipment. Fully armed firefighters grabbed their gear and boarded their vehicles, speeding along with the piercing fire alarms—only to be blocked at the entrance to Diamond Street.
The moment he heard the smoke alarm, Luther's face turned ashen. And listening to the fire alarm that kept screaming on the street corner without getting any closer, he slammed his fist on the table.
"Damn Bruce Wayne, you really did want to kill me!!!"