The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman.

Chapter 2565: Xiao Xiao Down (Forty-nine)

"What the hell! What the hell is going on?!"

Gordon's angry roar came from the office. The new police officers were trembling, and the police officers with slightly more experience held their hats down and leaned 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?! Without these, what right do you have to call them suspects? And why do you bring the police to disrupt someone's workplace?!"

Gordon threw the document in front of Clay with a sullen face and said, "Senator Draven just called me and said that my men had gotten into big trouble. I didn't believe it at first, but you really gave me a big surprise!"

Clay picked up the document and saw that it was actually a notice of dismissal. The reason for dismissal was that he had made serious mistakes during his tenure.

In fact, he doesn't care, because his identity can be changed at any time, and naturally no one can see his real resume. What he cares about is other things.

"We found body parts in the suspect's house, and there were also eyewitnesses who witnessed their murder. Isn't this sufficient evidence?"

Gordon closed his eyes and sighed, lifted the back of his windbreaker and said, "Evidence is not used to convince yourself, nor to convince us police officers, but to convince the public and the jury."

"Isn't this enough to convince the public? They may not even understand the professional evidence reports issued by the Physical Evidence Department."

"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 at it: "They are making trouble for no reason. Our evidence is already very sufficient."

Gordon stared at Clay. His intimidation at this moment even prevented the strong police officer from confronting him to the end, and he turned his eyes away first.

"Whether the real evidence is sufficient or the evidence fabricated by you based on legal principles is sufficient, you and I both know."

"They are notorious serial killers..."

"Before they were sent to prison, they were nothing. They were citizens of this city and they were the people the police were supposed to protect."

"I'm pretty sure."

"Why can't you understand?!" Gordon roared again, "Criminal investigation is not a subject where you can ignore the process and do whatever you want just because you know the result in advance. What you need is evidence, a complete chain of evidence that can convince everyone!"

"Even the evidence you forged is full of loopholes. Even a professional in the industry can see the loopholes. How dare you say that you are absolutely sure?!"

Gordon took a deep breath and said, "I don't care where you got the answers in advance. Forget them and start over. This is your last chance, or I will have to sign this dismissal letter."

"But I can give no further evidence in these cases."

Gordon smiled and said, "Your other boss swore to you that this group of people are brutal serial killers. Have you ever thought about where his confidence comes from?"

Clay frowned and muttered to himself, "It's impossible for them to be flawless. There will always be loopholes..."

He then looked down at the pink slip and said, "I don't think you'll need it, Chief. I'll find them a loophole."

"But you can't use your method." Gordon shouted, "Brock, you and Officer Clay, make sure he doesn't use any illegal search methods."

Clay frowned even more and said, "You know this is impossible. If I don't use..."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're an idiot who can't find out anything without illegal means? Where did all your books go?"

Clay had nothing to say. He took one last look at Gordon and turned away. Bullock took a puff of his cigarette and said, "I told you long ago that you should just find him a sinecure. Why did you insist on letting him investigate the case? Now you know what's going on."

"Do you think his superiors are stupid? If we find him a sinecure, they will just stuff more people in. This is the price of order. You have to accept more external rules. I have thought about this day a long time ago."

"But you didn't expect him to get into trouble with someone." Bullock smiled and said, "I guess there was a letter of complaint from Gotham University."

Gordon said doubtfully, "Indeed, but wasn't it because Clay impulsively injured the new president of Gotham University?"

"Then didn't you ask him under what circumstances he injured the new president of Gotham University?"

Gordon narrowed his eyes instantly, and he had a very bad premonition in his heart.

But no matter what, he couldn't let Clay affect the prestige that the police station had spent so much effort to build up, so his first job was to clean up Clay's mess.

Schiller came to the flea market in the East District, which was the market where thieves like Catwoman used to sell their stolen goods. Now it has become the largest second-hand trading market in the entire Gotham.

Schiller was here to buy garden soil.

The big hole in his backyard was caused by the explosion of Raven's magic. The magic directly eroded 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, it would not look good to have an empty patch of lawn, so he had to buy some grass seeds and some tools for cultivation.

This flea market is so large that it stretches as far as the eye can see. Even though it is still early and most of the vendors are still having breakfast, they are all squatting next to their stalls trying to attract as many customers as possible.

Schiller saw some familiar faces. They were the newsboys who used to deliver newspapers to him when he was in the West End Manor. He had grown up a lot and had a big stall.

Schiller walked up to him and found that he was selling old books and newspapers. Although the average person in Gotham graduated from prenatal education, English is an alphabetic language and knowing the 26 letters is equivalent to literacy. Even people who have not received much education can read. Therefore, these cheap old books, old comics, and old newspapers are very popular and are the first choice for those who cannot afford modern electronic devices to kill time.

Schiller walked over, picked up a book and looked at it. He found it was a cookbook, but it must be quite old. The illustrations on it were all images of housewives from the last century.

"Hey, sir, you have a good eye. This cookbook belongs to my mother... Professor Schiller? Why are you here?"

Schiller looked at him, sizing up this freckled boy who looked somewhat familiar but was completely different from the one he remembered. In Schiller's memory, this little guy always followed behind his older brother. When he first came to the manor, he couldn't reach the mailbox even if he jumped. In the blink of an eye, he had become a big boy.

The boy was very surprised. He said, "Oh my God, you are here. How are you doing? Is there anything wrong with the person who delivered the newspaper to you?"

"I moved, this is my new address." Schiller took out a business card and handed it to the boy, saying, "You can also give me an address, and I will send you an invitation 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 had a problem with us. Where are they going?"

"The electricians, their work area just happened 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 really great to learn a craft." The boy sighed, "Unlike me, when they asked me to go to a vocational school, I refused because I thought it was boring. Now I can only set up a stall here to do second-hand business."

"Looks good." Schiller's eyes fell on the pack of cigarettes next to him. Those were considered pretty good cigarettes for the lower class in Gotham. Especially in this era, being able to afford such cigarettes meant that he was doing well in business.

The boy smiled shyly, scratched his head and said, "I can't compare with a gentleman like you, but if you send me an invitation, I will definitely choose a gift carefully."

“A cookbook is fine,” Schiller said. “But don’t pretend it’s your mother’s cookbook. That’s fake.”

"That's right. My stall is to deceive outsiders. Local people all know that there are few people selling things here who are not orphans." The boy shrugged and didn't take it seriously. Then he began to look around his stall, as if he wanted to pick out the best cookbook.

"Oh, by the way, there is something I want to ask you."

"What? Just ask." The boy leaned forward and lowered his voice, "I know that even in the West Side, the tip for a newsboy is definitely less than two dollars. Gentlemen like you are rare. If you want news, I have plenty of it."

Schiller smiled and did not reject his kindness. Instead, he said, "It's not important intelligence. There was a case in our community a few days ago. Many police officers came. The dead person was a Mexican. I heard it was a revenge killing. The murderer has not been caught yet."

"I didn't buy this house expensively, but I don't want it to drop in value too much. If there's still an unpunished serial killer roaming around, it won't be long before..."

"You want to find a Mexican?" The boy looked away, thought for a moment and said, "I'm not Mexican, so I can't get into their circle, but I know who can help."

The boy leaned forward a little, pointed to the corner and said, "See that guy over there wearing a cactus hat and with skulls all over his stall? His name is Martinez. We all call him Black Martin. He's the leader of the Mexicans in this area and he's very famous in the whole circle."

"This guy is smart and not as bad as the others. He is well connected with both the black and white gangs. Even the police give him some respect. Some Mexicans who are hard to catch and have caused trouble will ask him for help."

"Won't he be in trouble for betraying his compatriots?"

"He's very smart. He helps the police catch those people who are hated by everyone in the circle. So other people not only don't exclude him, but also complain to him about everything. You can't go wrong by finding 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 overturned the trash can and spilled garbage all over that unruly idiot. He remembers my favor, so you can just say that I introduced him to him."

Schiller smiled and said, "You don't need to introduce him. On the contrary, I want to introduce him to a big order."

After saying that, Schiller walked towards the direction the boy pointed, and soon arrived at Martin's stall.