Chapter 752

In a room at the Gotham Grand Theatre, opposite Schiller, sat the theatre troupe's manager, a man with a gloomy expression, who introduced himself:

"I am Andwor, owner of the Angelica Troupe. Angelica was my great-grandmother's name; my grandfather founded this troupe under her name. We started as a small company, but by my father's generation, the Angelica Troupe had gained widespread fame."

"I've managed this troupe for over twenty years. We've toured the entire East Coast, even some western cities, but we've never encountered anything as dangerous as this…"

The troupe manager sighed deeply. "Days before the performance, one of our lead actresses died. That's a bad omen. We've already distributed our program all over town—if we postpone now…"

Schiller placed his hands on the table, fingers interlaced, and looked at the manager. "I'm sorry, but may I ask—what led you to choose Gotham for your performance?"

"It was my grandfather's dream. He wanted his troupe to conquer the entire East Coast—and Gotham was the only city left. We needed to deliver a perfect performance here. But who knew…"

Schiller nodded. But Gotham was just like that: the more you hoped something wouldn't happen, the more likely it was to happen.

"Let's talk about the deceased. I've heard of Miss Vicki. Did she have any enemies in the troupe? Or anyone she was close to?"

The manager rubbed his hands nervously. Schiller pressed on: "The person is dead now. Whatever relationships she had in life no longer matter. If there were secrets, you don't need to protect them anymore."

The manager hesitated, then said: "Vicki was well-liked. She had no enemies. Many of the female actors adored her, and the Ma Lei actors were awed by her beauty and talent."

"As for intimate relationships… well, as outsiders suspected, she and Alex were lovers. But they never wanted to make it public. Most in the troupe didn't know. I happened to catch them once—I promised to keep it secret…"

Schiller took notes, nodded, and asked: "Then what about those few people who weren't from the troupe?"

"Oh, right," the manager replied. "In the East Coast theatre circuit, before a show, backstage visits are allowed. Those interested in the play can come meet the actors."

"When they see the actors and the sets, they often go home and tell friends or family, sparking interest in the play. It's a way to sell tickets."

The manager spoke bluntly: "Yesterday, Mrs. Goth called our troupe. She said she was a passionate theatre lover and wanted to visit backstage today to meet the lead actress. I agreed."

"But I didn't expect her to bring so many people—her daughter, a shipping merchant named Witt, Witt's son, and that fat man Leon. I didn't like so many strangers backstage, but I still welcomed her politely. After all, Mrs. Goth is influential."

"Is that so? What business is she in?" Schiller asked.

At that moment, Gordon spoke up from beside them: "The Goth family originally made their fortune in shipping. But since Mrs. Goth took over, they've moved into shipbuilding. In Gotham, besides the Wayne family's two shipyards, the Goth family is the only other major player."

"So what's the relationship between Mrs. Goth and Mr. Witt?" Schiller asked.

Gordon flipped through his notes. "According to prior interrogations, Miss Goth and young Witt are lovers. Witt came to Gotham this time specifically to assess the Goth family's capabilities."

"In short, the Witt family could become a major client for the Goth shipyards, since their shipping operations require a constant stream of cargo vessels. Both Mr. Witt and Mrs. Goth know this—so there's a strong inclination toward a marriage alliance."

Schiller nodded, signaling he understood, then stood. "Let's go to the crime scene."

The troupe manager was led away by another officer for further questioning. Gordon and Schiller headed toward the room where Miss Vicki had died—when suddenly, footsteps sounded behind them.

Schiller turned and saw the officer bringing Bruce up the stairs. He said: "You're back so soon? Don't you want to rest a little longer?"

Bruce shook his head. His expression had returned to normal, no longer vacant as before. Though still tired, his spirits had improved considerably.

"What did Selina want?" Schiller asked as the three walked toward the room.

"Dick wanted to come home from school, but since neither I nor Alfred were there, the phone at Wayne Manor wouldn't connect. So his teacher called Selina—she picked him up."

"I thought it was something serious," Gordon said, pushing open the door. "Turns out you just forgot to pick up your kid after school."

The three entered the room. Vicki's body had been removed. Gordon stood beside the chalk outline and said: "The forensic report should arrive in about ten minutes. Until then, we can examine the scene."

Before Vicki's body was carried away, Schiller had already examined the wound.

The wound was unremarkable: a sharp object had pierced her left chest, shattering her heart—fatal on impact. No other injuries were present.

Schiller turned to Bruce. "What did you see?"

"I was downstairs…" Bruce walked to the window, pointing to the lower-left corner. "Right there."

"I looked up and saw a figure. She tapped the glass twice, then fell. I saw blood on her hands where they touched the glass."

"I wanted to save her, so I climbed up the drainpipe. When I reached the balcony, I found the window locked. I pulled on it hard twice."

Bruce opened the window and stepped onto the balcony, mimicking his movements. Since the lock was already broken, no loud noise was made—but Schiller and Gordon understood his actions perfectly.

"When I first climbed up, my eyes hadn't adjusted to the room's bright lights. As I looked inside, I glimpsed a dark shadow. When I pulled the window and made noise, he panicked and ran off."

Schiller narrowed his eyes. "A shadow? You didn't notice any physical details at all?"

"I wasn't in good condition," Bruce paused. "So I didn't look closely."

Schiller and Gordon exchanged glances. It was the first time they'd ever heard Batman say the words "not in good condition."

Usually, Batman never spoke about his own state—even if injured, bleeding, or incapacitated, he'd only offer a string of strategies.

"According to you, Miss Vicki was still able to move before she died—even had enough strength to tap the glass. That doesn't seem like something a person with a shattered heart could do." Schiller noted the inconsistency.

"A fatal penetrating wound causes immediate, excruciating pain. It would instantly disable any resistance. Not just an actress like Miss Vicki, accustomed to luxury—but even a trained adult agent would likely lose mobility from such an injury."

Gordon rubbed his chin. "So… when she tapped the window, her wound might not have been that severe yet? Could someone have inflicted a secondary injury?"

"It's possible. Don't forget—the wound was a penetrating one. Penetrating wounds are the most prone to secondary damage."

Gordon frowned, not immediately grasping what Schiller meant—until Schiller lifted his umbrella and pointed it at Gordon.

Instantly, the room's lights dimmed. The floor beneath Gordon and Schiller became a circular platform, rotating sixty degrees. Gordon now stood by the window; Schiller faced him directly.

Schiller's umbrella shed its canopy and ribs, transforming into a long, sharp sword. He gripped the hilt, stepped forward, and drove the blade through Gordon's chest.

Gordon staggered back two steps, instinctively clutching his chest—his hands soaked in blood, agony surging through him. Facing a ruthless killer, his instinct screamed to flee.

But the killer stood directly between him and the door. He stumbled, turned, and reached the window, pounding on the glass for help—leaving bloody handprints.

【Honestly, recently I've been reading novels on Yeguo Reading—switching sources, multiple voice options, works on both Android and iOS.】

Then Schiller stepped forward again, grabbed Gordon's shoulder, spun him around, and yanked the sword from his chest.

Blood sprayed. Gordon clutched his chest, collapsed, twitched twice, then died.

With a *whoosh*, the lights snapped back on. Gordon looked around and realized he had fallen directly onto the chalk outline of the corpse.

Gordon rose from the floor, standing still in thought. He said:

"The killer drove the weapon into Miss Vicki's chest. At that moment, her vital organs were likely pierced—but due to the nature of penetrating wounds, if the weapon isn't removed, blood doesn't spurt out immediately, so she retained some mobility."

"Unable to escape through the door, she may have tried to jump out the window—or tried to signal for help by tapping it."

"When she reached the window, the killer caught up, pulled her away from it, and yanked the weapon out of her body."

"Due to the force applied, she was dragged to the left, staggered back two steps, and collapsed exactly where she died."

Schiller and Bruce both nodded, agreeing with Gordon's reconstruction of the death. Then Schiller turned to Bruce again. "Did you see only Miss Vicki at the window?"

"Yes. When she tapped the glass, I immediately went downstairs, found the drainpipe on the east side of the building, and began climbing. If someone had pulled her away from the window, it must have happened while I was climbing."

At that moment, an officer knocked and entered. "Chief, the forensic report's here!"

Gordon hurried forward, took the report, scanned it, and immediately found the most critical detail. He held it up for Schiller to see:

"Based on wound analysis, the weapon entered from behind?"