Party and Umbrella (VI)

Batman was investigating the identity of the mysterious third person in the murder case, reviewing surveillance footage at his computer.

When renovating Living Hell, Batman had naturally slipped in a few extras, such as thousands upon thousands of additional cameras.

In an ordinary residential district, with Batman’s wealth and technological capabilities, he could have used cameras to monitor every resident without a single blind spot.

But in Living Hell, that was difficult to achieve. The absurd building layout and excessively dense population made electronic surveillance a challenge.

Elsewhere, cameras had an 80% field of view and 20% blind spots. But within Living Hell’s building structures, cameras had 80% blind spots and only 20% visible areas.

Moreover, the people living here had no concept of not occupying public space. Every nook and cranny where a camera could be hidden would be piled high with assorted junk.

The people here also had no notion of not damaging public property. When they saw some random thing on a wall, their first reaction was to shoot it. As a result, within just a few weeks, 30% of Batman’s hidden cameras had been destroyed, while another 30% had been blocked or rendered too blurry to use.

The remaining 30% were scattered in locations that depended entirely on luck. As it happened, there were no usable cameras in the two or three corridors around Fish’s death scene, so Batman could only search for clues farther away.

The population here was dense, and far too many people came and went every day. The cameras in the surrounding blocks had recorded thousands of people alone. Finding someone among them who might have known both Fish and Cobblepot was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Even so, Batman remained patient and watched the footage frame by frame.

His efforts soon paid off. Batman spotted a somewhat familiar face in the footage: Sal Maroney.

The surveillance camera had only caught his profile, but his features were distinctive, and his bearing differed from everyone else’s. Batman recognized him at a glance.

After pulling up Maroney’s file, Batman discovered that Maroney was not a resident of Living Hell and had almost no connection to anyone here. That made his appearance here highly suspicious.

Batman decided to talk to Maroney. Even if he was not the killer, appearing in Living Hell at this particular time meant he had to know something.

"Batman? What about him?" Schiller asked Cobblepot in a ward at Arkham Asylum.

"I observed that freak for a while and found something very strange about him—he doesn’t kill people."

"And not only does he not kill people," Cobblepot said in disbelief, "he actually saves people. I saw him save a child who was being beaten…"

"How could Gotham have someone like that?" Cobblepot said in an utterly absurd tone. "It would almost be a waste not to take advantage of him…"

"So how did you take advantage of him?"

"Just as Maroney and I arranged, I lured Fish into a room, then provoked her. Maroney shot and killed her from the side."

"But what Maroney didn’t know was that I had made preparations before arriving. While we were making our move, I had someone upstairs cause a disturbance. I knew that freak often patrolled here, so that would definitely draw him over."

"When Maroney heard someone approaching, he was eager to flee. I volunteered to stay behind and clean up. Then, just as Batman told you…"

Cobblepot revealed a chillingly wicked smile and said, "I collapsed there and pretended to have an episode. I was covered in signs of abuse. Sure enough, not only did that freak not kill me, he even saved me. And so, I ended up at the police station…"

"I understand the entire process now. So let’s talk about the cause. Now that things have reached this point, how do you intend to accomplish your goal?"

"Maroney kidnapped my mother and forced a minor and a mentally ill person to participate in this murder. I heard him personally describe his plan to frame Little Falcone…"

"I will step forward as the sole witness, accuse Maroney, prove that the godfather’s heir is innocent, and show that it was all Maroney’s scheme…"

"You think you can use that to bargain with the godfather?"

"No. Of course I know that’s impossible."

Cobblepot looked at the ceiling and said, "When the godfather made me kill Old Edward, I understood a truth. A truth that makes the godfather the godfather, one that Little Falcone still hasn’t understood…"

"When the godfather does something, it must be justified, supported by sufficient reason and sound logic."

"He has no reason to persecute an insignificant… nobody who worked diligently for him, was abused and coerced, suffered mental trauma and required hospitalization because of it, and had even solved a problem for him before being admitted."

When Cobblepot finished speaking, Schiller looked at him. A shadow cast by the window’s crossbeam fell across his face. Though his features were still youthful, they already hinted at the outline of Penguin, the future man of great ambition.

Moving among various factions, maintaining a delicate balance, devising interlocking plans, and executing them with near-perfect ability—it was hard to believe that a child barely in his teens had accomplished all of this alone.

"However, your perfect plan still encountered an accident."

Hearing Schiller’s question, Cobblepot instinctively turned his head away, unwilling to look directly at the Doctor. But Schiller continued, "The accident came from your family’s hereditary illness. Your mother had an episode first, forcing you to waste too much time subduing and calming her. Then, just as the plan was about to succeed, your fake illness became a real one. So instead of exposing Maroney at the police station, you ended up here."

Cobblepot pressed his lips together, as though unwilling to admit it. Then he said, "You said this illness could be cured…"

"It can, but you have to cooperate."

Schiller stood and nodded, saying seriously, "If that’s the case, then I admit that you committed no academic fraud in the field of crime. The plan’s design, its early preparations, its mid-stage execution, and its cleanup were all on the same level as when you murdered Old Edward."

"Although some parts were a little cumbersome, it was still thorough. If this accident had not occurred, everything would have proceeded smoothly according to your plan."

"And your grasp of the godfather’s mentality was very accurate. Under such circumstances, he truly would not hold it against you."

"Now then, let’s analyze this accident."

Schiller walked to the other side of the room, pushed over a whiteboard, wrote a string of words on it, and pointed at it. "Catatonic schizophrenia. To understand this illness, we must begin with schizophrenia as a broader category…"

After that, Cobblepot, lying in bed, was forced to listen to Schiller give a general lecture on psychiatry.

Even with a genius brain, after more than an hour, Schiller’s lecture had left him dizzy and overwhelmed. There were too many medical terms he had never even heard before, accompanied by case analyses from all kinds of examples.

During a pause while Schiller drank water, Cobblepot said, "I think I’m almost recovered. Let me go back to the police station. I still have things to do…"

"Don’t rush. There’s only one final part left, and it’s the most important one: why exactly you had an episode at that time."

"First, dusk through nighttime is itself a peak period for schizophrenia episodes. Changes in lighting can stimulate psychiatric patients."

"You probably began preparing at dusk and acted at night. If I’m not mistaken, the room where you acted had a window facing the sunset, and the light was still glaring. That would cause greater stimulation for someone mentally unstable. Next time, remember to choose a room without windows."

"And before that, Fish abused you. Then, while subduing your mother, you suffered considerable injuries."

"These are all very typical external stimuli."

Schiller spun the pen in his hand and said, "You thought that you silently endured Fish beating you, and that you were merely helpless when your mother hurt you. But in reality, your subconscious remembered that pain more deeply than your rational mind did."

"You think you weren’t psychologically scarred, but that isn’t true."

"Adolescents are inherently mentally unstable. Even if you had not fallen ill this time, you would still have developed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in about a month—continuous irritability, nightmares, and difficulty falling asleep."

"People always imagine themselves to be stronger than they are. The higher their intelligence and the stronger their rationality, the more likely they are to think that way."

"But the human mind is actually more fragile than people imagine. Just because psychological trauma has not manifested does not mean it does not exist."

Cobblepot turned his head away, refusing to think about those questions. He said, "I need to finish my plan. Although I’m late, it should still be in time."

"No rush…" Schiller walked over to his desk, rummaged through it, pulled out a file, and said as he flipped through it, "From your perspective, this matter has already been explained very clearly."

"But would you like to hear this story from another angle?"

Schiller opened the file and said in a flat tone, "Ten days ago, a murder occurred on Green Street beside the Living Hell district. The officer in charge was Harvey Bullock. His report reads as follows…"

"Kevin Brown, gang leader, was found dead in the back alley at the end of Green Street. He had been shot three times. The second bullet struck his lung and was the fatal wound. He was pronounced dead at the scene when police arrived. After investigating the crime scene, the police determined it was a gang shootout."

"You should be familiar with this case. You mentioned it in your account just now."

"But this is not the case I want to discuss. I want to discuss another case attached to it."

"In Wiggins Umbrella Shop in the back alley at the end of Green Street, an umbrella maker was found dead at the entrance to his shop. The cause of death was a gunshot wound. He also died at the scene. After investigating, the police determined that he had been caught up in the gang shootout…"

"In the end, the police concluded that a gang shootout had taken place in the back alley at the end of Green Street, resulting in two deaths."

Cobblepot watched Schiller lean against the windowsill with his back to the light. When he lowered the file, the light shone from behind him onto his lenses, preventing Cobblepot from seeing his eyes. But Cobblepot had a bad feeling.

"I know what you want to say. A case like this is nothing unusual, and it has nothing to do with you."

"But it caused me a great deal of trouble."

Schiller said calmly, "There have been many rainy days lately, so I have been using my umbrella frequently. It broke."

"When I went to find that umbrella maker to have it repaired, I discovered that he was already dead."

"Fish Mooney killed the only handmade umbrella maker in all of Gotham City."

"Afterward, I went to talk to her. Overwhelmed by guilt, she could neither eat nor sleep, so she went mad."

"So now, Mr. Cobblepot…"

Cobblepot began to feel a chill down his back. He struggled to move toward the other side of the bed, trying to avoid Schiller’s gaze, but one of his hands was still tied to the bedrail, leaving him unable to move.

Schiller took an umbrella from behind the desk and slowly walked to the foot of the bed. Then he reached out, pressed the umbrella tip between Cobblepot’s eyes, and said to him:

"Can you explain where this umbrella in your hand, bearing the Wiggins umbrella maker’s mark, came from?"

Today’s ten thousand words are here!

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