In Gordon's office, he stared at the map on his desk while his forr subordinates shook their heads and sighed.
"This guy did it on purpose," said a burly detective with a full beard. "The places where the body was found, nearby these four cold storages—one owned by Richie, one by Lawrence, one by Spencer, and another by the damn Falcone Family."
"Ironically, the victim was frozen to death," another detective, a short-haired, competent woman, said. "If we announce the cause of death, it virtually points a finger at the owners of these cold storages. But if we don't, we can't delay for too long as the journalists' cars are already on their way here."
"Let's not announce it yet," Gordon said. "In the absence of solid evidence, it's better not to offend the journalists, let alone them. Moreover, if I rember correctly, each of these cold storages uses the latest refrigeration and preservation technology, aning the inside of these storages isn't actually cold."
The people around the desk frowned, clearly puzzled about this technical aspect. Gordon paused, then walked over to the phone. Soon, Victor Fries, a well-known cryogenic scientist from Gotham University, appeared in his office.
"Long ti no see, Professor Fries. Is Nora doing better?"
"Much better, she can go back to classes now. What brought up the cold storage issue all of a sudden? I haven't been a consultant for a long ti," Fries said.
"Yes, but you always had connections with them. We just want to know if all four cold storages have adopted the latest compact ice preservation technology, or if any of them has a traditional one?"
Victor walked up to the desk and looked at the map, then after thinking for a mont, said, "I rember that they all have adopted the latest technology, but if you ask who still retains a traditional cold storage... I recall that this one kept a small ice storage."
Victor pointed to a location on the map, and everyone's expression soured as that cold storage was owned by the Falcone Family.
With the old Godfather back in Italy and the new Godfather missing, the Falcone family business was managed by Cobblepot, but Gordon knew that there was nothing more important to Cobblepot than his mother, especially with her in poor health. Cobblepot would certainly not be distracted by such matters.
However, all clues pointed towards Cobblepot, who was also one of the candidates for the mayor. Although he didn't campaign vigorously due to his mother's health, seeming to have given up, his popularity wasn't low, as the reford mob sought soone to represent their interests, making Cobblepot the ideal candidate.
In other words, with Mr. Nigma's death, Cobblepot also benefited, possessing both motive and opportunity. In an instant, he beca the pri suspect.
The involvent of two mayoral candidates ant this was certainly not a simple murder case. It likely involved complex political maneuvering, and Gordon felt his head buzzing.
However, no matter what, he couldn't believe Cobblepot would act at this ti. Gordon had watched Cobblepot grow up; he knew Cobblepot would never leave his mother, not even for half a minute, let alone hire soone to commit murder now.
Suddenly, Gordon rembered that Cobblepot's mother was recuperating in Arkham Asylum, which ant Cobblepot was at Arkham Asylum—and so was Shiller right now.
There, case solved—that's who did it.
But then it struck Gordon that sothing was off. If it were Shiller, he wouldn't just dump Nigma's body in an alley; he would certainly process the body in so way, a thod that often hinted at his reasons for the murder.
Yet Nigma's body was just starkly left in a usual alley, no external injuries, only the unmistakable cause of hypothermia, with no clues or traces suggesting why he died this way. This wasn't typical of Shiller's thods.
To think Shiller had suddenly changed, had learned to disguise his actions, or was too lazy due to hot weather, Gordon was even less convinced. If conditions weren't right, Shiller would rather not act at all, but once he did, he would ensure it was done perfectly.
If not Shiller, then who could it be?
Just then, the office door was knocked on, and a subordinate stood outside, saying, "Boss, the forensics departnt has found new clues; do you want to co take a look?"
Gordon imdiately stood up, followed by the others, including Victor, who wasn't asked to leave, so he naturally followed Gordon to the forensics departnt.
The head of the forensic departnt was a slim Black man, who handed an X-ray to Gordon and said, "We found sothing in the body's stomach, but we can't identify what it is without opening the abdominal cavity. Shall we proceed with an autopsy?"
Gordon hesitated slightly and asked, "Does he have family?"
Another subordinate stepped forward and said, "We've inford Mr. Nigma's wife and son; they said as long as it helps catch the killer, any investigative asure can be taken."
"Have they co over?"
"No, because they didn't want to encounter reporters."
"A wise choice," Gordon remarked as he walked over to the table with the body, where the shroud had already been removed. The body was well-preserved, almost as if still alive. Gordon instinctively felt sothing was amiss.
"The body hasn't started to decompose yet?"
"That's what we were about to discuss," the Black man ca over and said. "The body's temperature is abnormally low, far below room temperature, which has delayed any spoilage, making it appear almost alive."
Gordon hesitated slightly and asked, "You're sure he's dead, right?"
"There are no signs of life left," the Black man shook his head. "To be safe, we also checked the brain waves, confirming he's brain dead."
Gordon stepped forward and gently touched the body, finding its temperature oddly low. To preserve the condition of the body, the air conditioning in the forensic departnt was set very high, but the body felt more than cold—it was like touching ice, sowhat freezing the fingers.
As the Black man ntioned, the body's perfect condition was a bit too much. If it wasn't lying still, Gordon would have thought it was still alive. What thod did the killer use to ensure the freshness of the body?
Gordon knew they couldn't delay any longer. He directly addressed the Black man, saying, "Prepare for the autopsy. Open his stomach and see what that thing is."
Because everyone's attention was on the body, no one saw Victor's surprised and thoughtful expression as he looked at the X-ray.
The forensic scientists at the lab worked rapidly. Before long, the corpse's stomach was opened, and a gloved hand pulled sothing out. The mont it was removed, Gordon felt a rush of cold air hit his face.
A small device was lifted in front of the goggles. Simultaneously, the temperature on the thermoter touching the corpse's skin began to rise, indicating that this palm-sized device was maintaining the body's temperature and freshness.
What is this?
Gordon peered through the observation window looking at the object. Soon after the sterilization was complete, the Black man walked over with the object and, removing his goggles, said, "It looks like a cold-air generator, but it's a bit too small. I've never seen anything like it on the market. Or is there so breakthrough in refrigeration technology I'm unaware of?"
Gordon took the device from his hand and found it had no off switch and couldn't be stopped, but just holding it made him feel cool all over—almost too cool, as holding it for just a few seconds made him want to shiver.
Gordon had no choice but to put the device down and turned to look at Victor, who appeared unperturbed as he walked through the crowd. Picking up the device, he examined it carefully and said, "The principle of compact ice is to ensure that its contents do not engage in heat exchange as much as possible, but this thing is designed for cooling, which is entirely different from my work."
"Do you know anyone who could make this?"
"Frankly, I haven't heard of any cryogenic scientist capable of this." Victor seed puzzled as he added, "I basically know everyone in the industry, and I haven't heard of anyone creating sothing like this. Besides, with the weather being so hot, if this were available, it would have sold out quickly. Who wouldn't want to make money?"
The others also found his reasoning sound. Considering the device was small, portable, and so effective at cooling, even a higher price would be acceptable. Who wouldn't want to feel cool as autumn in 40-degree weather?
Just as everyone was studying this small device, a painful moan suddenly ca from the autopsy room at the back.
The group turned in shock only to find that the body, which had been still on the autopsy table, had moved.
Without a mont's hesitation, the Black man yelled, "Quick! Get inside! No...get a doctor! Find a doctor!!!"
Everyone was stunned by this unexpected developnt.
About ten minutes later, a stretcher was loaded into an ambulance. Gordon, who stood at the door watching the ambulance leave, looked as dark as charcoal,
with his colleagues buzzing with discussion behind him.
"Oh, God, even if it was a suspended animation, it shouldn't be like this, right?! The person has been cold for so long, yet he ca back to life?!"
"So, does this not count as a murder case anymore? Is it true?"
"The mont he got up almost scared to death! I've been in this field for over twenty years and have never seen anything so..."
"Enough noise!" Gordon turned and shouted, "Get back to work!"
Gordon rarely lost his temper so significantly, and the officers scattered in an instant. Reporters gathered outside the police station, clamoring to rush in, were firmly blocked, with so still persistently shouting at Gordon.
"Director Gordon! Wasn't Mr. Nigma already declared dead? Why has he suddenly co back to life? Was your declaration of his death too hasty?"
"Is it confird that Mr. Nigma was in suspended animation? Director! Do you think this could be a ploy to attract voters' attention?"
Gordon felt a growing headache. He sighed deeply and walked back inside, returning to his office where Victor was waiting by the window.
"You recognize that device, don't you?" Gordon asked.
"Why do you ask?"
"If that device had nothing to do with you, the mont you saw it, you should have been excited," Gordon said, lowering his eyelids. "I know you scientists well. New technology is an unrivaled stimulant for you."
"That's actually not new technology." Victor didn't deny Gordon's view and rely said, "It's just a portable cooling device."
"Did you make it?"
"Not entirely," Victor shook his head and said. "The one I made isn't nearly as effective, only cooling the span of a forearm, and certainly doesn't have the ability to bring anyone back from the dead."
"Do you think revival has anything to do with this device?"
"That question obviously hits the mark," Victor said as he pulled up a chair and sat down. "There's no need for to repeat Nora's story; how do you think she survived initially?"
Gordon fell into thought before answering, "Her vital signs had completely ceased, just like a dead person, allowing her to survive in this manner up until the illness was addressed...Is the principle the sa?"
"Pretty much."
"That makes you the pri suspect."
"There's no need to pressure , chief," Victor shook his head. "I know solving cases isn't that simple. re capability isn't enough; obviously, I have no motive, no opportunity, and I have a substantial alibi. You can't convict based rely on a cooling device."
"Alright, then let be blunt: who could have access to your freezing equipnt and technology?"
Victor didn't respond, but he recalled a certain day many years ago, in a dimly lit lab, he asked a scrawny boy, "Do you know how water turns into ice?"
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