Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics Chapter 6245: Chicago Memories (14)

Bruce was awakened again by the sound of police sirens. He barely opened his eyes, seeing the daylight outside, red and blue lights flashing on the window, heavy footsteps like rolling spring thunder, and the walkie-talkie emitting sharp calls. He felt something pass by him, like a boulder rolling down a mountain. Bruce buried his head in his clothes and continued to sleep heavily.

Then came the piercing screams and countless angry shouts. Bruce quickly felt someone shaking him nonstop and then being lifted onto a stretcher, followed by the ambulance. He indeed felt dizzy from the hangover and didn’t force himself to wake up, making his way to the hospital, smelling the familiar scent of disinfectant.

Bruce slept well at the hospital. He could hear many gentle sounds, seemingly people talking softly, with the constant sound of heels coming and going. Before long, he heard someone softly calling him. Bruce slowly opened his eyes to see a nurse looking at him with some concern.

“What’s the matter?” Bruce pretended to have a headache. Although his forehead did have a faint pain, it wasn’t enough to show such pained expressions, but now he was a party boy who got dead drunk last night, a headache was normal.

“Are you okay?” The nurse asked softly, “You drank a lot of alcohol and hadn’t eaten much, we gave you some glucose infusion…”

“Ah, thanks.” Bruce displayed confusion, “Did I drink too much, so I ended up in the hospital?”

“You didn’t drink that much,” the nurse shook her head, “Three of your classmates got alcohol poisoning, and one is being rescued.”

“Last night was indeed a bit crazy.” Bruce sighed, showing some guilt, “It was my first time attending such a party, they told me to drink and I just did…”

“I completely understand.” The nurse said while checking his IV, “Everyone’s like that when they first come to a big city, you’re lucky, neither alcohol poisoning nor anything else…”

The nurse stopped speaking here. Bruce glanced at her with some confusion and then asked, “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“You’ll have to wait for the police to talk to you about that.” The nurse showed a bit of regret, “But don’t be afraid, no one here can harm you, everything will be okay.”

Bruce nodded blankly. After the nurse left, he lay there for a while longer. Because of the IV, he wasn’t very hungry. Then soon, Stark squeezed in through the door, walked to Bruce’s bed, and said, “Are you okay?”

Bruce gently nodded, glanced outside the room, seeing nothing but police. Stark said, “Someone from the Chicago Police Department also participated in the fishing competition, I got familiar with them, that’s how I got in, the parents and friends of other students are outside.”

Bruce nodded. Stark looked around, lowered his voice, and said, “What happened with you?”

“Why suspect me?”

“Most Batmen don’t drink, and you got yourself drunk like this, it’s hard for me to believe you haven’t done something.”

Bruce avoided talking about this topic and simply asked, “Did you see anyone familiar?”

“Familiar? What familiar?” Stark seemed suspiciously, “Are you talking about Shiller? I didn’t see him, what’s up with him?”

“Nothing.” Bruce shook his head again.

Stark leaned back, resting against the chair back, then said, “Even if you’re eager to see him, you must prioritize, this time something big might have happened, the police won’t disclose anything, even the media reporters are being blocked outside.”

“It can’t be hidden.” Bruce sighed lightly, “But you are right about one thing, something big did happen this time.”

Suddenly, a few policemen walked in, and Stark quickly stepped aside. The leading female officer glanced at Bruce, then lowered her head to look at her notebook and said, “Bruce Wayne, right?”

Bruce nodded, “I am, is there something wrong?”

“We have some questions for you.” The female officer sat down next to the hospital bed, while Stark was taken outside by other officers. Bruce pretended to be confused as he looked at her, then the female officer began the questioning.

The questions were simple, just basic identity information and what happened at the party yesterday, Bruce answered truthfully, saying he didn’t know if he didn’t. The female officer’s expression was somewhat grave, but not because of Bruce’s answers, she seemed to be worried about something else.

“Your suit,” the female officer asked again, “You wore a very expensive suit, but according to what we know, your financial condition doesn’t seem to support you buying such an expensive suit.”

“Yes, I didn’t buy it.” Bruce naturally had thought of his reply, “I was visiting a suit shop, and because the price was too expensive, I had to choose carefully, staying there for a long time. Just when I was going to go to the other side of the park to see if there was something better, a Black man waved at me in the alley and said he had good goods.”

Bruce showed a somewhat awkward look, “I knew they might be stolen, but I really needed a good set of clothes, so I spent a few hundred bucks and bought it from him. What’s up with the clothes?”

“He didn’t steal them.” The female officer said, “A person died in Hyde Park the other day, and those clothes were his.”

Bruce widened his eyes, behaving very shocked, “I didn’t kill anyone! I just arrived in Chicago not long ago, I came for school…”

“Of course, we know.” The female police officer said nonchalantly, “We’ve conducted a thorough investigation on you, and you really didn’t have the time to commit the crime. Can you tell us about that Black man?”

“He’s not very tall, has short hair, looks a bit mixed-race, wearing a motorcycle jacket, and the suit was in a plastic bag. After I took it, he took the bag back…”

Bruce started rambling. He knew the police couldn’t possibly find anything, because there are many Black neighborhoods in the southern part of Chicago. There could be tens of thousands of Black men like the one Bruce described. Moreover, there’s the largest black market right here in Chicago, where anything could end up. So, it’s entirely possible that the killer sold the clothing to the black market after committing the murder, and then it was sold to Bruce by someone there.

As expected, the female police officer didn’t show any signs of disappointment. She simply said, “Take a good rest. We might need to question you again once you recover.”

“Wait,” Bruce hurried to stop her, “what exactly happened? I shouldn’t have alcohol poisoning, so why am I in the hospital?”

“Someone died at the party,” the female police officer seemed to realize she couldn’t hide everything from the person involved, “it’s quite serious. Everyone present is a suspect, and you all must undergo investigation. But we’ve informed the school, classes might be postponed for a few days, after all, the school authorities might be busier.”

With that, the police left. Bruce slowly reined in his expression and began to ponder. When the nurse came in next, Bruce called her over and asked, “How’s Brian?”

Upon hearing the name, the nurse’s hand paused, then she said, “You know him?”

“Sort of, we met at the party.”

“He’s in the psychiatric department,” the nurse sighed, “he seems to have witnessed the murder scene, suffered some mental distress, and is currently receiving treatment.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Bruce shook his head.

Then that night, he directly jumped out of the window and started searching for the psychiatric department in the hospital. It was already late at night, and the hospital was quiet. Bruce crossed the courtyard, entered the psychiatric building, and easily found Brian in the high-end inpatient ward.

Strangely, he was tied up with restraints. Bruce stood on the balcony of the adjacent room looking inside and found that Brian was lying straight on the bed, seemingly not asleep.

Bruce frowned. Brian witnessed the murder scene and suffered mental distress, but he didn’t commit the murder, so why restrain him with straps?

Moreover, unlike Dali, Brian’s family should be paying a lot of attention to him. He might even be an heir, so how could his family agree to tie him up like this?

Unless he did exhibit some aggressive behavior, and without restraining him, there was no way to limit his actions, then the hospital would take such extreme measures, and his family could accept it.

People who suffered mental distress might be somewhat frantic, but Bruce still felt that something was amiss. But now the trouble was that the police were keeping a close eye on the hospital, and he couldn’t come out during the day. To figure out what was going on with Brian, he could only come at night, but at night they would surely administer sedatives, and he couldn’t see anything.

Bruce had to go back to his ward to sleep. The next day upon waking, Stark brought him breakfast. As he chewed on his sandwich, he pondered. Stark seemed to notice that something was on his mind and asked, “What’s bothering you?”

Bruce thought for a moment and said, “Can you make a camera?”

“You’re asking me?” Stark seemed very surprised, “Aren’t you supposed to carry hundreds of mini cameras around and toss them anywhere?”

Bruce waved his hand, not wanting to comment on Stark’s stereotype of Batman. He said, “I want you to help me make a camera, preferably a mini one, but a regular one will do.”

“If you want a real-time one, that might be difficult,” Stark said truthfully, “Although I have some money now and can buy some better electronic components, there isn’t much good stuff these days. If I had to make one from scratch…”

“No need, just a photo will do.” Bruce said, “One photo every hour, store it, then I’ll come check it.”

“That’s quite simple,” Stark said, “I’ll bring it to you by dinner. I won’t come at noon; I still have stuff to sell.”

“I suggest you don’t wear those clothes,” Bruce said, “it might be bait they’re using to divert attention. If you don’t want to run into a killer, you’d better buy a new set yourself.”

“Although I’d love to meet a killer, I indeed don’t have time for trouble lately, I will.” Stark nodded.

Bruce didn’t idle around in the hospital either. Besides chatting with nurses, he also chatted with the police. He could easily gain others’ favor and subtly gathered some information.

This incident was really big, not only because of the number of deaths but more importantly, the horrific condition of the bodies. Moreover, after the crime scene was searched comprehensively by the police, it also led to clues of other cases.

Bruce had anticipated this, or rather, this was his goal. People like Brian would definitely deliberately preserve evidence of their misdeeds as a memento. An unhideable bloody carnage would cause all suppressed old cases to surface again. Perhaps this is also why the Chicago Police Department didn’t have time to trouble them.