"I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about." Schiller lay sprawled over his desk, holding the phone in one hand and propping up his face with the other as he leisurely said, "You mean someone plagiarized my paper? Which journal did he publish it in? I'll write them a letter."
"...A murder case?" Schiller blinked in confusion, then switched the phone to his other hand and picked up a ledger from beside him. "Under normal circumstances, I'd be happy to take a look, but I'm a little busy lately. My bookstore is busy stocking up."
"What? You didn't know? I opened a bookstore on Eighth Street, Lihén Bookstore at the corner of Tail Alley. Today's its first day of business, but seeing as you're so busy, I won't hold it against you for not coming to show your support on opening day..."
Hearing what Bruce said on the other end, Schiller frowned slightly. Then he said, "I do vaguely remember that mysterious V you mentioned. He mailed me a pig's ear and a small card with a strange pattern on it. But I need to finish what I'm working on first. After all, being a detective is only a side job. In Gotham, that line of work doesn't put food on the table."
"Don't worry. I believe that, besides playing a human statue at tourist attractions, you can make some real contribution to Gotham's public safety. Why not start with this case?"
"...No time to write your paper? That's fine. Your adopted son had such a serious accident; his studies can be put aside for now. You can mail your leave request to the bookstore or Rodriguez Manor. Once I've signed it, I'll mail it back to you."
"What?... Oh, my God! You've misunderstood me completely!" Schiller turned