The mastermind is Merlin?

Lake had, after all, had some friction with a colleague in Internal Affairs.

The last time, a single anonymous tip had nearly sent the entire department into action to completely ruin Lake. Fortunately, Lake's record was spotless. He had always preyed on criminals and never accepted a cent of dirty money, which left Internal Affairs with nothing but a bloody nose. If not for the top brass stepping in, they probably would have kept hounding him.

But now things were different.

This time, such a perfect opportunity had presented itself.

White plus Black was dead. At most, the civil lawsuit could no longer be pursued, but there was still room to make some moves within the police department.

Moreover.

Lake had a feeling that this time, with the top brass giving the word, Internal Affairs would probably push things through by force.

However...

There probably wouldn't be anything else happening tonight.

Lake's method of taking revenge without letting the night pass had paid off. Before White plus Black's lawyer could even reach the courthouse, his client had already been GG'd.

The people behind this were probably still trying to figure out what had happened. By the time the mastermind came up with any follow-up plan, it would already be tomorrow.

Starlight Tower.

By the time Lake returned from the police station, it was already past seven in the evening. After all, the entire matter had nothing to do with Lake.

Besides.

The killer at the hospital had been caught on camera. The surveillance camera in the ward had been smashed, but the one in the hallway was still working.

So the killer's appearance had been captured clearly.

The moment Beckett received the surveillance photos, she could tell that the person in them was absolutely not Lake.

Lake had also seen his own face in the footage without his glasses. He himself felt that the person in it was him, but not only Beckett—even Inspector Montgomery thought it was a different person.

Without a doubt.

Rule-type item—Gold-rimmed Glasses!

In Lake's eyes, himself with the glasses removed and himself without the glasses were exactly the same person. But in everyone else's eyes, they were two entirely different people.

It was quite miraculous.

What?

Lake took off his glasses when he slept, too?

Heh.

When Superman got intimate with his girlfriend, didn't she also see Superman without his glasses and never suspect a thing?

Lake had been confused at first, so he had specifically asked his girlfriend, Maureen, whether her appearance changed when she wasn't wearing glasses. His girlfriend had shaken her head and said that she looked even more handsome.

All right.

After puzzling over it, Lake thought of Superman with his glasses. After pondering it for a while, he figured this was probably one of Gold-rimmed Glasses' hidden functions. After all, taking off the glasses when killing was for disguise, while taking them off when getting intimate with his girlfriend was for pleasure.

Gold-rimmed Glasses probably had its own set of judgment rules.

Back home.

Lake carried the pizza he had bought downstairs and opened the door. When he saw Maureen sitting at the bar, he blinked.

Huh.

Hadn't they broken up?

Could she have come to pick up some personal belongings she had left here?

That was what Lake thought, but after looking over the sofa and floor in the living room, he didn't see any sign of a storage box.

Had they not broken up?

Then what had that silent turn and departure from Inspector Montgomery's office that morning meant?

Lake blinked.

He changed his shoes.

Lake walked over, placed the boxed pizza on the bar, and said to Maureen, who was fiddling with her phone after its battery had died and it had shut off automatically, "I thought you'd left. You looked furious when you left this morning."

Maureen looked up, then shook her head. "No. I'm just a little disappointed in you."

You might as well have been furious.

If she had been furious, they might still have been able to have breakup sex. And honestly, angry sex was more stimulating than sex fueled by any other emotion.

But disappointment?

Disappointment felt the worst, and disappointed sex was the worst, too.

For example.

If angry sex was like the two of them dancing at the mouth of an erupting volcano, then disappointed sex felt like performing a one-man show for a dead halibut.

Disappointed sex was the worst.

That was what Lake thought as he shrugged and turned to retrieve his bourbon. "Is that so? All right, my bad."

He admitted his mistakes when he knew he was wrong.

But he absolutely would not change.

He had always been the one others spoiled. There had never been a time when he spoiled someone else.

"Want a drink?"

"No."

Maureen waved her hand. "I made plans with a friend later."

That killer had completely thrown off her rhythm. She had to find a way to fix things.

Lake nodded and poured himself a glass. After taking a sip, he opened the pizza box. "So, you're not interested in this, either?"

Maureen smiled, as if to say he could do whatever he wanted.

Lake took out a slice of pizza and bit into it with a drink of bourbon. He hadn't eaten pizza in several days, and it tasted pretty good.

Maureen tilted her head and looked at Lake. "So this is why you stepped into the trap even though you knew it was one?"

Lake blinked. "What?"

He naturally knew what Maureen meant, but he would never admit it.

Maureen didn't pursue the matter. She merely smiled. "Then you should know that keeping those two alive would have been better than killing them, right? If you kept them alive, at least the person hiding behind them would have come out."

Even without Lake saying anything, Maureen was certain that Lake hadn't killed White plus Black, but he absolutely couldn't be separated from the matter.

That was the confidence of someone who had earned a doctorate in psychology from Stanford University, one of the world's top psychology schools. It was also the unnervingly accurate Sixth Sense of being Lake's girlfriend.

Lake glanced at his girlfriend, who seemed to have already decided that he was involved in the matter, then lowered his head with a smile. "I don't really understand what you're talking about. Besides, this is just how I am. Compromise isn't my style. Even temporary compromise. You know what I'm like. If I'm going to do something, I do it. I've never been a coward!"

Maureen nodded. She naturally knew what kind of person Lake was. "But now that you've stopped being a coward, you can't find the person hiding behind them, either."

The corners of Lake's mouth curved upward. "Is that so?"

Maureen said, "Isn't it?"

Lake shrugged without answering.

Did losing those two White plus Blacks mean he was helpless?

Wasn't the lawyer still alive?

As they spoke.

Knock, knock, knock!

Lake set down the pizza and walked toward the door.

"Mr. Edwin, your package!"

"Thanks."

Lake took out his wallet and handed the New York City express delivery courier a fifty-dollar bill.

He closed the door.

Lake returned to the bar and began opening the package in his hands.

Rip.

A background investigation report appeared on the bar.

He opened it.

Jefferson Hall, senior partner at New York Tinico Law Firm.

After a photograph came a list of every case this attorney, Jefferson Hall, had handled throughout his legal career.

Maureen frowned as she looked at the documents in Lake's hands. "Where did you get this?"

Lake looked up and smiled. "A contact."

"A contact?"

Thinking of the contacts who had appeared in Lake's various cases, Maureen smiled. "Your contact is quite something. He can even access the FBI's system database."

The corners of Lake's mouth curved upward. "Did you forget which school I graduated from?"

Maureen: "..."