Solving the Case

Martin galloped along the tree-lined path for a while and saw a horse tethered to a tree at the agreed-upon spot. Martin ran over, untied the reins, leaped onto the horse, and spurred it on to gallop northwards along the predetermined route. At this point, the police officers maintaining order had not yet reacted.

Martin rode his horse quickly out of the campus. A couple of policemen, unaware of what was happening, blew their whistles at him, signaling that his galloping was a violation of regulations and demanding he stop and pay a fine. Martin, of course, ignored them and rode off. The policeman, without a horse, couldn't chase after him and could only curse after him, vowing to teach him a lesson if he ever caught him again.

Of course, it wouldn't be long before he found out what had happened at Harvard University, and he would naturally know that the person who had escaped right under his nose was the murderer. But by then, Martin felt he would have already escaped far enough to be out of reach of the Massachusetts police.

Having shaken off the police, Martin continued forward. He knew his frantic run had left obvious clues; anyone familiar with the Harvard assassination would recognize him as the killer. His only chance of escape was to run as fast as possible, out of the Boston police system's reach before they could react.

The horse Pidul had prepared for Martin was quite good; it ran like the wind. In no time, Martin had even left the city and was galloping north towards the agreed-upon grove of trees.

After a while, the horse's speed began to decrease noticeably. After all, Pidul had provided Martin with a good horse, but not a nuclear-powered Mongolian warhorse. Galloping for a long time was very tiring. Even a good horse would get tired.

However, the agreed-upon grove of trees was already very close. The grove itself, and the lumberjacks' cabins at its edge, could be seen from afar.

The loggers there had already lost their lives in a brown bear attack—after all, not every logger could be like Brother Qiang, who, after being slapped by Big Bear, could still get up and continue chatting and laughing with the two brothers. Because of this attack, the timber company abandoned its plans to log in this forest. Anyway, there were plenty of big trees in North America at this time, and there was no need to risk their lives against Big Bear and Little Bear for a few trees. So, the little cabin was abandoned and became a frequent stop for hunters who came after hearing the news.

However, the hunters haven't found either Xiong Da or Xiong Er, so nowadays, even fewer hunters come here. But this little wooden house hasn't been abandoned; often, illicit transactions take place here.

Martin looked back, but there was no dust rising. The weather was dry at this time, and the roads were all dirt tracks. If pursuers were galloping on horseback, the dust kicked up by the horses would be visible from a great distance. So it was certain that no police were chasing them. This was normal; the Massachusetts police weren't that efficient.

So he slowed down, urging the horse to trot slowly towards the cabin. This was a necessary relaxation for the horse after strenuous exercise.

Martin was only about twenty meters from the cabin. He could see three horses tied up beside it, and Mr. Pidul was standing next to one of the horses, smiling at him. Besides Pidul, there were two other people standing beside Pidul. Martin knew that they were the ones who would lead him east to board the ship.

"Mr. Pidul!" Martin jumped off his horse and led it over.

"Martin, is everything going well?" Pidul asked as well.

"Great, everything went smoothly!" Martin said with a big smile as he walked forward, opening his arms as if to give Pidul a hug.

At that moment, Pidul took a step to the side and forward, revealing the hand of the person standing next to him who had been hiding behind his back—a revolver. At the same time, another person on the other side also pulled out a revolver and fired at Martin.

Before Martin could react, the man opened fire. The two were no more than five meters apart, and caught off guard, Martin was immediately knocked to the ground by six bullets. Even in death, his eyes remained wide open, as if he couldn't believe what had happened.

The two gunmen emptied their revolvers, then pulled out another and aimed it at Martin, who lay on the ground. They slowly approached to examine him. Pidul also came over, glanced at him, and said, "He's dead. Alright, the rest is up to you."

The lead gunman nodded, then nudged Martin's body with his foot to confirm that Martin was indeed dead. Twelve bullets had hit him; it wouldn't be easy for him to survive. The two gunmen then turned and went into the lumberjack's hut. A moment later, they emerged dressed as tax police officers.

Thus, a very logical story unfolds: the cabin is a place where many smugglers trade, so it's normal for tax officials to patrol there, and then the two men encounter Martin, a murder fugitive, there.

Law enforcement officers were unaware that Martin was a murder fugitive; they were simply questioning him as a potential smuggling suspect. However, Martin, feeling guilty, pulled out a gun to resist, and was subsequently shot dead by the two officers.

Martin was killed, and all the clues naturally went cold. But confirming that he was a Southerner was easy. So the criticism of Southerners as barbaric and uncivilized could still continue, and they could even add propaganda that Southerners were not only barbaric and uncivilized, but also cowardly and incompetent, only capable of sneak attacks and that direct confrontation was a death sentence. This latter point would probably provoke Southerners even more.

On the other hand, the two tax police officers who killed Martin were undoubtedly from the Ministry of Truth. With this great achievement, they would certainly be promoted quickly, and occupying higher positions in what is arguably the most important violent institution in the United States would be very beneficial for both the Ministry of Truth and France.

Pidul left immediately, of course. Of the two tax officers, the older one stayed behind to guard the scene, while the younger one rode back to Boston to report the crime.

The young tax sergeant was halfway down the road when he was stopped by Boston Mounted Police who had come out to pursue him.

"Brother, did you see a young man riding a horse heading north?"

"Ah, no, I came from that direction and didn't see anything along the way," the young tax officer replied, then asked, "What happened?"

"There was a shooting at Harvard University. Witnesses reported that he ran this way. Didn't you see him?" a mounted police officer asked again.

"No," the young tax officer said without changing his expression. "But there's a fork in the road a little further ahead that leads west. If he really came this way, then he must have gone west at that fork in the road."

"Thank you for reminding me," the mounted police officer said, believing him.

The two groups separated. The mounted police continued their pursuit of the criminal who had entered a country they couldn't yet access; while the young tax officer hurried back to the tax office to make sure no police would try to take credit for him.

Rushing back to the tax bureau, the young tax policeman hurried into the director's office.

"Chief Dulles, I have something very important to report to you," the young tax policeman said as he entered Chief Dulles's office.

"Oh, it's Pope. What's up?" Director Dulles asked.

Pope then reported the incident to Chief Dulles using the prepared story, adding, "On the way back, I encountered a squad of mounted police who said they were chasing a murderer who killed someone at Harvard—I think the guy we killed must be that murderer. I had them take another route—I didn't want them to steal our credit, Chief, you know, these guys are really capable of doing things like that."

Chief Dulles nodded. "Pope, you're right. Those guys will definitely try to steal our credit whenever they get the chance. You did a great job! We'll go to the scene right away and protect our credit. We can't let the police steal it!"

Director Dulles immediately sprang into action, mobilizing all available personnel to rush to the scene and protect his credit.

Of course, in order to protect his credit and to ensure that the credit had a sufficient effect, Director Dulles issued a gag order to everyone involved in the operation.

For Massachusetts to suffer such a humiliation at Harvard University, one of United States's most prestigious institutions, in front of international guests, is utterly disgraceful. As for Boston, Mayor Landau was so enraged upon learning of the incident that he smashed his glasses.

He angrily berated Police Chief Hughes, who had come to inform him of the incident. "A man, in the most bustling part of the city, in front of hundreds of people, killed another man, and then he actually got away! He actually got away! I told you long ago to be careful with security, to be careful with security, to not cause trouble, to not cause trouble! And what did you do? What did you do! You all ignored everything I told you, you thought I was just being alarmist! I told you last month, last week, to be careful of those Southerners, to be careful of those Southerners, but... it's infuriating! Tell me, what do you have to say now!"

"Mayor, we...we will catch the murderer," Chief Hughes replied awkwardly.

"Catch him? How long will it take? Two days have already passed. I promised the public I would solve the case in three days. It's almost three days, and dawn will break in a few hours. Do you have any leads? Do you?"

"We need more time..." Director Hughes replied.

Mayor Landau was so angry he almost smashed his teacup at Chief Hughes's face. He tried to hold back, but couldn't. With trembling hands, he took off his glasses and slammed them to the floor—it was carpeted, so they wouldn't break—and was about to continue his outburst when his secretary entered and said, "Mayor, Chief Dulles is here. He says he has the latest news on the case."

"Quick, let him in!" Mayor Landau said, while quickly bending down to pick up the glasses from the ground and putting them on his nose.

"Mayor, I have an update," Director Dulles said.

"Speak quickly."

"Two days ago, two of our team members were questioning a suspicious individual, suspected of being a smuggler, when that guy suddenly pulled out a gun and fired at our team members. Our team members immediately returned fire and killed the guy. At the time, they reported the incident as armed smuggling, and because of the urgency, we didn't have time to conduct further investigation. However, today, while investigating the incident, we discovered that the suspected smuggler whom our officers killed may very well be the murderer who committed the crime at Harvard University."

"What?" Mayor Landau was taken aback, and his glasses, which he had just put on his nose, accidentally fell off again.

"Yes, Mr. Mayor, we now have every reason to suspect that this man is the murderer," Chief Dulles replied. "His body is still here, and his build is very similar to the one on the wanted poster. I know that some people saw the murderer near Professor Fafnir's residence before the incident, and others claimed to have seen him carrying a cello case on the Harvard campus. The portrait on our wanted poster was drawn based on these people's descriptions."

We found these witnesses, and they all confirmed that the guy we killed was the murderer. In fact, on the day of the incident, he was questioned by our men for suspicious behavior and was shot dead."

"Is this true?" Mayor Landau was still a little skeptical.

"Mayor, I have brought the two fine young men who exchanged fire with him, as well as several eyewitnesses. You can question them yourself!" Chief Dulles replied confidently.

Hearing his certainty, Mayor Landau basically believed him. However, he still called in the two "good lads" and several eyewitnesses and questioned them in detail.

"Now we can be certain, that bastard our awesome young man shot dead is the damned killer!" Mayor Landau said. "Very good, you two young men are excellent. You said you stopped him because of luck, but that's not true. You were able to stop him, to notice something was wrong with him, because you are loyal to your profession and dedicated to your work. It is because of your dedication that you noticed something was off about this guy and questioned him. That led to what happened next. That guy was a well-trained killer, but you were able to kill him even after he drew his gun first, which shows how serious you are in your training. Unlike some guys, who, as police officers, had close contact with the killer near the victim's house but were completely oblivious and didn't notice anything amiss. That's really... Chief Hughes, you and your men need to reflect on your actions and learn from the tax department!"

After saying this, Mayor Landau reached out and patted the two "good lads" on the shoulder, saying with satisfaction, "Not bad, lads! Very good, full of energy! Very worthy of being nurtured! Hahahaha..."