Jorgen came to the census office in Stormwind City to investigate information about the second victim, Raiden Fandaron, the census auditor. His incessant questioning made the Royal Agent Bartholomew sweat profusely.
"Yes, yes! Raiden was indeed demoted for making a mistake. But can this be the reason for his murder? It makes no sense at all!"
"It seems you feel very uneasy about his death," Jorgen said.
"Uneasy? Really? Of course, of course I'm uneasy. If you checked these innumerable draft evasion records every day, you'd feel uneasy too."
"We've known each other for a while, Bartholomew. And you know who I work for. But you see, I'm here to ask you about this privately in a friendly way, so you'd better be smart."
Threats like this were usually very effective.
Bartholomew scratched his bald head. "Do you promise not to tell anyone else? By the Holy Light..."
"Goodness, Bartholomew, are you a child? Are we playing guessing games or investigating a murder case?"
"Well," Bartholomew said, "Raiden was demoted for deliberately misreporting the number of members of the Stonemasons Guild."
The Stonemasons Guild again, Jorgen thought.
"At that time, when that rascal VanCleef had not yet defected, the Stonemasons Guild and their families lived together in the Old Town. The Engineering Department issued living allowances to the Stonemasons Guild according to the number of people. Raiden reduced the number of the guild members and reported it up at the behest of a certain person... Do you understand?"
"So the 'certain person' who ordered him to misreport could skim some money from that fund." Another logical conclusion.
"I have to say, that fund was no small amount! But I must declare that I was not involved. Only Raiden was punished when the matter was revealed. After all, that certain person was untouchable. That's all I can tell you!"
"You're a good man, Bartholomew, and very honest. That's all I need to know, carry on with your business." Jorgen turned to leave.
"Jorgen, wait."
"What?"
"Um..." Bartholomew seemed hesitant. "Do you think this is revenge from VanCleef's remnants?"
"I can only say that this guess cannot be ruled out now. You seem afraid, Bartholomew. Is there anything else you want to tell me?"
"Nothing more, Jorgen. I'm not afraid. It's just stuffy in this room..."
The three victims, Oliver Sandler, Raiden Fandaron and Daku, all had some connection with the Stonemasons Guild. Jorgen really couldn't find a reason for Department 7 to shelve this series of murders. Medias Shaw's investigators were just going through the motions, far from Jorgen's current level of understanding.
The lair of the Defias Brotherhood had long been destroyed, and VanCleef had been executed long ago. In this case, this series of murders was a direct provocation to the Military Intelligence Section Seven --
"I can't consider this with such preconceptions." Jorgen temporarily halted his deductions.
By now, he had returned to his little house. He did not light the candles, and the pale moonlight peered in through the window, shining on the back of his black cat. In the shallow tin plate in front of the black cat's nose was a dry fish bone.
Jorgen was hungry. He picked up a piece of bread that had been left on the table and ate it with some butter. After eating, he took the black cat's shallow tin plate and threw away the fish bone. Then he went to the sink to wash the plate, which had left many insect droppings.
There was a small square mirror hanging in front of the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror, his forehead hair had turned white, and the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth had obscured an old scar from his youth. His brown eyes were still spirited.
"Mirror." He suddenly remembered something, threw the tin plate to the edge of the sink, and took out a slip of paper with the "V3" symbol from his pocket to look at its reflection in the mirror.
He had long felt that the strokes of "3" were too straight, and now he knew why.
The slip of paper in the mirror clearly spelled out the two letters "EV".
Edwin VanCleef.