"He came looking for me as soon as he got out of prison. I drove him off. I heard he got killed on the way back, but so what? It's all his own fault for not watching his steps,"
"Did you know someone kidnapped the future tech manager of the Stella Core Space Station?"
Kingpin was startled.
Peter, seeing the expression on his face, realized. He said, "It seems you do have something to do with this matter. What exactly is going on?"
"I didn't kidnap anyone," Kingpin said. "I have no need to do that. I'm one of the Space Station's investors. Why would I kidnap one of our own?"
"The future tech manager... Oh, you mean the guy who can turn into sand? What's his name?... I forgot. He's indeed a good choice. He's missing?"
"Yes, and it's not just him. I was also attacked. Have you been following the recent cases in Brooklyn?"
"What recent cases in Brooklyn?"
"I'm referring to the minor ones. Several shops have had things gone missing, and even a gun store was burglarized. The problem is, the surveillance didn't catch anyone, and the person who attacked me yesterday on the street was invisible."
Kingpin was visibly taken aback. As a man of his stature, he didn't have the time to fuss over petty thieves, but he grasped Peter's implication.
If the person after Beck was also after the Stella Core Space Station, how did they know Beck was on the list?
If the list got out, who would be the most suspicious?
Of course, anyone with the list could be suspect, but the issue is, there's only one washed-away mobster. Whether it was Kingpin's doing or not, he would certainly be the prime suspect.
Kingpin immediately ordered one of his subordinates who had called in, "Go check if there have been any strange incidents around here recently, especially thefts and the like."
Kingpin and Peter waited in the room for a long while. The guests downstairs grew impatient. Suddenly, a professionally dressed lady entered and said, "Sir, I've already reported to you before, your golden fountain pen from the study is missing. We've searched the entire palace and found no clues. Surveillance cameras didn't catch anything."
"The study?!" Kingpin was again surprised. He rushed downstairs with his people to the study where he usually worked.
The room was still decorated lavishly, with various sculptures bought at great expense from around the world, and even the tabletop was sprinkled with gold leaf, dazzling to the point of blinding.
Peter could hardly accept such aesthetics, but he chose to respect them. He walked up to the desk and said, "Your pen is missing and you don't know about it? And it's gold?"
"Gold-plated," Kingpin said. "Even if it were solid gold, it wouldn't be worth much. When did the pen go missing?"
"About last Wednesday. I reported it several times, but you didn't answer me."
"I thought it had just fallen into some corner. We would have found it naturally during the big clean-up. It's not the first time you guys have done something like this."
The domestic manageress was visibly embarrassed. They had indeed lost small items before, but it was inevitable. And for just a fountain pen, which wasn't worth much, why fuss so much?
"What were you doing at that time?"
"I was actually considering the candidates for the manager. I had wanted to choose Beck," Kingpin recalled Sandman's name. He said, "But his boss called earlier and said that he had a bad temper, didn't follow rules, and would surely mess everything up as a manager. So, I was hesitant."
"Could someone have overheard this call?"
"Unlikely..." Kingpin started to say impossible, but he thought that although ordinary people couldn't, an invisible person was another story.
Kingpin's old home was guarded so tightly that even Spider Man's ease of entry wasn't due to his strength; it was because Kingpin had put him on the whitelist, facilitating his access.
No one else could possibly bypass the first line of defense, and even if it were Captain America, he'd have to fight at the second line, making it impossible for him to sneak in quietly.
"All of our surveillance rooms are equipped with sophisticated thermal imaging..."
"Thermal imaging won't pick it up," Peter said, "I tried it. The other party might be from the Magic Side."
Kingpin fell silent, then said, "I don't know much about magic."
Everyone else also remained silent, as they all knew little about magic; until recently, it had been a niche interest. Even notorious criminals were unlikely to encounter a mage, so ignorance was the norm.
"I'll give the Temple a call," Kingpin said, "If it's something to do with the Magic Side, they have to take responsibility. I pay them so much in taxes every year..."
"Hold on a second," Peter said, "Do you want everyone to know the list leaked from you?"
Kingpin paused, looking at Peter strangely, "Aren't our roles reversed? Shouldn't you be the one rushing to make the call, while I try to cover it up?"
"If calling the police could solve the problem, I'd let the sirens bring down your building," Peter said. "Once the leak becomes public knowledge, and someone gets abducted because of it, everyone on that list will panic, maybe even give up on interviewing. What then? How will the third phase of selection work, let alone future ones?"
"Moreover, your involvement as an investor isn't exactly flattering. I assume you haven't announced it publicly, right? If people found out the former mob boss had a hand in building the Space Station, especially with it coming from you, the President and his advisors would personally come to throw you into the sea."
Kingpin coughed twice, a bit embarrassed. Although insiders knew he had gone legit, the public might find it too progressive. Everyone knew he was the East Coast mob Godfather, and his sudden involvement in a venture as grand as the cosmos would make those in the know understand his intent to clean up, while the rest might think he planned to extend his criminal empire to space.
With the election not far away, and the public already dissatisfied with the East Coast's security situation, any progress made was at risk of being undone if the mob became involved. This would be a devastating blow to the incumbent party's popular support.
Not wanting to antagonize the President, Kingpin then said, "I don't believe this guy is completely invisible. He must have used some external means. Since that's the case, he can't be truly untraceable. Looks like I'll have to ask for that guy's help again."
"Who?"
"Daredevil Matt."
In a small villa in Queens District, Matt was lifting a baby from the cradle. While holding the baby, he gently rocked and hummed a tune, suddenly hearing some noise upstairs.
He placed the baby in the stroller and pushed it to the top of the stairs, then climbed a few steps and called out, "What's wrong? Erica? Are you awake?"
"Your phone is ringing," came Erica's sleepy voice from upstairs, "Go take it. I need to sleep a bit more, the baby cried too much last night; I'm exhausted."
Matt tiptoed upstairs to grab his phone and pushed the stroller out to the yard. Glancing at the caller ID, his face immediately darkened.
"Why are you calling me, Kingpin?... Your birthday? Don't tell me you want me to... Oh, thanks, he turns one in 12 days. I'll have a little celebration but what do you really want?!"