Mace Alkmaar learned about her younger brother's hunting news, but she didn't have the energy to focus on such trifles for the time being. She was extremely busy. There was a hidden competitor in the spice business. The competitor had offered more attractive terms to the suppliers and promised that they could sell in Brot City. This was an open declaration of war against the Alkmaar family's spice business that Mace was in charge of.
What kind of person would have such crazy business behavior? It was almost unbelievable. The Alkmaar family in Brot City was known to everyone. Naturally, the suppliers didn't believe that the other party could break into the spice business in Brot City. But that hidden competitor offered more appealing conditions.
Pay all the purchase price in advance and split the sales profit fifty - fifty. It was full of sincerity, which made those suppliers start to be tempted. When the Alkmaar family cooperated with those suppliers, they always prepaid 20% of the purchase price first. After the spices were sold, they shared the profit. The suppliers could get 30% of the profit, while the Alkmaar family got 70%.
"Madman, you want to destroy the spice business." Mace exploded with anger that didn't match her temperament. She pounded her fist on the table, and her fingernails dug into her skin. Blood flowed out. She had once tried to use some money to bribe the suppliers to make them tell her information about that hidden competitor.
But those suppliers seemed to have received even greater benefits from the other side. They didn't buy Mace's bribe at all. They even threatened Mace that if someone intended to use violence to interfere and break the rules of doing business, they would mercilessly stop supplying goods to the Alkmaar family.
Mace tried to send people to investigate that hidden competitor, but those sent either found nothing or disappeared without a trace, as if they had vanished forever.
Now the fifth undercover agent had disappeared. Mace was almost driven crazy by this matter. She felt that she couldn't solve this matter alone at present and needed to consult a big shot and seek help.
Clark, the local red wine dealer, was already white - haired. He had handed over most of his business to his descendants, and he was enjoying a happy old - age life. His thinking was still clear, and his bright eyes were like those of a young man. This was due to his love for playing chess. A game of chess could keep his mind active and prevent him from getting Alzheimer's like other old people.
Besides, he was also enthusiastic about many things, such as gardening and dog - raising. Clark was still in good health and could afford these things.
"Poppy, you should eat more." The old man, dressed in simple clothes, poured the prepared meat into the dog food bowl, and then affectionately stroked each dog's fur and head. He could clearly call out the name of each dog. Poppy was one of them.
He walked to the corner, picked up a shovel, and shoveled away the thick snow in front of the apartment. Clark's old - age life was so comfortable. This was the dream of many people.
Suddenly, more than a dozen dogs barked loudly. Clark raised his head and saw a figure outside the fence, a young man in a pitch - black linen trench coat. His face was covered by a top hat.
"Hi, you should be quiet." Clark made the dozen or so dogs quiet and walked to the young man standing outside the fence. "Young man, it seems that you have something to do."
The young man took off his top hat, revealing his handsome face, and put the hat on his chest to salute. "Mr. Clark, I'm sorry to bother you. I'm Fonte, a staff member of the First Court in Brot City. I want to ask you something. Are you convenient to have a talk with me?"
A staff member of the First Court? Clark didn't like that place because he had once suffered a great loss there. However, out of politeness, he couldn't turn away a court staff member at the door.
The fireplace in the room was burning brightly, making the apartment warm and cozy, and there was no sense of the cold winter at all. Fonte sat on the sofa and watched the old man pour two cups of hot coffee for himself and the guest. Then the old man walked over with vigorous steps and handed him one of the cups.
"Thank you." Fonte took the coffee and took a sip, driving away the coldness in his body.
"Young man, I don't know why you are looking for me, but to be honest, I don't like people from the court very much." Clark drank his hot coffee and made his position clear. "But that's just my personal feeling. If the court wants me to assist in investigating some cases, as a citizen, I have reason to tell you everything."
Fonte looked at the old man with admiration. "Your quick thinking doesn't match your age. Since you've guessed it, I can skip the opening remarks."
Clark raised his right hand and stretched out his index finger. His bright eyes showed wisdom as he signaled Fonte not to be in a hurry. "Just a simple conversation is too boring. We can find some fun to make the conversation more interesting."
Fonte didn't know what the old man was going to do. He watched the old man mysteriously take out a huge box from a room in the apartment, put it on the table in front of him, sit down, and open the box with an excited and enthusiastic expression. "Come on, young man, play a game of chess with me. The damn snow has made old Coles unable to come and play chess with me. You will take his place. This won't interfere with your work."
After retiring, Clark lived here. His descendants were busy with their own affairs, and no one was willing to accompany this old man. So he had to find some fun by himself. Gardening, dog - raising, and playing chess with the equally old Coles were all ways for him to have fun and kill time.
What an interesting old man. Fonte fiddled with the chess pieces without forgetting his real business. "Mr. Clark, I'm here to ask you about a red wine case you once submitted to the court and finally lost. I've checked the files and found a lot of doubts. For example, your lawyer suddenly died suddenly at that time, and when you had all the advantages, you lost the case after the court reopened. What on earth happened?"
Clark's hand that was fiddling with the chess pieces trembled a little. He looked up at the young man in front of him, and his face became flushed. The old man, who had been calm just now, was a little excited. "That damn case is my eternal pain. My lawyer had a problem at the most crucial moment, which made me finally lose to my opponent."
"Do you suspect that there was something wrong with the case?" Fonte led Clark to tell some hidden facts he knew.
"No, there was no problem with the court in that case. The court couldn't support a person who couldn't even organize the favorable evidence to refute the other side in a hurry because of the lawyer's unexpected death." Clark explained very seriously. "Although I hate that the court ruled against me, I can't slander the fairness of the judiciary. At that time, in order to prevent the other side from grasping our counter - attack strategy, I made a serious mistake. I didn't put those evidences in writing but let the lawyer remember them in his mind and state them in court."
But it was all messed up because of the lawyer's unexpected death. Clark swore solemnly. "But losing the case doesn't mean that I was the evil side. Just because of the lack of the evidence chain, I lost that lawsuit. Do you understand what I mean?"
What a brilliant plan. Even Clark, who had personally experienced that lawsuit, couldn't find any flaws. He attributed the reason for losing the case to the lawyer's death instead of suspecting that the opponent had done something underhanded. Alkmaar was a genius. But Fonte didn't believe it. He firmly believed that there must be something wrong here.
"What was the cause of the lawyer's death?" Fonte didn't intend to give up.
"Heart disease." Clark recalled the scene at that time. "The doctor diagnosed that he had heart disease. It's really a pity. He was a healthy, energetic young man with great prospects in the judiciary at that time, but suddenly he got heart disease. It's unbelievable."
"Hereditary?"
"No, his family doesn't have a hereditary heart disease. It should be acquired." Clark frowned. "The doctor couldn't find the cause either. Illness is like a devil, always without warning. So I often persuade my descendants to take care of their bodies. You too, young man. Pay more attention to your life. Don't always be so diligent and desperate."
There was no family history of heart disease, and a healthy young man suddenly got heart disease and the cause couldn't be found. Fonte thanked the old man for his concern. "Do you still remember the lawyer's grave? I want to pay my respects. Although we've never met, he was as diligent and hard - working as me. It's worth my making a trip there myself."
"Wilson Cemetery, White Bryant." Clark dropped a chess piece on the chessboard. "Young man, you lost."
Fonte shook his head. "It seems that I need to practice more and strive to have a chance to compete with you again and win back."
"Then you have a lot to do." Clark was in a very good mood after winning the chess game.
"Well, I should leave. I played a game of chess with an old man during working hours. My boss will surely punish me for this." Fonte joked as he got up, put on his trench coat, and left.
Wilson Cemetery was a large cemetery. Almost all the middle - class people in Brot City would be buried there after death. Every day, there were quite a few people going to the cemetery to pay their respects to their friends and relatives, and there were also cemetery keepers. Digging someone else's grave was not an honorable thing. It was better to act at night.
Back in the office, soon someone knocked on the office door.
Luke walked in. His waxed brown leather boots were very eye - catching. "Fonte, how is the work? A smart person like you staying in this position is really a waste of your talent."
"It would be great if there was a beautiful assistant with me." Fonte showed his humorous side while guessing what kind of instructions Alkmaar wanted Luke to convey. The favorite of Alkmaar wouldn't come specifically to knock on his office door just for a compliment.
"Let's talk about something serious, Mr. Fonte. Mr. Alkmaar has a little problem in his business. Someone is going to oppose Alkmaar. We need a smart person like you to go and have a look and dig out his information so that I can give Mr. Alkmaar an account." Luke wiped his palms with a silk scarf. His mysophobia was quite serious. He might feel uncomfortable even if he got someone else's smell, but Alkmaar was an exception.
"Okay, glad to be of service." Fonte agreed without hesitation. "However, you have to tell me the specific matter."
Luke handed the envelope with the relevant information to Fonte and then turned around and left. But he couldn't understand Mr. Alkmaar's decision. He handed such an important task to this malicious - hearted young man. Originally, when he heard Mace's plea for help, Luke planned to send a few reliable undercover agents to investigate. The Alkmaar family kept many excellent undercover agents. Although those people's abilities were not as good as Fonte's, they were enough to investigate the opposing merchant.
When he told Alkmaar his decision, Alkmaar vetoed his plan and firmly wanted to send this young man to investigate. He had to go and ask clearly.