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Chapter 27: Don't Panic, Call the Police First
Every family has blind spots that others cannot see. Many envy Michael's family and his house because it was not an easy feat to move into a middle-class residential compound at such a young age.
But who would have thought that the house might not be as perfect as Lynch imagined? Some outdated appliances hadn't been replaced, some wallpapers were faintly showing a hint of decayed yellow, decorative plasterboards were starting to crack, and some floors, worn and worm-eaten over time, were no longer as stable as before.
Every family had similar problems; some were related to decoration and furnishings, while others involved family relationships.
Fortunately, Michael's job nature and his workplace ensured that there wouldn't be significant issues in their family relationships. The management of the critical departments ensured their family's well-being, ensuring they had enough to eat and even some extra money.
As long as financial freedom was achieved, most of the time, the relationships between family members wouldn't sour. Emotions and warmth, fundamentally, were built upon material comforts.
When the News Head”s shoe stepped on a floorboard that Michael's wife had mentioned changing twice but hadn't, a creaking sound echoed in the empty house. At midnight, any sound from the living room was enough to make many people's nerves tense in the darkness.
Michael's wife switched on the light, walked to the door, and pressed her ear against it, listening to the noises outside. She was alone in the house today; their maid wasn't a live-in type, and their house wasn't a villa or a mansion but just an ordinary detached house in a middle-class residential compound.
They didn't have spare bedrooms or bathrooms for the maid's use. Also, since their child were still at the full-time private school, there was no one else in the house but her.
This woman in her thirties listened carefully for a while. It seemed there were no more noises in the downstairs living room. The sound she had heard just now felt like an illusion, not so vivid.
Facing the door, she hesitated. Should she go out and check?
Usually, Michael was at home, and she never realized that a big house could give her such a terrifying feeling as it did now. It was just a door's distance, yet it became the boundary between light and darkness.
Opening the door, facing the darkness— not everyone had that courage.
Meanwhile, with a gun in his hand, the News Head tiptoed upstairs, his gaze fierce and slightly mad, fixated on the light beneath the door crack in the corridor upstairs. Those lights seemed to want to break free from the narrow gap, illuminating the room and dispelling the darkness, but they were too weak, only brightening the floor inches beyond the gap.
Barefoot and moving slowly, he reached the door of the master bedroom. He knew that the noise caused by him stepping on the floor just now might have alerted someone inside the room. He waited, waiting for the other person to open the door voluntarily.
A few seconds later, Michael's wife, somewhat hesitant, opened the door. A grotesque face instantly occupied her entire field of vision. Before her scream of fear could even sound for half a second, it was met with a punch that silenced her!
Outside the house, Lynch saw two shadows quickly flash past the window through the partially shaded curtains. The abrupt scream ceased suddenly, not even disturbing the neighbors nearby.
Lynch tidied up his tools, silently climbed down from the utility pole, glanced at the lit windows, and then headed towards the front gate.
If the News Head hadn't come looking for him and was willing to take the loss silently, there wouldn't have been the News Head and his story in this whole incident.
But he wasn't willing to take the loss quietly and came to confront him. This meant the News Head was an unstable element, potentially a significant troublemaker, especially considering his greed that might turn into a dagger aimed at Lynch.
Once Michael trusted him, convinced that his money was withheld by Lynch, they might likely join forces. That wasn't a scenario Lynch favored.
When enemies could join hands, it meant facing more unexpected troubles. So he had given the News Head a hint.
He intended to teach Michael a lesson that would deeply affect him but also take the opportunity to deal with the News Head. Otherwise, if the News Head started blabbering at the police station, there was a high chance he'd shift the blame onto Lynch.
That was what Lynch was most worried about. He wasn't an influential figure in the Baylor Federation. Even in this small city, Sabin City, not many people heard of his name.
The head of a federal regional tax bureau investigation team framing someone might not be beyond the realm of possibility. In this process, with the involvement of someone like the News Head, who would cooperate with Michael by smearing themselves, there was indeed a chance that Lynch would be caught by them.
After absorbing a wealth of knowledge in that small cell, he arrived at a conclusion: it's best not to let potential enemies form alliances. The more people involved, the stronger their courage; eventually, they will turn 'possibility' into 'reality'.
Success or failure was just an attempt for them, but for Lynch himself, it could be devastating. The best solution was to 'deal with' them before they united, making it impossible for them to become a whole.
Lynch sprinted towards the guard post, quickly finding the security on duty. After briefing him about his findings, the security immediately took it seriously.
When Michael discovered Lynch's presence in the neighborhood where he lived, he specifically asked the residential compound’s service company to take extra care of their house. He had also expressed concern about leaving his wife alone at home while he was on an assignment.
In regard to Michael's entrustment, the service company assured that they would definitely make every effort to fulfill his request. After all, he was the head of the local tax bureau investigation team and still held some power.
The service company handed this matter over to the security personnel. Upon hearing about the situation, the security didn't dare to be negligent. Not only did they use the walkie-talkie to summon more people, but those on duty at the guard booth also immediately ran towards Michael's house.
Seeing that the other batch of patrolling security hadn't arrived yet, one security guard gritted his teeth and rushed towards the door, loudly inquiring about the situation inside the house.
Sometimes, raising an alarm wasn't to remind the criminals that the people coming to catch them had arrived. It was to try and stop the criminal activity through this means. The police or the investigation bureau weren't that foolish.
Suddenly, the curtains on the second floor were lifted, and the News Head, terrified, looked at the security jumping into the yard. He glanced back at Michael's wife, who had lost the courage to resist him, clenched the gun in his hand, and decided to flee immediately.
He wasn't here to die; he was here for revenge. Even though he hadn't completed his initial plan entirely, he had somewhat avenged himself. There was no need to stay here.
He tightened the belt he had loosened a moment ago, dashed out of the room, and flipped down from the second floor. Before he could run out, the door was pushed open.
Their eyes met, the confrontation and the distant sound of a whistle immediately made the News Head snap out of his panic. He instinctively pulled out the gun from his pocket, shouting as he ran towards the door, "Don't force me, get away from the door!"
Facing the threat of a gun, most people wouldn't think their flesh and blood could withstand a bullet's harm. The security guard's scalp tingled, and he raised his hands in surrender...
Seeing this scene, the News Head's face twisted with a smirk.
He once again realized the power of this little cutie in his hand.
Witnessing the News Head's departure, the security rushed upstairs to find Michael's wife while using the walkie-talkie to inform other guards about the situation.
In less than thirty seconds, the police sirens sounded outside the residential compound—the areas where the middle-class gathered always had many police patrol cars. Some affluent residential compounds even had two to three police cars stationed there year-round.
As for some poorer areas or slums, of course, the authorities would never acknowledge such a concept. In those areas, forget about police cars; they didn't even have patrolling officers.
This society was straightforward in its treatment—how much value one had determined how society treated them.
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