Chapter 387

“Beno?”

Alan, looking at Beno leaning against the panel van smoking, called his name several times, but he didn’t respond.

He peeked his head out and saw that he seemed to be daydreaming.

He walked over and knocked on the side of the van next to him, which gave him a big scare.

“Fu—what’s wrong?” The cigarette in his hand slipped from his grasp, and he focused his attention on not letting it fall on his clothes.

After two or three seconds, the cigarette butt sparked on the ground and was then stamped out by his foot.

“What’s wrong?” He turned his head to look at Alan. “I was just thinking about something, didn’t hear you.”

Alan pointed behind him. “I’m loading the goods. You go and sign the form.”

He looked at Beno. “If you have something on your mind, tell me. We’re brothers, I’ll help you solve it!”

Alan felt that everyone was family, especially the people around him. The days he spent with them were very happy.

Whether it was working or going on a mission, this was the life he had always dreamed of.

He didn’t want this kind of life to be destroyed, especially by the people he was closest to.

If Beno or the others were really moles, if they told him now, he would go and plead with Elvin.

He believed that Elvin would definitely give him this face. Although doing so might make some people feel it wasn’t worth it, he thought it was.

These were his brothers.

They hadn’t lied to him.

Beno didn’t know if he could feel it, but the emotions contained in Alan’s eyes, that sincerity, made him feel a little guilty.

He turned his head and looked elsewhere. “I’m fine, everything is fine. I’ll go sign the form.”

He patted Alan’s arm, walked around him, and headed towards the back.

They were loading liquor. This batch was to be sent to the bars.

The matter of signing the form was Mello’s request. He had to keep track of how much liquor they sold each day and how much money came back, to ensure that no one was messing with the company’s books.

In fact, some people were still messing with the books and had been caught and punished, but this kind of thing was unstoppable.

As the price of liquor got higher and higher, there would always be people who were not satisfied with their current honest income and would take risks to find ways to get some money.

The last guy they caught was a bartender. He would add more crushed ice to each glass, and then he could save two glasses from each bottle.

He would pocket the income from this saved liquor.

Because there was only the bartender at the bar, and these bars were not very large, the cash drawer was right in front of him.

People couldn’t see whether he was putting the money into the drawer or into his own pocket.

At first, he only took twenty dollars, once every two or three days.

Later, when he found that no one had discovered what he was doing, it became a daily thing, and then thirty, forty, fifty dollars a day.

At most, he had taken over a hundred dollars in one day.

The books could be balanced. Except that the customers would feel that they had drunk a mouthful less than usual and the taste was a bit bland, they couldn’t actually taste much of a difference.

Until someone felt that the liquor was not right. He ordered four glasses, and then quickly, in front of everyone, strained out the ice cubes.

People saw that about a fifth of the liquor was missing from the glasses, and then they got angry.

For drunkards, you can curse them, even hit them, but you shouldn’t short them on their liquor, especially when the price of liquor is constantly rising.

He couldn’t explain the reason. Then someone said that he had been spending money lavishly lately.

No matter how harmonious the Lance Family was, it couldn’t change the fact that it was a “family.”

In front of his family, the bartender couldn’t lie. He confessed his actions, and Lance had him punished.

He was transferred from the bar to patrol duty, but because of this incident, everyone’s income was increased by another ten dollars.

Lance told them that if someone was putting money from the company’s books into their own pocket, either this person was too greedy, or they were paying too little.

He didn’t know if the fifty dollars he was paying was considered too little, but he gave another ten dollars. Now everyone could get a salary of at least sixty dollars a month, even if they did nothing.

If you did a little bit of work, you could actually get a lot of money.

The bartender’s income was not low either, two hundred a month. But compared to the “quick money” of at most a hundred a day, his income was indeed not high.

After this incident, everyone was very careful and was abiding by the regulations.

Including Alan and his crew. When they delivered goods, they also had to sign multiple times to ensure that every link was without problems. Some people felt that they were more formal than those big companies.

They were clearly a family, a gang, yet they were doing legitimate work. This might make many people feel a bit of a contrast.

Looking at Beno’s departing back, Alan shook his head. He returned to the back of the van and began to move the liquor inside.

Beno, walking towards the warehouse, was constantly in a daze because of Lukar’s death, his mind wandering.

Lukar was dead. The body with the smashed face was discovered by an old man wandering in the park, who then called the police.

When the police arrived, Lukar was already lying naked on the ground, with only his underwear left.

His shirt, pants, belt, shoes, and even his socks had been taken by the nearby homeless people.

The scene was completely destroyed, but the coroner still knew from his death that this person had died from craniocerebral injury caused by multiple blows to the face with a blunt instrument.

It was just that the face was smashed a bit abstractly, and they couldn’t tell who he was for a while—neither the police nor the coroner would stare at a corpse for a long time thinking about whether they had seen this person before.

There were so many cases in Golden Port recently, they had no time to manage these. After someone reported a missing person, they could find the deceased’s information by comparison.

As for no one reporting it?

That was fucking great. This case would be treated as if it had never happened.

Every year, there would be many such cases that eventually became records in a file bag in a corner of the archives, and then after being sealed for a period of time, they would be completely destroyed.

As if those people had never come into this world.

Lukar’s wife reported it to the police, after Lukar hadn’t returned the next day either.

At first, they didn’t think in that direction, but after asking everyone and no one knew where Lukar had gone, and the city government had dealt with a case of overtime parking…

After verification, the car parked outside the park for many days belonged to Lukar. They then found Lukar’s body in the cold storage.

After being identified by an acquaintance, the person lying inside was him.

Lukar was dead. There was no doubt that this was a revenge killing, but at this critical moment, Dale didn’t dare to publicize it with great fanfare.

The senator was in this city, and they had even spoken on the phone.

If at this time he said that his subordinate had been killed in a revenge killing, it would make it seem… that he actually had no ability.

For the gentlemen in Congress, you could be greedy, lecherous, and have many shortcomings, but there was one thing you had to have, and that was ability.

So in the end, Lukar’s death was miraculously classified as “killed in a robbery,” and the reason and evidence was that all his belongings were gone.

Then the police station here arrested a few homeless people, threw them in prison, and the matter was considered over.

But Beno knew that Lukar’s death was not that simple.

He couldn’t say now whether he felt a little relieved or a little heavier.

Without Lukar, no one would know that he was a mole, but he wasn’t sure if Lukar had left any documents or the like. He was very conflicted.

He walked into the warehouse, took the clipboard from the “manager,” and at the other’s request, filled in the quantity of the liquor, his own name, and the confirmation signature for which bar it was to be sent to.

“Hasn’t this bar already been raided?” he asked casually, looking at the address and the name of the bar.

The manager shrugged. “Who knows?”

“Maybe it’s open again.”

“Maybe they also think we wouldn’t possibly reopen at a raided old site?”

He checked the signature, ticked a few places himself, and then said, “Alright, you’re done.”

“Remember to close the iron gate when you leave.”

Beno bumped fists with him and turned to leave. Everything was very normal, calm, with nothing out of place.

He returned outside. Alan had already moved everything onto the truck.

Recently he had learned to drive. Before, it was always Beno who drove. He said with a smile that if one day Beno wasn’t there, he couldn’t just not be able to drive.

Learning to drive was very simple for them, because the family had a large number of cars. As long as you wanted to learn, you could learn very quickly.

“Didn’t run into any problems, did you?” Alan looked at him. “If you have any problems, you must tell me. We’ll solve them together!”

Beno shook his head and smiled. “What problems could there be?”

Seeing that the other party didn’t react, Alan could only temporarily push these thoughts down. The car started slowly and soon disappeared into the city.

What Beno didn’t know was that the delivery form he had just signed was soon delivered to Lance’s office.

“This is the last one!” Lance put more than a dozen various documents together and handed them to the handwriting professor.

The handwriting professor beamed with joy as he put away these documents. “Mr. Lance, you can rest assured. In at most five days, I will be able to find out who wrote that note.”

There were several notes, most of which were written by Lukar himself, but the handwriting on one of them was significantly different from Lukar’s.

Various characteristics were telling him that this person was not Lukar.

So naturally, Lance had found a way to have everyone reasonably leave their handwriting, without them noticing.

Lance opened a drawer, took out another thousand dollars from it, and handed it over. “Work hard during this time. This result is very important to me.”

The professor looked at the thousand dollars, and his face bloomed like a flower.

“No problem, Mr. Lance. I promise that besides eating and sleeping, I will use all my other time to push it forward.”

“Maybe we’ll be lucky, and the first one will be this person.”

Lance also said with a smile, “I hope so.”

(End of chapter)