Chương 58: A Deadly Inheritance: Turnbull's Sinister Scheme
Thankfully, judging by the signal's last known time, Alfred concluded that Bruce was likely still close by.
Alfred glanced at another screen on his left, displaying a frozen image—not due to lag, but because their adversaries were waiting for Batman to appear. In the screen's corner, a countdown was ticking down.
Only 18 minutes and 56 seconds left until the appointed time.
Time continued ticking away.
"After that…"
Bruce and Harvey, blindfolded, were taken to an unknown location in Jeffrey Turnbull's car.
Unlike the first group of amateurs, this crew's experience showed. By blindfolding them, they ensured that even if Bruce or Harvey somehow managed to call for help, the time it would take to describe their location could significantly delay any rescue efforts.
With his vision blocked, Bruce's other senses were heightened. Although he kept up an act of nervousness, internally, he was analyzing the situation with calm focus.
Turnbull's choice not to kill them on the spot but instead take them somewhere meant he likely intended to negotiate something with Harvey or leverage him somehow. This suggested that, at least in the short term, their lives weren't in immediate danger.
But it wasn't a guarantee—if negotiations broke down, the chance of their execution would be high.
Bruce mentally ran through the gadgets concealed on him, formulating a rough plan. The real challenge was that if Bruce Wayne suddenly started fighting like a seasoned warrior, it might raise suspicions about his true identity. He couldn't risk exposing himself, especially in front of Harvey.
A thought flickered through his mind: abandoning his public identity might make things easier. But he dismissed it just as quickly—there were more urgent issues at hand.
Carefully counting the minutes in his head, Bruce estimated it had been around thirty minutes when the vehicle finally stopped. He and Harvey were shoved out, led into a building, and walked for about five minutes before being brought to a halt.
Next, Bruce heard Jeffrey's voice.
"Remove the blindfold," he said.
Bruce quickly inferred that this was likely directed at Harvey, as no one came over to take off his own blindfold.
"What exactly are you trying to do here?" Harvey's voice, tense with barely suppressed anger, broke the silence. His expression, if visible, would surely reflect his frustration.
Jeffrey replied with an air of calm, as if addressing a minor inconvenience. "I'm not trying to do anything harmful. I simply want to discuss a small matter with you."
"You want me to drop the charges I filed against you, don't you?" Harvey's expression softened as he spoke, and a subtle calculation flickered in his gaze. For now, keeping calm and biding his time seemed wise; survival took priority, and he knew when to be adaptable. But if he did make it out alive, he fully intended to see this man face justice.
As Harvey's gaze drifted through the chemical factory window to the dark waters of the Gotham River outside, he couldn't help but recall all the bodies Turnbull's organization had disposed of over the years. He doubted even Turnbull himself could remember the total count.
The thought made him scoff internally.
"Oh, Harvey, don't misunderstand me," Jeffrey continued with a faint smile as he stepped down from the platform and approached Harvey. Despite his grandfatherly demeanor, his reputation left no doubt—this was a man whose hands were steeped in blood, the architect of a criminal empire built on terror.
"No," Jeffrey said slowly, "I simply thought we might strike up a friendship." He paused, his tone casual but heavy with underlying menace.
The words caught Harvey off guard, and for a moment, he was visibly taken aback. But he quickly regained his composure, well aware of the kind of trap that likely awaited him. No doubt, Turnbull had a carefully laid plan behind his seemingly friendly offer.
Keeping his thoughts concealed, Harvey put on a mask of polite curiosity and asked, "Oh?"
Jeffrey glanced over at Bruce, his lips curling in a sly grin. "In fact, this idea only came to me when I saw Mr. Wayne here."
At this, both Bruce and Harvey froze. Neither had anticipated Jeffrey dragging Bruce—who had no connection to the situation—into the center of this scheme.
"Actually," Jeffrey went on, "I have here a transfer of inheritance document, and I thought, Harvey, perhaps you could act as a witness for me."
Whose inheritance transfer?!
Both Bruce and Harvey felt a surge of dread as an unsettling suspicion formed. Harvey was the first to voice the critical question with a frown: "Who exactly are the assignor and assignee in this transfer?"
Jeffrey gave a thin smile. "Why, Mr. Wayne, of course, transferring all his assets to…"
Before he could finish, Harvey cut him off, voice full of disdain. "You're not even a friend of Bruce's—why would he name you in any inheritance transfer? Even if a signature holds legal weight, you should know that any contract signed under duress is invalid. Do you think outsiders are so gullible? Do you think they won't see right through this? And anyone close to Wayne would never accept this. Surely you must realize that."
In fact, no stakeholder would ever allow it.
Listening to their exchange, Bruce couldn't help but think wryly to himself: The Kane family isn't exactly dead, you know.
If this scheme actually went forward, Kate Kane and her family would certainly not stand idly by.
"No, I meant my daughter would be the assignee." Jeffrey turned his gaze to Bruce, who remained silent. "After all, my daughter is carrying his child. Isn't it perfectly reasonable for a man to leave his fortune to the mother of his child?"
The room fell silent as his words sank in.
Harvey's first instinct was to glance at Bruce, but with Bruce still blindfolded, there was no way to make eye contact. The prosecutor stood there, speechless, his expression as close to shock as he'd allow.
As for Bruce, his initial reaction was one of outright denial. Since he had started dating Avery, he hadn't been with any other women.
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