Chapter 35

Far away in Currilan City, Michael was still buried in work. Currilan City had invited them to assist in cracking the Biddle Group financial case, and as an IRS Investigation Unit Team Leader, Michael quickly noticed that something was off.

It was not that he had found some lead connected to the Biddle Group itself. It was that, among the evidence Currilan City had already entered into the record, part of it was problematic.

Put simply, there were errors in how some of the evidence had been collected, and there were issues with the sources of certain data contained in some of it.

Whether it was a tax case or an ordinary criminal case, in essence it was still a matter of accumulation, a process in which quantity turned into quality.

Investigators had to gather clues bit by bit, assemble evidence, then join that evidence into a complete chain, and in the end send the defendant to the bar for judgment.

The whole process was linked piece by piece. Yet in the clues and evidence he saw, there were some small flaws.

He did not point them out.

That sort of thing was normal. When the people above were determined to make certain people pay, the question of whether the evidence had been lawfully obtained would draw no attention at all, so long as the matter had not been dragged into the open.

Michael himself felt that this might have something to do with the fact that Biddle Group was a multinational concern involving foreign capital. The great capitalists of the Federation had never been merchants who competed honestly. Their abilities in other areas were far more outstanding than their actual ability to run a business.

Then, all at once, the telephone rang, and it startled him badly. Because this was a major case, the Investigation Unit was required to observe confidentiality rules, meaning no outside communication, and no one was permitted to leave his post alone or slip out of everyone else’s sight.

Michael had never considered that the telephone on his own desk might ring at all.

He hesitated for a moment, then picked it up. He noticed several locals immediately staring at him, the kind of stare that did not care whether he noticed it or not.

It was his wife calling. With a light push of his toe against the floor, he turned his swivel chair so his back faced the others. “Darling, is there something so urgent it can’t wait until I come back?”