The charity commission.
Mr. Clark's office.
Otis, wearing a black suit, sat on the solid wood carved sofa in the office with a stony face. He did not want to be overly
conspicuous, so he did not wear a military uniform today.
Eugene stood next to him cautiously, watching Otis's face from tto tand trembling.
Otis stared coldly at the painting in front of him, and the open safe behind the painting.
He knew Mr. Clark hid the cash and gold bars in the safe.
He also knew the password, and his fingerprints were recorded, so he could open the safe at any time.
In the safe, more than half of the money was his.
"Damn."
Otis slammed his fist into the back of the couch.
The thin wooden bars of the fragile sofa were immediately broken by his smash.
The back of his hand was bruised, and his face was burning with anger.
"Mr. Robertson, your hand..." Eugene glanced at Otis's wrist, which was oozing blood, and cautiously warned.
"On the surface, they cfor him, but actually they cfor me. How brave!" Otis was furious.
"Mr. Robertson, we have been traveling a lot lately and moving around a lot. Will this cause suspicion within the military?" Eugene
asked.
"Impossible. I've been doing everything beyond their reach, and it's impossible for them to know about what | did. Besides, no one
even knows about it." Otis' face was gloomy and his long eyebrows were furrowed.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtHis long-term layout had only just begun, so how could it possibly leak out already?
"He was the only one who knew about the funds. | didn't tell anyone. Unless ..." Otis glanced coldly at Eugene.
Eugene's face turned pale and he fell to his knees with a "thud.”
"Mr. Robertson, | didn’t do it. | absolutely did not leak anything. My life belongs to Mr. Robertson, and | will never betray Mr.
Robertson!" He was scared half to death. Otis's methods, he knew them all too well, and if Otis wanted to get rid of him, Otis would
definitely make his life worse than death.
Otis was a master of torturing, and at that time, a bullet would be a great gift.
Otis said dismissively, "Get up. | didn't say it was you."
He knew Eugene would never dare. There had to be someone else.
Eugene got up from the ground and analyzed, "Mr. Robertson, no one else knows about this. If Mr. Clark had not died, it could be
that Mr. Clark might want to swallow the huge sum of money himself. But now Mr. Clark is dead, and it was perhaps a heart attack.
That means Mr. Clark must not know about the leak of the safe."
"Bullshit." Otis looked impatient.
"I'm sorry." Eugene lowered his head, "Mr. Robertson, could it be just an ordinary theft case. Mr. Clark was usually too flamboyant
and liked to show off his wealth, which must have attracted the attention of thieves."
"Impossible." Otis shook his head, "They checked all the internal and external surveillance from the road, and found no trace at all.
The access control system is intact and the lock on his office has not been broken. And the person who opened the lock on the safe
had his fingerprints."
Otis slammed his fist into the couch again, furious.
"Damn it. So much money and gold bars. It's impossible to ship them all out at once. It was obviously a well-planned gang
operation."
"Mr. Robertson, I'm too stupid to think of any other possibilities. Who could it be?"
Eugene lowered his head almost to his chest, desperately afraid of being implicated in Otis' anger.
Otis took his two cell phones out of his pocket.
One public and one private phone.
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