I'm wondering what news Leo got for me. He is the key to obtaining more info on Taylor.

"Have you got anything on George Taylor, Leo?" I ask him with a confident smile once we meet in the usual café, yet he only pouts at me.

"Not really."

My smile drops and I start getting concerned. "Isn't he a police officer? Why can't you find any information on him?"

"Well, to be honest, nothing good..."

I sigh. "Please go straight to the point, Leo."

"Let's put it that way. We already know that Taylor was Bryar's partner, and that he died in the line of duty. Normally, I should be able to check Taylor's personal archives for info or look for Taylor's name on the police memorial. But none of these have anything on Taylor!"

My eyes widened as my concerns are confirmed. "But, officer Bryar told me-"

"From what I know, we have no reason to believe that he lied. I can only conclude that Taylor's death is part of something bigger," Leo states gloomily.

"Isn't that obvious, though? And I thought you had perceptive things to tell me..."

"I can't help it!" Leo defends. "There is not enough evidence. But I did manage to make an old officer talk. He told me about a peculiar tradition in the police. Corrupted of criminal police officers never receive any medals."

I frown deeply. Was Emily's father involved in police corruption?...Was the mafia involved?

"I see. Thank you, Leo!"

"My pleasure. I love doing business with you! I can't wait for you to ask for my services again, this little investigation of yours is getting interesting." He smirks.

As I walk home, I think about the next step of my investigation. The lead of Bryar and Taylor is getting cold. I can only focus on the owner of this car's license plate... I decide to follow the plan I talked about with Ekaterina. I am going to sneak into the Weller pharmaceutical factory and look for the car.

I learnt from Ekaterina that the workers don't wear a uniform, but I should still put on comfortable clothes for this job. I put on some big leather boots, brown plaid pants, a shirt topped with a warm scarf, shoulder straps and an ivy cap. I hope that everything will be okay...

It's already midnight. The streets around the factory are particularly quiet. There is no one to watch the backdoor but the portal is shut by heavy, metallic doors. It looks like I'm going to have to climb...

Ow! I rub my achy butt and get the map I drew out of my pocket. The night is on my side, I am a shadow among shadows and the threatening, dark shapes of the facilities around me. There is some lightning though, either piercing from large windows or falling from very high, metallic lamppost that make me feel dizzy and a bit threatened. The atmosphere is eerie, the dusty yard is a bit too calm, like an empty stage.

Alright, Gerard, focus. First, the parking lot.

I jog to the parking lot. The crunching that faintly rise with every step I take makes me anxious. The silence is concerning. I feel like danger is awaiting at any corner.

There are very few cars in the parking lot. It should be easy.

I examine the license plates and... Is it the one I'm looking for? The numbers match! I'm lucky!

I bring my face close to the window of the car so as to look inside, determined to know more about its owner. Nothing... What should I do? Wait until tomorrow and come back?

Suddenly, the muffled roar of a car engine near me makes me crouch behind the car. Is someone there?!

A minivan comes closer and stops near me. Several men exit the factory and head for the van. It appears they are about to hold some sort of meeting. A few men get out of the van and are welcome by those of the factory.

"Right on time, Mr. Wentz." A quite strong, dark-haired man in a suit speaks up. I can hear him distinctly, but I can't see his face properly, or anything else for that matter.

"Punctuality is a virtue, Mr. D'Avanzo," answers a familiar voice. Mr. Wentz? Pete Wentz? Mr. Iero's subordinate? What is he doing here?

Mr. Wentz looks severe and stone cold, which is far from the memory I keep of our encounters. He was so warm and friendly...

Even though I felt something mysterious about Mr. Iero, I always thought that he was just an eccentric businessman. But to be sending his... employees or whoever they truly are, on clandestine meetings... Something is wrong. No doubt.

"Where did you put it?" Mr. Wentz asks. The man facing him waves his hand and his men take off the sheet covering the delivery next to him.

"It's all there. Sixty barrels, and that's good quality there. As discussed with Mr. Iero."

"I don't have time to review all that. Can I trust you?"

"Let's not mention my past. There is quite some time since I stopped working for Angie," the man, Mr. D'Avanzo, asserts.

"It seems that you are leading quite the life, Mr. D'Avanzo." I hear a smile in Mr. Wentz's voice.

"Please, I have only started a new chapter of my life."

"That is beautifully said," Mr. Wentz appreciates, readjusting his fedora. I shiver. I should have worn something warmer; autumn nights can get very cold. The fact that I am on edge doesn't help my continuous trembling.

Wentz gives his order and his men start moving the barrels. What can those possibly contain...? Alcohol? With the Prohibition, that would be no surprise. They seem heavy to carry.

"The money is in the case. Don't lose it now." Wentz hands a black suitcase to D'Avanzo and watches the van being emptied. It seems that he will only leave as soon as the job is entirely done and charged.

D'Avanzo takes the suitcase and hesitates, then whispers something to one of his subordinates. At this instant, D'Avanzo and his men look in my direction! Oh no! Did they spot me?

Unfortunately, things go exactly as I anticipated them. D'Avanzo's men walk in my direction, they are too close... I have nowhere to go. I curl up in a ball, hoping that I am not found. My heart is beating so hard that I sense it make my chest vibrate. I plaster myself on the car, drenched in my own sweat and my clothes are starting to stick to my skin.

As the footsteps come closer, my heart beats faster and faster, until I fear it might explode...

"Boss, there is someone there!"

Oh no... They found me!

The man points a gun at me and leads me to D'Avanzo. His features are rough, he is elegantly dressed but the little scar on his face can't be concealed with cotton and silk. The latter stares at me coldly as though he was looking at a dead body. I had nothing to do here. Will he let me go?

I think about those characters from books and movies who are made quiet because they saw too much. I shiver all over and start feeling nauseous.

"Are you a worker? What are you still doing here?" D'Avanzo asks me, annoyed and worried like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar. He fiddles with the large watch on his wrist.

"I... I didn't want to, but I fell asleep at the factory. I just woke up..." I make up an excuse. My limbs tense up as I wait for a reaction.

"The factory? We asked somebody to check that it was empty once the workers were off duty."

"What's wrong, D'Avanzo?" Wentz heard the agitation, but he can't see my face since I am turning my back to him... What should I do? If I call him out, will he help me? But...I don't know him that well, and it might only complicate things.

I think about it and figure I'd better not talk to Mr. Wentz.

"Nothing, just a worker who forgot to go home," D'Avanzo tell the other one.

"Mmh, now I'm curious. How will the great Dante D'Avanzo manage him?" Wentz chuckles behind me.

"That's none of your business," D'Avanzo snaps. "Take your stuff and leave."

"Sure. See you around."

I sigh as I sense Wentz behind me walk away. One of D'Avanzo's men asks his boss what they should do with me, and his gaze softens a little. But I am sure he is up to no good.

He hums. "I don't know how much you saw, but we have to take some precautions... Deal with him, guys. Make it clean."

"A-Are you going to kill me?" I croak out. The man who caught me earlier grabs my arm and starts dragging me away. "No! You can't do that! It's illegal! Let go of me!"

D'Avanzo stays stone cold. "Save your breath. The law will not protect a simple worker as are you."

What should I do?! I must do something, or that's the end of me... I have a light bulb, but if this idea fails, things could turn disastrous for me. But I have no time to hesitate or think it through.

"I'm not a worker! I'm a journalist!" I exclaim. "If you kill me, all New York City will know what you did!"

D'Avanzo scoffs. "What a pitiful lie. Oh, what desperate people would say..."

"My name is Gerard Way, from the Gotham News! It's the truth! I-I even have an appointment with prosecutor Ray Toro! He won't stay passive if I am found dead, he will investigate!" I barely manage not to stutter and trip on my words.

D'Avanzo's man shoves me down on my knees and presses his gun to my temple, but Mr. D'Avanzo now seems quite concerned with everything I said. He walks to me and looks down at me.

"So, tell me, if you are a journalist, what are you doing here?"

"Believe me, the reason I am here has nothing to do with what you were doing!"

He narrows his eyes. "And why should I believe you?"

"You can kill me if you want, but that will be the end of you," I threaten. "Why not make a deal? Let me go, and I will not tell anyone about what I saw tonight."

"I will think about it. But I must know why you are here."

Should I tell him the truth and evoke Taylor? Or make up a lie? I remember what the manager of the Corner café said about the workers having to go through 12 hours shifts.

"I came here because... Well, I was taught this factory is exploiting its workers! I came here to find evidence."

"Exploiting workers?" D'Avanzo frowns.

"It's not like I can keep investigating now. But all I want is to stay alive. As long as you let me go, I will keep my word."

D'Avanzo starts thinking deeply after he heard my answer. He stays quiet for an eternity. "...Very well, Mr. journalist. Deal."

All the weight of the world is taken off my shoulders all at once, I almost collapse. He...accepted?

"Mr. Way, do you need my help to get on your feet?" he asks me as I tediously stand up from my kneeling position.

"I'm alright. Can I go now?"

D'Avanzo gives me a gentle, dishonest smile, the kind of fake smile you give to the people whose good side you want to get on.

"I will personally drive you home. We wouldn't want you to get lost, would we?" He shows me the way and gets in a car... The car with the license plate I was examining earlier! That's his car?

"What's the matter, Mr. Way?" D'Avanzo smiles at me, waiting.

"I-I'm fine. Sorry." I get in the car.

I feel like I'm walking on thin ice here. If D'Avanzo is the owner of this car, then this means that he is the one who claimed Emily's belongings, right?

I think about his secret deal with Pete Wentz and how he ordered his men to kill me in cold blood... What other secrets is he hiding?

So many questions are spinning in my mind like a hurricane, but I can't let any sign of suspicion show on my face.

"Mr. Way, do you happen to be interested in my car?"

My heart leaps in my chest but I stay calm. "Well, it's a beautiful car."

D'Avanzo smiles slightly. "Thank you for the compliment."

He lets me get out along one of the main avenues. "Remember what you promised, Mr. Way. Or else..."

"I promise." I look at him in the eye through his window. Will he trust me? I think about the cold glance he threw at me before he left... At least he didn't figure out that I know he is the owner of the car I was looking for.

The reasons to Emily's death are so much more complicated than I thought. I still haven't discovered the truth, and I almost got killed tonight... I suppose that I will have to take very careful steps on that mined field.

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