Chương 110: A Timetable

At 7: 30 p. m., at the headquarters of the New York Herald.

Arthur sat behind his desk, answering Isabella's call.

Isabella described in detail who was threatened, who yielded, and who cursed on the phone.

Arthur listened without speaking immediately.

He held the phone between his ear and shoulder, freeing his hands to review the schedule he had compiled that afternoon on the table.

Several time points are recorded above.

At 2: 30 p. m., tax officials arrived at Macy's headquarters office.

At 3 p. m., the fire department conducted a surprise inspection of Macy's Fifth Avenue flagship store.

At 3: 20 p. m., the Regional Planning Commission called the Vanderbilt family law firm.

At 3: 45 p. m., Chase Bank's Brooklyn branch received a notice of tax audit.

Between 4 and 5 p. m., several builders received messages from intermediaries of the Tammany Association.

After 5 p. m., the aforementioned parties began to confirm their attendance at the Plaza Hotel charity ball that evening.

Arthur folded the schedule and put it in the inside pocket of his trench coat.

He spoke into the microphone: "Isabella, how many of the things on this schedule can you confirm?"

Isabella said, "The information from Macy's and Chase Bank came from our own informants, so it can be confirmed. As for the Vanderbilt family, their lawyer contacted me proactively, saying he was willing to testify."

"Okay. I'll set off now," Arthur said.

Isabella paused on the other end of the phone and asked, "Where are you going?"

Arthur said, "Plaza Hotel. I'll stand at the entrance for a bit."

He wrapped an old scarf around his neck and nodded to Patrick, who was sitting next to him.

Patrick got up from the sofa, patted the stack of printed materials in his arms, and then walked out.

Eight o'clock in the evening, at the entrance of the Plaza Hotel.

Fifth Avenue was swept clean by the cold wind, and the streetlights illuminated the ground.

Security at the hotel entrance was twice as high as usual.

Two security guards in black uniforms stood on either side of the gate. They would let people in formal attire pass by, but would stop people in civilian clothes to check their invitations.

A line of black cars pulled up at the entrance, the doors opened, and people in formal attire stepped out one after another.

Patrick's men had already spread out and stood by the roadside, waiting for those people to approach, shoving the illustrations into their hands, and then quickly retreating without saying a word or lingering.

Arthur stood across the street, leaning against a lamppost, his hands in his trench coat pockets.

He just stood there, looking at the door.

A photographer recognized him, whispered something to his colleague next to him, and the two of them turned around together.

Then came more reporters.

Nearly twenty reporters from different newspapers and news agencies were waiting outside the Plaza Hotel to photograph the celebrities in attendance.

They had been staring at that door for almost an hour, and all they could capture were stiff faces and figures walking quickly inside with their backs to the camera.

The fact that Arthur Kennedy was standing under the streetlight across the street was more noteworthy than anything else they had just filmed.

A young female reporter crossed the street first, walked up to Arthur, and handed him the microphone.

"Mr. Kennedy, are you here tonight to attend a ball?"

Arthur looked away from the door, glanced at the microphone, and said, "I'd like to go in, but I don't have an invitation."

As he spoke, he took a few steps toward the gate.

The security guard at the entrance immediately came up and stopped him.

"Sir, tonight's event is private; an invitation is required."

Arthur stopped, glanced at the security guard, and then turned to look at the reporter who had followed him.

By this time, six or seven photographers had already raised their cameras.

Arthur nodded to the security guard and said, "Understood, thank you."

He stepped back, turned to the female reporter, and said, "I don't have an invitation, so I can't get in. That's normal.""

He paused for a moment, then continued, "However, among those who entered that door tonight, there are a few interesting coincidences in timing that I'd like to share."

Mr. Strauss of Macy's received visitors from the tax authorities at 2: 30 p. m. today.

A fire department inspection team arrived at his flagship store at the same time.

He speaks slowly, and each sentence is spoken very clearly.

"The Vanderbilt family heir's law firm received a call at 3: 20 p. m. today from the Regional Planning Commission, informing him that the approval documents for a real estate project on Long Island need to be reviewed again, with the timeframe uncertain."

He took his hand out of his pocket, retrieved the folded timetable from his inner pocket, and handed it to the female reporter.

"There are a few more entries here. The time, the organization, and the parties involved are all clearly written. I ask you and your colleagues to take this schedule and go in to ask the guests who are attending tonight how they decided to come here."

The female reporter took the schedule, glanced at it, then looked up and asked, "Mr. Kennedy, are you accusing the mayor of using his executive power to force celebrities to attend the ball?"

Arthur shook his head: "I'm not accusing anyone. I'm simply stating a few facts that happened this afternoon, and in chronological order. Whether these events are related is for the readers to decide."

Another reporter chimed in, "So what are you here for tonight?"

Arthur put his hands back in his pockets and glanced at the door.

Just then, a car stopped, and a man in a tuxedo stepped out, head down, and quickly walked through the gate, his back revealing an indescribable sense of panic.

Arthur watched the figure disappear behind the door, then replied to the reporter, "I'm here to see how many people were sent through that door tonight."

After he finished speaking, he nodded to the female reporter, turned around, crossed the road, and walked in the other direction of the street.

Behind him, the spotlight flashed several times, illuminating his silhouette clearly.

Patrick caught up with him and walked beside him, whispering, "Now that schedule has been given out, Walker's efforts tonight will be much less effective, and he'll definitely be overshadowed by our news tomorrow."

Arthur said, "Not only that."

"A photograph can tell people how many people are at the Plaza Hotel tonight. But the timetable can tell people how those people got there. Putting these two things together, Walker himself becomes the footnote to that parable."

He stopped, hailed a taxi on the street, opened the door, got in, and gave the driver the address of Elizabeth Villa.

The car door closed, and the taxi drove into the night.