Wilbur chuckled, taking out his phone. "Would you believe me if I told you I'd be able to get Kamal to report to the Director of the Municipal Disciplinary Inspection Division on his own with just one phone call?"
Landhor snorted loudly. "Who the hell do you even think you are, huh? You're full of shit."
Even Shane and Pembroke found Wilbur's words a little hard to believe. Yes, Wilbur was a member of the Department of Paranormal Research and Defense, but how was that even possible?
Wilbur calmly dialed Benjamin's number, putting the call on loudspeaker.
The call connected not long after, and Benjamin's voice filled the air. "I thought you'd forgotten this old man altogether, kid."
He sounded plenty annoyed.
Wilbur chuckled. "Well, I remember you now, don't I? How have you been, Mister Grayson?"
"My health's getting better by the day, but it's real lonely here now as I've got no one to drink with." Benjamin sounded like a petulant child throwing a tantrum.
Wilbur snorted. "I'll visit you with a fine bottle of whiskey once I'm back, alright? I'm in the middle of something right now that I'd like to tell you about."
"I knew you wouldn't call me if you didn't need anything! What's the matter, buddy?"
"You have a nephew named Kamal, haven't you?"
Benjamin was silent for a beat. Shane, Pembroke, and Landhor perked up their ears, all of them holding their breaths.
All of them knew that what Benjamin was about to say would determine the fate of many people.
In the first outcome, Landhor and Clive would be fine while Shane and Pembroke would be in hot water with murder on their backs.
In the second outcome, Landhor and Clive would be punished while Shane and Pembroke would have a great accomplishment on their belt.
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