A Game Of Chess With A Vampire
Chapter 106: Is There No Way To Prove Him Guilty?

Chapter 106: Is There No Way To Prove Him Guilty?

As soon as Draven and Avelina sat down beside each other, Old Master Lenort cleared his throat.

"It seems we are already very close with this case. According to Mr. Bennet, the culprit is already known."

Everyone diverted their attention to Mr. Bennet. Valentine, who sat beside Lestat, propped up his chin with his balled fist while gazing at Mr. Bennet with a smirk on his lips.

Old Master Lenort gestured with his hands. "Mr Bennet."

Mr. Bennet, with a cold look on his face, stood up from his seat. His eyes were moving from Draven to Old Master Lenort, then back to Draven.

"Aedion." He extended his hand out to Aedion, who stood beside him.

Aedion bent down and grabbed the bag they came with. He unzipped it and pulled out the bazooka, the gloves, and the photo.

Ryan and the rest stared at him. They weren’t sure of what exactly was about to happen.

"What are all these?" he asked.

Mr. Bennet grabbed the photo and showed it to all of them. "Is this man familiar to any of you?"

Ryan and the others glanced at each other. Valentine grinned and looked at Draven.

Lumian abruptly stood up from his seat. He spoke, "Father, this man is a friend of Draven. He visited him last week, and they broke the rule you gave that anyone who visits him shall be searched before they are let into the royal mansion."

Old Master Lenort immediately frowned. He averted his eyes toward Draven.

"Is this true? Do you know this man?" he questioned.

Draven calmly responded, "I do. He is my friend. Why do you ask?"

Mr. Bennet interrupted before Old Master Lenort could speak.

"We ask because he is the culprit."

"Oh." This was Draven’s reaction. He did not seem phased at all.

This being the opposite of the rejoinder Mr. Bennet expected from Draven, he loured. He vehemently narrowed his eyes and folded his arms.

"Your Highness, you do understand that this implicates you, right?"

"I know." Draven shrugged, unbothered. "However, you also understand that just because he is a friend of mine does not mean that I am involved in the bombing."

"I mean, if my brother kills, does that make me a culprit too? You need evidence to prove me guilty, Mr. Bennet. If without proof, it is useless, because, by logic, you wouldn’t deem me a culprit."

He crossed his legs. "The first reason is that I have no particular motive to bomb down my sister-in-law’s estate unless my brother here thinks otherwise. Secondly, if I were really interested in bombing an estate, it would not be her estate, because it is one of the smallest. I would go for... " He shifted his eyes toward Old Master Lenort and pointed at him. "...My father’s estate. The biggest one, actually."

Mr. Bennet flickered his eyes, grasping that his logic was right. Deep in his heart, he was more than sure that Draven was guilty, but what was the point if he could not even prove him guilty? He needs a straightforward piece of hard evidence that points directly at Draven and not through his friend. Thus, he went into deep thought.

Old Master Lenort, on the other hand, was intently gazing at Draven, who was also staring at him.

"Why are you gazing at me, Father?" Draven questioned. "I haven’t bombed your estate, have I?"

This made Old Master Lenort’s blood boil. "You son of a bitch!"

"I don’t like you calling my mother a bitch, father. Have a little bit of respect for her now, will you?" Draven’s eyes were filled with no ounce of emotion. It was as though he felt nothing as he spoke. This left his eyes, sending an eerie feeling coursing through the body of anyone who looked him straight in the pupils.

Old Master Lenort was steaming with anger. His hands were balled into tight fists and trembling non-stop. "You—"

"Well." Draven interrupted him and stood up from his seat. "If that is all, I would like to return to my quarters now. My wife needs to eat and sleep."

He extended out his hand to Avelina, whose mouth was left agape by the whole scenario.

"Shall we leave?"

"Uh...yes, yes." Avelina furiously nodded and grabbed his hand.

Draven yanked her up from the chair and pulled her along with him to exit the room, however, Mr. Bennet stopped him.

"Before you leave, I have something to ask you, Your Highness. That is if you don’t mind," he said.

Draven stared at him for a few moments before shrugging.

"Go on."

Avelina, who was beside him, was gazing at Mr. Bennet. Her brows were crumpled.

Mr. Bennet smiled at Draven and grabbed the button that was inside the pocket of his coat. He showed it to him.

"Is this perhaps yours?" he asked.

Draven lowered his head and looked at the button. "Yes, it is mine. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you see," Mr. Bennett went ahead to clarify. "I have examined the clothing of everyone in this room, and it turns out that only yours has this particular button. It is exactly the same as the one on your coat right now."

He jutted his hand to touch the button, but Draven gripped his wrist before he could.

"What I will not appreciate from you is touching me, even if it’s just a piece of my clothing. Keep that in mind," Draven warned.

Mr. Bennet snatched his hand back. He could not ignore the sense of authority behind Draven’s tone. It was faint, but he could swear that he felt it in his soul.

"My apologies then, your highness. I will make sure to keep that in mind." He smiled. "My reason for asking is that this button seems to have fallen from the culprit’s coat, who is a friend of yours. This must mean that your relationship with him isn’t simple if you are willing to gift him royal clothing."

Draven nodded. "Yes, he is a dear friend of mine."

"Ah... I see, I see." Mr. Bennet’s smile widened.

Then he said, "I will be back, hopefully by tomorrow, with evidence that will prove you guilty. You were right when you said that without proof, everything, including these pieces of evidence, is useless when it comes to you."

"Good luck with that." Draven turned around and left the room with Avelina.

Mr. Bennet watched as the door shut and turned around to look at the rest of the family.

"Bennet," Old Master Lenort called. "Is there no way to prove him guilty?"