Ch.128Request Log #013 – Dealers’ Day (1)

Even the deepest sleep couldn’t make the detective run late. He woke up shortly after six in the morning and immediately checked himself over.

If the goblins were going to make one last attempt, it would be now. They would target this moment when the heads of both organizations were meeting. It was better to verify everything before the group departed.

A well-packaged suit had been placed in front of his door, apparently tailored overnight. Impressive craftsmanship. The detective felt the sensation not of putting on a tailored suit, but of something returning to its rightful place as he changed clothes.

It was a proper three-piece suit, but the vest had been modified to attach a holster. After removing the holster from his suspenders and connecting it to the vest, then putting on the jacket, his outfit was nearly complete.

Once he put on his usual leather gloves, the detective finally looked somewhat like one of the Morrígan’s operatives. It was his first time trying to look the part of an operative. The detective usually chose attire that allowed him to blend into crowds.

Though the job wasn’t completely finished yet, making a drink unnecessary, the detective headed to Bar Reno. He needed to hear about and verify the meeting place for the Godmother and the Morrígan that he hadn’t learned about yesterday.

Despite the early hour, the bar was somewhat busy with organization members. Gancan was there too, holding a shotgun in one hand—a weapon that would require two hands for even a full-grown human to fire—while his other hand held his head.

The detective was still an operative directly employed by the Morrígan. There was no need to treat Gancan as a branch leader, so he asked without much hesitation.

“Where’s our destination today, Gancan? I want to check it out before we depart.”

At those words, Gancan gripped his neck and turned the head in his hand toward the detective. The sight of a severed neck opening its mouth was something one could never get used to.

“You seem to think you’re the only person in this organization. You’re just a guest of honor today. The destination is a restaurant on Fifth Avenue, and I’ve already sent Fenids to watch the surroundings, so there’s no need to worry. Only branch leaders and some security personnel remain at Reno. Seeing that the Morrígan is well, there shouldn’t be any traitors.”

The Irish mafiosi could predict the amount of authority gathering around her by observing the Morrígan’s condition. It would be easy to identify traitors.

Since the detective himself had presented sufficiently attractive conditions to the Nolls, he could rest assured about them. The streets would be crawling with Nolls and half-breeds, so the goblins wouldn’t dare make a move.

Nevertheless, he didn’t abandon all suspicion. If he had, that would have been a violation of his contract with the Morrígan. She had chosen someone to remain suspicious even when everyone else was certain.

Either way, there wasn’t much for the detective to do right now. He removed his gloves and put them in his inside pocket. Sitting across from Gancan’s table, he asked:

“From what I saw yesterday, you seem to be the Morrígan’s executioner. I suppose you’ll be getting another job this time, won’t you?”

Gancan blinked briefly. It was a gesture in place of nodding, which he couldn’t do. The detective vaguely understood the intention behind the motion.

“I’ll be handling the warning. As always. I’ll drive while holding my head, find them, and sprinkle blood on them. You know what happens to those who get sprinkled with Gancan’s blood.”

The detective nodded briefly. They would die. It might be something similar to a ritual curse, but… as far as the detective knew, this fairy wasn’t the type to randomly cast spells on people.

If he had been that type, the detective wouldn’t have been so comfortable around him. Since he had no intention of bothering someone who could feel compassion for others’ lives, their conversation, which had nearly fractured, could be mended.

After that conversation, they ate a rather hearty Irish breakfast. Though mixed with American style, it was quite different from what the detective usually ate, so they could agree to call it Irish.

Time passed, and it was time to depart for Fifth Avenue. The Morrígan emerged from her office and descended the stairs, dressed in an all-black dress like one worn to a funeral, with a wide-brimmed hat adorned with a veil.

Escorting her was also Gancan’s job. With the shotgun tucked at his waist, he approached the stairs, took the Morrígan’s hand, and headed outside. The fairies followed without saying a word.

The detective rode in the same car as the Morrígan. It was Gancan’s car, with the front seats separated by a curtain. The procession of cars departed, crossing through New York streets where half-breeds stood guard at various points.

If the Morrígan had wanted conflict, these streets wouldn’t have been so peaceful. The same would have been true even if the detective himself had been a powerless human.

They arrived safely at Fifth Avenue. Either the goblins had realized they had nothing to gain and much to lose by attacking the two organizations at this point, or Arnold had handled things so cleanly that they didn’t even know what had happened. Either way, they were safe, and that was what mattered.

Greeting the Morrígan as she stepped out of the car procession were the Noll notary and Sylvia D’Aquila. She seemed to have been invited as a party involved in this matter.

Sylvia D’Aquila, remarkably slender for a female Noll, placed her hand on her chest and bowed her head briefly. Judging by Noll etiquette, the Morrígan was clearly her superior.

“I am Sylvia D’Aquila, who managed the establishment attacked by the goblins, Madam Morrígan. The Godmother is waiting inside. Armed Nolls are only outside the restaurant, so you may enter with peace of mind. And the person accompanying you…”

Sylvia D’Aquila, who had been showing impeccable manners, opened her eyes and looked at the detective. She didn’t show any sign of finding him irritating or troublesome. She simply continued asking politely:

“Is he an operative employed by Madam Morrígan? Or is he a mediator for this matter?”

“He’s a mediator for this matter. An intermediary connecting the Godmother and me, and also a notary. You know better what level of courtesy is appropriate, don’t you, Sylvia?”

Sylvia D’Aquila bowed her head to the detective as well. Honor and courtesy were absolute. Everyone knew that mafiosi couldn’t let go of these principles.

“Yes, of course. Only branch leaders will be attending, but since you’re an intermediary, you may join the conversation. The branch leaders who came with you…”

Selkie, the Leprechaun, Gancan, and Arnold the Gambler, who had arrived at some point, followed behind the Morrígan. Bavan would still be in the hospital. Sylvia politely acknowledged them.

“Yes, confirmed. Please come in.”

Sylvia, who had come out to greet the guests, led them all into the restaurant. It seemed they weren’t planning to receive other customers, as all the tables on the first floor had been cleared away, leaving only one long table.

The Godmother, the Nolls, and a goblin with a different impression from Arnold were already seated at the table. The Morrígan and the fairies naturally headed to the opposite side. The detective was given a single seat at the side of the table.

A chair was pulled out, but the detective didn’t sit down. When dealing with those who adhered to old-fashioned courtesy, greetings were important. The Godmother, who should have been welcoming her guests, stood up and extended her hand to the Morrígan first, as if requesting a handshake.

They acted not like those hiding in the darkness of night, but like ordinary businesspeople meeting in the bright sunshine of noon. The Morrígan also took her hand and shook it lightly.

“It’s been a while since we’ve met in person, Madam Morrígan. Now that the plans of those who tried to cause unpleasant and rude discord between us have been exposed… let’s share trust and comfort. We are rational people, aren’t we? If it’s profitable, we can gladly put our competitive relationship and minor grudges in a bottle and set it adrift in the sea. Don’t you agree?”

The Morrígan smiled. Though only her lips were visible beneath the veil, the detective could once again feel that familiar chill.

“It would be an honor for me to deal with someone who understands honor and courtesy, Godmother Masseria. And yes, when there is a common enemy, it’s only natural to join forces.”

The Morrígan’s tone was her usual one, but without mockery. She didn’t exchange such superficial and pretentious greetings with the detective, the mediator, but this time, the detective didn’t need to bow his head.

Only then could they sit down. Giuseppina was also among the Godmother’s branch leaders. Though her seat was at the edge due to her smaller faction, she was considerably larger than the other female Nolls of average size, which gave her some intimidating presence.

However, today she wasn’t the only Noll of such size. The detective could see another Noll, as large as Giuseppina, sitting next to the Godmother.

She gave off a similar vibe to Giuseppina but even more intensely. She seemed more beast-like than Giuseppina, to the point where the Godmother only used hand gestures when speaking to her, as if she couldn’t understand English.

When the Godmother said something to that Noll in sign language, Sylvia, who was sitting next to the Godmother, interpreted. It was an action indicating that they had no intention of having secret conversations.

“The Godmother has confirmed to our operative that you are our Irish mafia trading partners. She may not follow the conversation well as her English is still rudimentary, so the Godmother will occasionally interpret for her in sign language. If this is uncomfortable, we can use written notes that we can verify together. Which would you prefer?”

They were both extremely cautious with their words and actions, trying not to provoke each other. The Morrígan didn’t express any dissatisfaction and gave her permission.

“Let her do as she finds comfortable. I don’t mind.”

The Godmother briefly expressed her gratitude and then began speaking. She continued smoothly as if punishing the goblins was a very simple matter.

“At a gathering to confirm peace between us, there’s no need to talk at length about business, is there, Madam Morrígan? Let’s keep it simple. We’ll send our operative to the goblin mafia boss. You can send someone as an advisor, Madam Morrígan… and let that detective handle the goblin who planned this. How does that sound?”

The Godmother naturally took the largest piece of meat. What the Godmother wanted was to establish authority through this matter, and the Morrígan didn’t much care who killed whom. Their interests aligned.

Ah, so I end up with the dirty work after all. The Morrígan nodded as if she didn’t even need to think about it. Finally, attention turned to the detective, but he had been expecting this and nodded as well.

The Noll Godmother satisfactorily clapped her furry hands together. Because she was maintaining courtesy, she didn’t make the hyena-like cackling sound.

“Then, it’s settled. There’s no reason to spend hours on something that can be resolved so simply… And since we’re at a place where we can serve the Italian food our Nolls are proud of, I’d like you to stay for a meal, Madam Morrígan. Let’s share a glass of quite decent wine imported from France.”

They conversed exactly like company employees celebrating the conclusion of a contract or friends commemorating the birth of a child. If one didn’t know they were gangsters, it might have looked like a beautiful scene.

“Of course I accept, but let me clarify one last thing, Godmother Masseria. The gambler Arnold who came to my side has already done his part, hasn’t he? He persuaded the goblins to break away. The goblins who joined you should also do something for the operatives… If they’re gunmen you’ve taken in, have they done security work before?”

Godmother Masseria briefly whispered to the goblin seated alongside her branch leaders, telling him to answer. The detective was beginning to tire of all this courtesy and permission.

The goblin, having received permission to answer from the Godmother, straightened his back instead of nodding and replied. Having worked with Italian Nolls for a long time, he knew well how to cater to their preferences.

“Yes, Madam Morrígan. All three individuals designated for disposal at this meeting have been guarded by us before, so we know their schedules. We have plenty of information. If the operatives you two will use, and the problem solver who came as a mediator need information, we’ll help in any way we can. That will prove our loyalty.”

At least I won’t need to follow them for a week each. When security guards betrayed, such complications arose through very simple steps. With those words, the discussion about the job ended.

Food began to arrive, starting with appetizers. Just like when he had visited with the journalist before, food was provided in appropriate portions for the fairies as well, but Gancan, whose neck was severed, was only handed a single high-quality cigar with an elegant seal.

His head, placed on the table, took the cigar in its mouth, and soon a female Noll waiter approached and slowly singed the end of the cigar with a pine match to light it. It would be ridiculous to try eating anything in that condition.

After appetizers to stimulate the appetite, pasta followed, and then naturally came fish and meat dishes. Wine was prepared to match the timing. Just one bottle would cost about as much as the fee the detective would receive from the Morrígan after completing this job, but the Nolls were the type who would gladly uncork it to entertain guests.

Though the detective never drank alcohol while working, it would be impolite to refuse such wine in this setting. He pleasantly watched as his glass was filled about halfway.

The Godmother raised her glass first. She didn’t make a long speech. She summarized in just one sentence what all the mafiosi present at this gathering wanted.

“To the prosperity that will come from the harmony between our two organizations.”

The detective barely held back his laughter. This was black comedy at its finest, the kind the British supposedly loved. Anyone watching might mistake them for people gathered for a very noble and righteous purpose.

At some point, gangsters struggling to find their place in back alleys had transformed into harmony and prosperity. What they had resolved at this gathering was merely assassination under the name of disposal.

But the detective didn’t laugh. It wasn’t because of courtesy. It was because he himself was a conspirator. He was one of those who would share in the wealth this job would create, under the names of advance payment and completion fee.

The detective knew very well that he had no right to mock, rather than no reason to mock.

He wasn’t ashamed of this fact. Business is business. The peace this job would bring to the streets was the peace of the streets. Harmony was harmony, prosperity was prosperity, and nothing was false. So there was no reason to mock after all.