Ch.18Request Log #003 – For Gremory (5)

The police arrived before Gremory. It seemed they had stayed out of the factory at Gremory’s request until now.

An angel with a circular light flowing from the back of his head, who appeared to be of higher rank, landed in front of me and extended his hand. From his manner of speaking, he was also a fallen angel.

“Inspector Sansenoy here. The workers seem happy about reopening the factory doors, and those Hive Mind reds have gone in too… What happened here?”

If he hadn’t been a fallen angel, he would have meticulously referred to them as Idealists. Reassured that this wouldn’t be resolved according to the law, I casually explained.

“I’m a detective hired by Madam Gremory. She sent me to investigate the strike at the factory. I managed to infiltrate and meet the union leader, which went well… until she suddenly attacked me.”

The angel in front of me smiled, half-closing his eyes with flames flowing through them, as if he now understood what had happened.

“Ah, so you were attacked. That must have been serious. You know, fights are so unpredictable. I assume you didn’t fire your gun?”

I didn’t bother suppressing the smile that rose to my lips. With a faint smile like old friends from home, I continued.

“Far from firing it, I didn’t even draw it. That union leader was quite pitiful. Dying from her own knife, I mean. She accidentally stabbed herself in the thigh while swinging it around.”

The angel clapped his heavy hands once. After rubbing them together with satisfaction, he took my gun to check it. All seven bullets were still there, and there would be no smell of gunpowder.

Two angels flew down from the factory manager’s office to report. Their report was clean. The union leader’s cause of death was losing too much blood after stabbing herself in the thigh with her own knife, and I hadn’t used any of the weapons I’d brought.

“You handled this cleanly. The prosecutor won’t press charges anyway, and isn’t it better this way? Even if it went to trial, the jurors would be locals.”

This was exactly why Gremory was a great demon. People followed her because she was good and vulnerable. Sometimes even more than they followed the law. Well, better this way.

“Of course, better this way. Madam Gremory will be here soon.”

When he offered me a cigarette first, I gathered mana at my fingertips to light it. I also took out my cigarette case that I’d hidden in my bag, put one in my mouth, and lit it. We shared a gesture of goodwill.

“It’s truly fortunate that there’s at least one detective who doesn’t try to fleece Madam Gremory.”

I watched as workers and veterans’ association members came out after the hardliners were subdued and the moderates hung the American flag back in the factory, all expressing relief and righteousness.

It was better for my assignment to be investigating the strike rather than killing the union leader, and better for everyone that she died by accidentally stabbing herself during self-defense rather than being killed by me.

By the time I finished my cigarette, Madam Gremory’s car arrived at the factory. She seemed confused by the sight of workers’ happy expressions and veterans’ association members peacefully dispersing.

The inspector flew up before Gremory could see the scene, heading to where the hardline union members were being arrested. Gremory noticed me with a cigarette in my mouth and approached.

She still looked beautiful, but seemed somewhat thinner in that short time. And she appeared to have a lot to say.

“There are too many ears and eyes here to pour out words, Madam.”

She noticed another cigarette butt on the ground. It was quite a strong smoke, and she seemed to vaguely realize that only fallen angels smoked such things.

Gremory was vulnerable and good, but not stupid. Rather than going inside, she stood there and looked me straight in the eye.

“How did that person die?”

Her expression suggested she wanted to feel some guilt, so I told her. If that’s what she wanted.

“She died from bleeding after her own knife got stuck in her thigh.”

“Did she die quickly?”

“Probably faster than the workers who would have died trampled while trying to escape through the fire evacuation tunnel, or shot, when the veterans’ association gathered here would have armed themselves and stormed in a few days later. Probably.”

It was half mockery and half comfort. It’s one thing to feel guilty about a death you commissioned, but if she started thinking it wasn’t the best choice, she might act this way again next time.

She nodded without answering. Now for the most important part of the job.

“Since you’re here, let’s talk about payment. Better than receiving an invoice.”

It was better to charge less since just making connections with a great demon was a significant benefit. But I couldn’t charge too little either, as that might make her think I could be taken advantage of, so I needed to name a reasonable amount.

How much did I usually get for union busting? At least a thousand dollars, I think, but this time there was no shootout, the job ended quickly, and I should give her a discount… I decided on an appropriate amount.

“Five hundred for the basic fee plus train fare for expenses should do. I’ve given you a discount because just being acquainted with great demons is a big help for a private detective like me. Oh, my business card…”

I had no cards left in my wallet. I still had some with aliases, but none with my real name.

However, Gremory recited it for me. She must have looked me up while I was on my way here, just like a detective investigating a potential marriage partner. It was surprising that there were even records left about me.

“Michael Husband. 24 years old. Great War veteran… from the famous Argonne Invincibles. Worked as an odd-job man and driver at the Blingkerton Detective Agency before enlisting, and opened your own detective agency after returning home. Shall I recite your family history too? I may not have your insight, but I do have information.”

I didn’t expect someone to use my own strategy against me. She was trying to shake me before striking. She was shaking me now, and if I showed weakness, she would have prepared words to strike with.

“Seeing how you can recite all that in one day, it seems you just checked some documents somewhere. After reciting all that, were you planning to follow up with something like ‘This is what you do’ and then strike me down with words?”

I shook her back. Did she think I had some trauma? Madam Gremory didn’t know what happened in the Argonne Forest, so she couldn’t actually touch on anything sensitive.

“Feel free to do as you please. For me it’s work, but for you it’s a hobby. Even if you think my techniques for extracting information from clients or associates who give false information, threats, persuasion, and disguises are like some pathetic preaching, who am I to stop a rich person’s hobby? Why not send someone to properly investigate me?”

I pressed on. But I shouldn’t corner her completely. It would be better to ease up a bit, as if showing understanding.

“I understand what you’re trying to say. You don’t like how I act as if all that matters is getting the job done. We’re very different, after all.”

Gremory nodded. She wasn’t stupid, just lacked tact. Sometimes tact is more important than ability.

“But you’re the one who told me to kill her, even if you were persuaded by semi-threatening words. Did you really hate the fact that a person would actually die? Did your frustration burst out because you were persuaded and cajoled when you finally met that person face to face after holding back for so long?”

Gremory looked me straight in the eye while arranging her red hair. Until now she could have been someone who appeared hesitant and anxious, but her eyes now suggested this was her line in the sand.

Her principles were clear. She showed kindness to others and did them no harm. Could she acknowledge that she had crossed that line this time?

“Let me be honest. You’re right. Until someone actually died, I thought you were right. Even though I disliked you, I even complimented your abilities. Still, I thought you would be either more greedy or more human. I thought you would hesitate to kill or keep the union leader alive, even if just for money. But you were neither.”

Ah, more moral condemnation. I don’t intend to condemn her for condemning me. In her world, murder is simply an extraordinary event.

“So, you’re giving me a discount to establish a connection? I would pay twice the original amount to keep human hunters like you away. I’m not someone who carries a gun hidden in my bosom.”

How noble. Still, there were ways to persuade her. Verbal persuasion was my specialty, after all.

“I’m not asking you to carry one hidden. Just keep my card in a corner of your card holder and forget about it until you need to call me. Even people who don’t carry guns keep a shotgun in their closet after being robbed, hoping they’ll never have to use it.”

I showed her the scene behind me as she stared at my face. There were people watching the respected Madam Gremory and the detective who had driven out the unwanted strike from this factory on her behalf.

No matter how much I specialized in union busting or was a human hunter from her perspective, could anyone claim this scene was fake? Absolutely not.

“How can something that has happened once not happen again? If something like this happens again, it would be better to call me than to show misjudgment and vulnerability to someone else. Besides, I’m a faithful contract worker. If you make a better judgment next time you call me, you might create a more righteous outcome than this time.”

A few seconds of silence passed. After waving with a friendly smile to the people behind her, she looked at me again and showed me my business card that she had somehow acquired.

“Today will be a lifelong shame.”

“I didn’t know people still used that word these days.”

“It’s a fading word. But it remains in dictionaries. Someone will open a dictionary and look it up, and eventually it might be used again.”

This time I neither denied nor affirmed. From this point on was her personal space, and a detective had to fight against their own curiosity as much as against a businessperson’s enemies.

Anyway, even $500 was a lot of money. $500 received while maintaining a connection with a great demon was worth much more than $2,000 received with words of disgust and the intention never to meet again.

If it remained as shame in a corner of her heart, I should be glad that I could remain in the heart of such a beauty. That was enough.

After finishing our conversation, Gremory turned around to receive her due. She looked at the factory workers and citizens who had respected her personal time until now.

I remained standing by the factory wall, just watching. Madam Gremory was not afraid to walk among the workers. She entered the crowd.

“Because of my inadequacy, I’ve caused unwanted pain to both myself and all of you. Will you still believe in me? Will you still work for me? Perhaps I…”

Usually in such situations, there would only be silence, but people didn’t want to see their respected Madam Gremory bow her head. She had shown one vulnerability, but she was still herself.

“Only you would ask such a thing, Madam! You know, my neighbor Johnny has a daughter…”

“Are you going to talk about my daughter every time someone asks why Madam Gremory is respectable? My child complains so much about how everywhere she goes, people say ‘So you’re Cathy’…”

What ridiculous people. The crowd became so noisy that Gremory’s voice could no longer be heard, and as I imagined her smile buried in the crowd, I turned around and left the factory grounds.

The train station wasn’t far. The station attendant approached me with a puzzled expression, seeing me return so soon after arriving less than an hour ago.

“Why, Mr. Peter. Why are you leaving so soon? I thought you’d investigate for at least today…”

I took the cigarette out of my mouth for a moment and shook my head.

“The strike is over. Madam Gremory and the factory workers are gathered in front of the factory talking. Before you go to see them, just give me a ticket for the earliest train.”

I continued pretending to be Peter Weinberg. He handed me a train ticket and… a bag of Gremory’s teardrop-shaped chocolates. His face was full of smiles.

“I won’t charge you! And if you’ve come to Pennsylvania, you should taste Pennsylvania’s tears before you leave. In this town, it’s not the workers who cry, but the machines.”

Since it was chocolate I liked and a ticket I needed, I didn’t refuse. He immediately put up an “Attendant Absent” sign and ran off to see Madam Gremory. The station became quiet.

I tore open the chocolate wrapper and put a teardrop-shaped chocolate in my mouth. Gremory chocolate’s distinctive tangy flavor came first, followed by a pleasant sweetness.

I returned straight to New York. If I were a worker, I might have wanted to move to a place like that, but for a detective, such a city was among the worst. There was no work in cities like that.

It took another day or so, but this time I could at least pass the time sleeping. It was a comfortable sleep, and when I arrived at New York Central Station, I woke up to the sound of the attendant.

I had left New York the morning of two days ago, and returned this evening. It was past six. The Bar Two Face would probably be open by now, and if I wanted quiet, I could have a drink at home.

I didn’t want to sit pathetically at home drinking whiskey that was too expensive to use for entertaining and that I was saving. I headed to Bar Two Face. Today it was relatively quiet.

As soon as I entered, the bartender wagged her tail and waved with her sharp claws retracted. A beast’s voice sounded.

“Mickey! It’s been days, back from another job?”

“I went all the way to Pennsylvania. Just traveling there and back took two days. Give me the bartender’s recommendation for today.”

I walked right up and watched as the werewolf bartender, now much bigger than me, skillfully made a cocktail. Soon a silvery drink was pushed toward me.

It was a Silver Bullet. Usually a cocktail favored by werewolves, and naturally one the bartender liked too. I had become familiar with it drinking with her, but it was quite strong for normal humans. I picked up the glass and drank.

The coldness that seemed to hit my brain was held by the smoothness and richness of the cream. It seemed to be made with very fresh milk… The bartender’s wolf muzzle seemed to be itching to say something.

“What, is that old dairy farmer finally sending proper milk?”

The bartender’s wolf eyes sparkled. I might not find fulfillment in detective work, but that didn’t mean life had no rewards at all.