Ch.277The Eighth Entanglement – Law, Order, and Capriccio (6)

For Paulina, Rose’s request for help was quite ambiguous. Personally, she had been waiting for such words, yet she also hoped the day would never come when Rose would say them.

Still, at least now it wasn’t dependence. It was closer to employment than dependence. Somehow, it felt satisfying to know that Rose now had options beyond just herself.

It seemed she truly thought of Rose as a sister rather than an employer. Unable to suppress her rising smile, Paulina answered.

“A murder case? You want me to provide a lawyer? Rose might waive the retainer fee, but… I’d need to know what this is about before I can give you a definite answer.”

For a lawyer handling murder cases, the retainer fee itself wasn’t particularly important. As long as they could collect a fee, they would typically spend more than the retainer anyway.

If the client could afford to pay that much, they would have contacted the firm directly rather than through Rose. Besides, for a murder case… the first thing Paulina thought of was a false accusation.

Rose was the type who couldn’t ignore someone wrongfully accused. And this time, she had called looking for a lawyer rather than a bodyguard. She had asked if Paulina had any ongoing cases.

If it truly was a false accusation, the matter could be resolved easily. While a lawyer would need to conduct their own investigation if the truth was obscure, with a false accusation, they only needed to persuade the prosecutor’s pride.

“Ah, well… I was covering a factory. The owner wanted me to write an article about how they’d resolved labor disputes—’Our wonderful factory with great labor relations!’ But actually, things weren’t… that good. The owner had just co-opted the union leader. And now, a union member who disliked that leader has been arrested for murder… The victims were the union leader and a security guard.”

Is that all Rose knows? The situation didn’t look particularly good. It was currently before 8 AM. Though she wasn’t sure when the incident occurred, it certainly wasn’t last night.

Rose knew how late Paulina stayed up. If it had happened last night, she would have called in the early morning. So it must have happened at dawn. This wasn’t something that could be resolved by finding just one witness.

Then… reasonable doubt was important. She needed to ask whether that worker had any reason to kill the union leader and the security guard, but the motive seemed all too clear.

It was common sense that workers would resent a union leader who sided with management instead of representing them. Overturning common sense was harder than overturning a shocking truth.

Were there any favorable points? The only advantage was that it hadn’t even taken half a day to retain a lawyer. If it happened at dawn, the suspect would have just finished being questioned.

She decided to eliminate the possibility that a confession had been made. Once someone started talking about confessing, it became a battle that couldn’t be won with a lawyer.

Paulina made a sensible judgment. She believed that what Rose wanted from her was not to save a criminal but to defend a suspect. Rose had matured at least that much.

While she would need to investigate the details carefully, the situation didn’t seem too bad. Though she didn’t know much, she knew enough to help Rose.

“This probably happened at dawn, right, Rose? If that’s the case… I can at least help you. Where should I go?”

Paulina adjusted her suit. She would just need to notify her office that she was handling a personal matter. That would be sufficient.

While her influence had diminished somewhat from working too long for the Clichy family, Paulina was still a lawyer with a solid track record for her age. Let’s hope Rose had caught another big fish this time.

“Oh, yes! It must have been recent. I think they said it hadn’t been long since the suspect was taken to the police station. I just got the call and phoned you right away… probably about an hour ago? The location is obviously the police station on Fifth Avenue! Is there anything else you need, Paulina?”

She needed to gather information as quickly as possible and make the first move. If Rose had received a phone call, it was obvious who had called. That man must have been at the scene.

“Could you ask that man to come there too, Rose? He must have seen the crime scene firsthand, so he could serve as a witness… Anyway, it would be useful. But, if it’s the police station…”

If she had just received the call and they had only just gone to the police station… something seemed off. The type of person who would visit the police station at that time would more likely be a journalist tipped off by an informant rather than a lawyer.

Their thoughts briefly connected, just as their shoulders had touched all night on the train to Pennsylvania. Rose didn’t lie to Paulina.

“Oh, yes. I’m going there to investigate. If I just show up alone, I won’t be able to meet a suspect who’s already been arrested. I want to use you. When they see this journalist with a head full of flowers bringing a lawyer, the fallen angels will clear the way. Then… I can verify. I can’t write lies in the newspaper.”

People living in this vast city typically suffered from at least one mental issue. Rose didn’t have one before, but it seemed she had developed one now.

Having lived in a greenhouse of lies from her family and from Paulina herself, Rose now showed an obsession with truth to the extent that she would storm a police station with a lawyer just for verification.

This was different from her rookie journalist days when she naively believed that revealing the truth would make everything better. Now her attitude was that regardless of what she would report, she first needed to unearth the truth.

It wasn’t entirely irrational. In a sense, newspapers were like verdicts. Knowing what her writing could do, she was also trying to help that suspect.

Yet it was obvious whose influence made her speak as if what she possessed was an obsession with truth. Paulina sighed once and said:

“You can just say you want to help because he might be falsely accused, Rose. You don’t need to treat everyone like you treat that man. He was quite a shocking person, but…”

Only upon hearing those words did Rose feel a comfortable warmth. It was something she had faced daily in the greenhouse, something she missed but shouldn’t miss—the only thing she was allowed to long for.

She spoke with a voice tinged with laughter. This was more familiar to Paulina. Rose wasn’t someone who could set aside warmth. It was her driving force.

“R-really? I thought speaking this way was usually more convincing! Anyway, I’ll try to call Michael too, so I’ll see you in front of the police station!”

Paulina rose from her desk, where only a battle with paperwork had been taking place. Though the possibility of physical defense was low since the suspect was already in police custody, she neatly adjusted her suit.

The suit, lined with mythril chain mail, swayed heavily yet fluidly, forgetting its wrinkles and assuming a smooth appearance. She lightly stepped on the edge of a blue alloy shield she had placed on the floor while answering the phone.

She connected the shield—which had been propped up with its edge under her foot—to the leather strap prepared over her gray suit for carrying it. After turning it once, she pulled the strap tight and tied it with a simple knot. She picked up her briefcase.

It was time to work. She opened the front door, which was too wide for Rose but fitted for a half-ogre. She got into her 20-model ogre sedan, which had always provided reliable speed when chasing the sword thief.

Paulina lived in a residential area downtown. It was a place where one could build a detached house while still enjoying a somewhat rural landscape. The house was large compared to her career.

The shadow of the Clichy president wasn’t entirely absent. The money he had given her in exchange for protecting his seventh daughter from threats and truth was still not fully spent.

At first, she was troubled by the fact that it was money received from the Forest’s Firstborn, but later she was troubled that it was money received by deceiving Rose. It might also serve to lighten her conscience. The police station wasn’t far.

There was already a car in the visitor parking lot of the police station. Paulina knew the owner. After getting out of her car, she approached the human-sized vehicle. There was a familiar face. No smell of gunpowder.

The detective sitting inside smoking a cigarette noticed her approach, opened the car door, and got out. With the cigarette in his mouth, he briefly nodded in greeting, then took a deep drag before spitting it out.

“Just when I thought I’d gotten out of this.”

Paulina felt both a subtle sense of kinship and alienation toward this detective who, like her, kept secrets yet remained so nonchalant. It was the same this time.

“When Rose decided to bring in a lawyer, you should have known who she would call. Besides, would I leave a witness and potential testimony untouched? I’ll squeeze out everything I need.”

“First time I’ve been disgusted hearing that from a woman. Want one?”

The detective sneered. He offered his cigarette pack as if asking if she wanted to smoke, but Paulina briefly shook her head. She used to smoke quite a bit, but when you guard an elf, you end up quitting.

“No, thank you. Whether it’s a habit from when I was guarding Rose, or whether once you quit smoking you can’t start again… the smell is quite repulsive.”

Paulina looked the detective up and down. He looked as usual. Over a shirt that barely maintained neatness, he wore a thick trench coat. There was nothing to be gleaned from his attire.

Yet there was a slight smell of blood. The detective noticed her gaze and briefly shook his head. They had long been able to understand each other without words.

“Don’t think I’d have evidence left on me, Counselor. I had quite a struggle cleaning off the blood that got on me while subduing that guy.”

It was as expected. Just as the two were having their reunion—which, thinking about it, wasn’t that long overdue—Rose arrived.

Rose, getting out of a taxi, seemed to have regained her vigor. She waved to Paulina, whom she hadn’t seen for quite some time—very long by Rose’s standards.

“Paulina! It feels like it’s been so long… Oh, Michael, you’re already here? Then let’s go in right away!”

Rose patted her own cheeks with both hands, reviewing what she needed to do. She would properly verify what had happened, and if he was arrested for something he didn’t do, she would help him.

Next was preparing to enter. Wondering how her past self could smile like that, and feeling somewhat perplexed, she put on her brightest smile.

Seeing the detective’s disgusted expression, it seemed to be working. The three of them walked into the police station together, like the end of a summer marking the end of childhood.

A journalist from the New York City Journal, whom the detective had called, had already arrived. He was telling the desk officer that he had received a tip. He was causing a commotion unusual for the morning.

It was just about using him. There was no better way to show that journalists who had caught the scent were gathering than to use that reporter.

The detective approached him first. The angel, who was helplessly repeating that he couldn’t allow a meeting with the suspect in the holding cell, turned around and immediately shouted.

“You said there’d be something juicy if I just came to check, but this angel doesn’t know anything… What is this? Did you call just to mess with me? Huh?”

“I just didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to actually come to the police station for real reporting. Come here. Can you call Inspector Semangelof? Semangelof, who’s handling the Smith Chemical Factory case.”

Only then did the angel, who had received a request he could handle, pick up the internal phone. While he was calling Inspector Semangelof, the detective sneered once more.

“You’re an expert at making things up in your room, so why did you come out today? Even though you came all this way, there’s nothing for you to take back.”

“Is getting something from the police and writing about it the same as just scribbling whatever? This is clearly a case where two or three people died, so I need to write it properly. Hey, behind you…”

He pointed at Rose, who had brought a half-ogre in a gray suit who looked unmistakably like a lawyer. The detective shook his head as if to say not to worry.

“Another journalist contact. What, did you think I’d let you have an exclusive? I’d only do that kind of favor if there was something in it for me. That’s not the case, is it? Well, she’s a woman who brought a lawyer saying what if the guy was falsely accused, so don’t worry too much about her.”

The New York City Journal reporter made a sound as if he couldn’t believe it. Looking at Rose, he clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Why would you make connections with a journalist like that? Getting involved with a woman like that will only make your life troublesome. Do I need to tell you about my ex-wife again?”

“No, it’s tiresome. Anyway, I’ll talk to him, so wait here.”

The detective saw Inspector Semangelof coming down the stairs and patted him on the shoulder. He was acting as if they were somewhat close, but they were merely calculating gains and losses in their minds.

Someone who only maintains connections with such people ends up wanting a decent but foolish guy like Yehoel. Inspector Semangelof sighed deeply when he saw the two journalists gathered in the police station lobby.

At least it wasn’t ten people, but it was obvious what kind of journalist contacts the detective had. A tip was just a tip. You shouldn’t try to get information directly.

Still, since the detective was approaching as if to explain something to him, he decided to bear with it rather than chase them away. What would have been a clash of sparks was now meshing together with the detective’s intervention.

“I thought I made it clear that I didn’t care about exclusives, so why are there journalists gathered in the police station lobby?”

“What did you expect from the journalist contacts of a common New York detective? The guy from the New York City Journal will leave once you confirm there was an incident—fitting for someone who just writes paper trash. But the woman from Golden Age Press is going to be troublesome. She even brought a lawyer.”

He offers a way to handle one of them, though he can’t handle both. The detective nodded briefly. Inspector Semangelof was also experienced in dealing with journalists looking for crumbs.

But that small elf… she clearly brought someone who looked like a lawyer. Inspector Semangelof massaged his neck as if the base of his trapezius was strained.

“Please don’t tell me that woman… brought a lawyer saying he can’t be tried without one?”

“Sadly, that’s the case. Anyway, you have enough evidence, both circumstantial and regarding the knife. If you resist here and that woman writes an article saying ‘Police Block Lawyer’s Visit!’ it’s obvious who will be troubled… If you let one journalist with a head full of flowers play the justice warrior, other newspapers can’t say anything, right?”

Inspector Semangelof made a pained sound briefly. The detective had touched a sore spot for the police. He glanced at Rose Clichy for a moment. Her fists were tightly clenched, but her face wore a proud smile.

It was the expression commonly worn by rookie journalists intoxicated by the coolness of pursuing truth. She would be easy to persuade or deceive. Perhaps she could be used as a shield.

Inspector Semangelof fell for this brief masquerade. Even the fact that the detective was on his side was a mask, but he didn’t see it. Then, it would be fair to say it was his fault.

“Damn it… When a lawyer shows up, the police can’t block them. Tell them to come in. You come along too.”