Ch.280The Eighth Entanglement – Law, Order, and Capriccio (9)

The detective dressed properly today. Though the cold wasn’t an issue for him, he wore a coat since walking around without outerwear in this weather would arouse suspicion.

Jackets, which offered few places to grab, were better for preparing for physical confrontations, while coats with ample space to conceal a gun were preferable when carrying one. The detective checked his holster strap once more.

As a member of the Argonne Invincibles and a warlock-soldier monstrosity called a Doppelsöldner, his perception of stimuli had changed drastically compared to most people, making him skilled at mimicry. He left his apartment.

Until now, it had been better to thoroughly search both the light and shadows, but now the journalist could find evidence in plain sight on her own. The detective only needed to do what he could.

After getting in his car, he quickly reattached the silencer he had removed from his gun. He had no real intention of getting into a shootout with the mafia at Cafe Caligula, but this level of bravado and determination was necessary.

Though it wasn’t snowing, New York’s sky was quite hazy with the mixture of factory emissions and white smoke from heating systems. At this rate, it would be ash rather than snow falling from the sky.

The detective decided to be satisfied with the fact that the roads weren’t slippery or muddy. He wasn’t the type to desire much. Or perhaps it was actually quite a lot.

He parked in front of Cafe Caligula and pushed through the door. Four Fenids were seated inside. Each was enjoying the cafe’s menu and Levi’s smile, but their seating arrangement was quite deliberate.

Levi waved at the detective again. One of the Fenids glanced over, confirming the detective’s entrance. When they briefly made eye contact, the Fenid quickly looked away.

“Ah, Michael! It’s been a while! You’ve been quite busy, haven’t you?”

“Why are you so happy about a detective being busy? That’s hardly a good thing. Anyway, I’m here for an appointment… Bring me my usual coffee at the corner table. I’m meeting a woman who runs a clothing company, and we have some business to discuss.”

Levi’s eyes lit up as she looked at the detective. From her perspective, as someone whose only hobby had become observing people while working at the cafe, the detective was a colorful and entertaining person.

After briefly greeting the still diligent and friendly Marian, the detective approached the Fenid with a smile still plastered on his face. It was only a surface layer.

The branch leader also stood up upon seeing the detective and extended his hand. He was making the distinctive cackling sound typical of Fenids.

“Why are you scaring our kid, huh? I told him to check who came in, but you stared him down like you were going to skewer him. And, Leone, sometimes you should try enjoying the flavor of the coffee beans. Don’t drink it like some sugary drink for kids with milk and sugar dumped in. Been well?”

Though somewhat casual in tone, it was the kind of talk friends might have. Levi might pay attention to the detective’s client stories, which symbolized the extraordinary to her, but not to conversations between friends.

He’s quite skilled at reading people. And yet, the fact that he had strategically placed four Fenids showed he was also good at making clean plans. His way with words needed no further explanation.

But he relied on common sense. The industry’s common sense, Fenid common sense, New Yorker common sense… He was a Fenid who depended on many forms of common sense. While he might create new concepts himself, he would clash with others’ foolish ideas.

The detective responded leisurely. He was here to find an informant, not dropped into a den of enemies like when dining with the Godmother.

“It’s obvious there’s no room for air in your head or body, isn’t it? By the way, you’ve brought me right under the Godmother’s nose.”

Directly across from Cafe Caligula was the Fenids’ two-story Italian restaurant. Usually, location selection wasn’t this intentional. The Fenid branch leader cackled.

“More like under her chin than her nose. We hyenas with our protruding snouts might see the tip of our noses, but you can’t know what’s under your chin unless you reach out and touch it, Leone. Shall we get to the point?”

If it was under her nose, it symbolized trust, and under her chin meant he had established a position. Whether he had taken a position to block an uppercut that could strike at any time, or was a glove placed under her chin, only she would know.

“Yes, let’s get to the point. Are you the clingy type when dating? I can’t make assumptions based on just seeing you once in passing.”

“No, not at all. You know how much I like things clean. You and I both know what happened to Isaac, whom I briefly met. Ah, but my mother… she does have a clingy side.”

Isaac had broken his promise. The Fenids had taken care of the painters, and the detective himself had handled Isaac. When he held a gun to his head and made him write a suicide note, it came out looking like something written by someone contemplating death.

Those words meant she hadn’t sent Fenids to the Smith Chemical Factory. But she deliberately added the mother story… the Godmother story. She was trying to bestow favor and provide information again.

It seems she’ll need a handler quite often in the future. Otherwise, she’s trying to keep me up her sleeve, just like she prepared these four Fenids here. The detective thought.

Instead of wondering if he was worth that much, the detective recalled her handling methods. Too clean for Fenid work. Not a single hair, not even the distinctive foul smell of Fenids remained.

There was one handler among the Fenids with such skill… a Fenid who had already taken on the job of killing and warning someone. At that time, it seemed they had wrapped steaks made from the goblin they killed.

If so, there was sufficient reason to give information to this branch leader. That woman wasn’t their friend. She was only the Godmother’s friend. The detective subtly redirected the conversation.

“A woman from the homeland, not your friend but your mother’s friend, seems unhappy about controlling all the family business.”

At that moment, Levi came out with the coffee. Perhaps their conversation sounded like simple catching up between friends, as she placed the coffee cup in front of the detective with a slight smile.

“Yes, exactly. I only asked her to at least handle household matters, but she said, ‘I’m your mother’s friend, not your maid.’ What’s with that? Her English is awkward too… I really don’t like it.”

“If your mother knew this conversation was happening behind her back, she wouldn’t be pleased, would she? It’s probably better if she doesn’t know I heard this from you.”

It might have been an act of betrayal. It was also willingly stepping outside the organizational rules that the mafia tried to uphold in the name of honor. Or perhaps it was an attempt to maintain organizational discipline.

The detective decided not to judge. He already had many judgments to make. The Fenid branch leader continued, still smiling.

“Besides, that woman wears gloves because she hates shedding hair. Isn’t it funny that she throws away gloves after using them once, as if she’s some Sicilian noble?”

It sounded like if he were looking for gloves covered in Fenid hair, he could find them somewhere unrelated to the Godmother. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who used the trash can next to the factory to hide things.

Once again, they were simply using each other. The damage from gaining the notoriety of directly handling the Godmother’s handler was greater than gaining the reputation of cleanly dealing with someone who had harmed his client. At least for now.

After briefly organizing his thoughts, the detective redirected the conversation. It was a statement that would make the Fenid take responsibility while he did the work. If the notoriety was burdensome, then don’t take it.

“If that’s the case, I should relay a message to your mother too, but I’ll make it look like it came from family. You have relatives who don’t get along with you. I’ll make it look like they did it.”

The Fenid branch leader clicked her tongue once. It was obvious that this would raise suspicions of someone leaking information. A woman like Giuseppina, whose only virtue was loyalty, would easily avoid the noose, but someone like her would not.

However, she had no intention of revealing anything. Finding a way to avoid the Godmother’s suspicion was entirely her responsibility. They continued adding and removing weights from each other’s scales, repeatedly placing them on the opposite side.

He now had a reason to search the trash cans near the factory, but he couldn’t turn over information received from a mafia branch leader to the police to arrest that Fenid. The angels were uncomfortable getting entangled with the mafia.

He couldn’t tell the Godmother that he had taken revenge because she had touched his client. Still, he could wrap a sardine can in a coat marked with stab wounds to the back and side and throw it there.

Now that he knew the method, he needed to ask for the reason. All he had heard so far was why this branch leader wanted to eliminate the handler the Godmother had brought from Sicily.

“You know what’s behind this, whether we make a deal or not. The real issue is why your mother was so clingy. I’d like you to convince her.”

“While I would cleanly give up after one small failure and turn my attention to bigger matters, our mother is quite strict with me. Ah, yes. She seems to think she needs to break my pride, so she wanted to show me her handling what I failed to do. Ha! Only the most joyful results remain.”

Her goal would have been to send someone to subtly persuade and threaten when the demon boss arrived in the morning and tried to figure out who was behind the dead security guard and union leader.

Unfortunately, three more people were there. For unknown reasons, my client who was there, the assailant who was there with information they couldn’t know, and me. We were variables to each other.

But making sense wasn’t enough. He needed words to confirm that everything fit together perfectly. The most important thing was one question: why did events overlap like this?

“Why today specifically? It could have been shown the night the persuasion failed, or yesterday or the day before. Did you report to your mother late?”

“I don’t like losing my neck, so I reported immediately. Mother originally planned to watch, but when she saw some guy repeatedly going in and out, talking, she slowly began to act. The Industrial Union’s job is obvious. We stopped the strike. We’ll manage the union. In return, just pay up. Simple.”

I told my client to find some people who would stay out of the strike, but did she secretly go in and out of the factory to persuade those people? Perhaps the client, suffering from her inability to do anything, didn’t just stop at organizing a list but went directly to persuade people about what was happening. Or maybe she tried to convince them to come with her to the Industrial Union branch.

Now it seemed safe to believe her words. Only my client and I knew that I had made such a suggestion to her. The fact that she said she saw this meant it was true.

This was a mistake. Because of what I said to distract my client, she died, and not knowing this, the assailant became a murderer in an attempt to handle things quickly.

But I clearly warned my client not to go directly and tell them… and the lynch mob already had one chance. All of this happened because he assaulted the union leader.

So everyone just needs to take responsibility for their part. The client paid with her life for ignoring the warning. The lynch mob became a murderer for kicking away his one chance. I had to take responsibility for my mistake.

With sufficient grounds and having discussed the method, it was time to conclude. The detective extended his hand first. The Fenid branch leader, who had been sipping espresso, extended her hand in return.

The two shook hands. Since he had already shown what kind of person he was, he didn’t grip too tightly. He smirked leisurely.

“Well, let’s do that then. I’ll have to work hard patching things up to prevent family breakdown.”

She pulled the hand she was holding, drawing the detective closer. She knew that the detective had lowered his head without resistance. That’s why she whispered in his ear.

“Ah, Leone. You don’t seem to properly understand what a great fortune it is not to worry about the abilities of the person you’re assigning work to. You’re blackjack without a split. You’re the kind of hand that deserves cheers the moment the cards are revealed, and such a hand appeared not just anytime, but when I was playing against a woman who pushed me away from my table and sat in the dealer’s seat. Patching things up? I want to give you a kiss of gratitude!”

Though he preferred working without an assistant, if he had one, they would certainly find it frustrating. So he responded with an appropriate smirk.

“Beast heads aren’t really my taste. Well, see you at Cafe Caligula after the job is done.”

The detective’s part of the job seemed to be wrapping up, but as mentioned, what he learned here wouldn’t make the assailant innocent. That was something the journalist and lawyer had to handle.

Perhaps he could at least instill confidence in the journalist. If she could be certain that man wasn’t the culprit, she could take another step. What she needed was certainty.

Faith was like firewood. It burns well and reliably but doesn’t turn fire into fierce flames. To her, certainty and truth were like bituminous coal that would burn like a pillar of fire once ignited.

That fiery temperament was something the Clichy president had passed down well. No, perhaps she was a woman who had inherited everything from the Clichy president. It was simply that their environments were too different.

Though it was still a time when police would be around, his trust relationship with Inspector Semangelof hadn’t been broken, so he wouldn’t face any restrictions wandering around the scene.

Moreover, it was obvious that they might think a detective frantically searching after his client’s death might bring evidence favorable to them. His relationship with Inspector Semangelof was also one of mutual use.

As expected, the detective reached the front of Smith Chemical Factory without any restriction. Inspector Semangelof even seemed to welcome him. The detective gave a slight nod.

“I thought you’d gone back to rest? Even though your client died, you’re being excessively diligent. I can’t let you into the scene.”

“I’m just looking around to see if there’s anything to salvage nearby, so you needn’t worry. Is that alright?”

Inspector Semangelof only said to bring anything he found. The detective searched the trash can where he had discarded items. He removed his waterproof sack separately.

It took only a moment to search through the pile of garbage underneath. Whether deliberately pushed deep to hide it or not, there was a deeply sunken part in the garbage pile. When he reached his hand in, he felt quite a large glove.