Ch.64Request Log #008 – In Search of the Clues to Sorcery (5)

The client who came to my home-office at seven-thirty in the morning ended my rest that had been as brief as a cheap pulp fiction novel. The low knock suggested an elf.

I briefly lowered my head to check outside through the lens… it was that reporter. Looks like she really came to find me boldly after I told her to hire me. I had no reason to turn away a client. I opened the door.

“I don’t understand why you gave me your card if you weren’t going to answer your phone, Detective.”

Seems she’d been calling all day yesterday. I tapped the “Out of Office” sign attached above the door I’d left open for her to enter.

“If I don’t answer on my day off, you should come find me. I worked until the day before yesterday, and even in a job without weekends like detective work, I need at least one day of rest. Come in.”

The reporter entered along with her lawyer. I acknowledged the lawyer’s brief bow with a nod of my chin, and after letting them in, I carefully replaced the “Out of Office” sign and closed the door. If work was coming, I’d soon be out again.

I sat across from them after seating them in the office chairs, without offering tea—fitting for a place that couldn’t properly host guests. I’d expected a young lady raised in a good home to get angry at such rudeness, but her expression was surprisingly normal.

Her eyes were different from last time. Those eyes that had seemed overwhelmed just receiving my card now had something more like vitality in them. It was hatred. This must be related to Giuseppina.

She took a short breath before speaking.

“I’d like to request protection. That is, as you know, from Giuseppina Proci. Last night I… well, I made something like a declaration of war.”

So she blurted it out in anger. It’s fortunate that Giuseppina hadn’t touched her by this morning, as she apparently managed to arrive here on foot. I had no reason to refuse. I nodded briefly.

“The fee is 20 dollars per day, and expenses will come from your money. Do you have proof you can afford both a lawyer and a detective? Showing your balance would be the cleanest way.”

The lawyer, who always stepped in when things seemed too fragile for the reporter to answer, continued.

“The fee will be paid by the New York branch of Clichy Corporation, Mr. Husband. Leafman was your mother’s surname, wasn’t it, Rose?”

Clichy Corporation would pay my employment fee? The heartless Clichy president wouldn’t help others, much less throw money at them.

Come to think of it, when the Clichy president assigned me work last time, he also included writing a letter to some reporter as part of the job. I couldn’t possibly remember that reporter’s name. I hadn’t paid attention.

The reporter nodded emphatically in front of me. If this reporter was that reporter, and if her surname wasn’t Leafman… things could get messy.

“I should reintroduce myself, shouldn’t I? I’m Rose Clichy, Detective. The seventh daughter of Charles Clichy, president of Clichy Corporation, and a reporter. You also nearly killed me.”

This is giving me a headache. I hadn’t even considered she might be the daughter of the Clichy president, who had changed her surname, perhaps not wanting to receive help from her family. So I nearly killed my regular client’s daughter.

Seeing the lawyer’s expression grow confident, I clicked my tongue and called her over. I gestured with my chin for her to follow me as I crossed behind the curtain separating my living space from the office.

Judging by the reporter’s completely clueless expression, she didn’t know I worked for the Clichy president. The lawyer probably knew.

The lawyer briefly stood and crossed behind the curtain. She didn’t comment on my sparsely furnished room.

An elf’s sensitive senses couldn’t be blocked by just a curtain, so I tore a receipt-shaped paper attached to the curtain, which was infused with magic, to cast a sound-blocking spell. Now even an elf’s senses couldn’t hear us.

“This job has gotten damn complicated. I’m guessing you didn’t tell the Clichy president that I tried to kill his daughter. You’d need to use that to convince me to take this job. And that reporter has no idea who her father is. Am I wrong?”

The lawyer shook her head, with the end of her shield resting on the floor. The Clichy president was truly a good father to his family.

“I didn’t hide it to blackmail you. Rose doesn’t know how to harm people who help her. I know this. I’m a lawyer.”

It would be troublesome if things went sour with a regular client. And this lawyer knew very well from the hotel that I absolutely hated troublesome matters.

“And yes, you’re right. Rose only knows the Clichy president as an honest businessman and good father. As you know, he really is a good father.”

“There’s no elf better when it comes to family. So, did the Clichy president also tell her to hire me?”

The lawyer with long bangs covering her eyes nodded briefly. Then the contract conditions would be obvious.

“Not telling the reporter who her father is must also be a condition of the contract. How long does the Clichy president think he can hide it?”

“He plans to tell her once Rose has had enough taste of reality. She’s still trustworthy and good, but… yes, a bit naive.”

“I wonder what her expression will be when she realizes you knew everything but never said a word to her.”

The lawyer bit her lip. Though her expression wasn’t fully visible because of her bangs, I could vaguely feel her glaring at me.

Now that I could talk to the reporter, I pulled back the curtain and went out. Making an appropriate excuse, I began collecting information necessary for the job. I was someone who could talk to Giuseppina.

“We’ve finished discussing money and protection. First, tell me what happened. I’ve made declarations of war too. I can’t understand the situation with just those same words.”

Only then did the reporter look a bit flustered. She rolled her eyes as if unsure where to begin or end, but apparently deciding to speak without hiding anything, she blurted out something quite irritating.

“So, while I was investigating the Argonne Invincibles, I was followed by Giuseppina Proci. When she tried to intimidate me, asking if I was investigating you, I poured out all my frustration. Giuseppina Proci left without trying to touch me after hearing I was a businessman’s daughter… but I thought I should hire you before Giuseppina does.”

I looked at her again with tired eyes. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to tell her everything and drive her mad. But for the honor of my comrades, I swallowed my words and answered.

“If your request is to watch your back while you investigate my comrades, I’ll refuse. I’ll shoot and punch for you, but detectives don’t sell that. We sell trust. Why should I show trust to a client who doesn’t trust me?”

I looked at the reporter, meaning for her to remember what I’d said. She seemed to be weighing things in her mind, then nodded.

“While you’re protecting me, I swear on my family’s honor…”

“I’m a man who doesn’t know about noble things like honor. I only know two things. Money and work. So, if you snoop around, I’ll quit this job. I’ve said enough for you to understand.”

It was better to cut this off at my level than to make those old soldiers—either holed up in veterans’ halls refusing to come out, or wandering the streets like vagrants—answer such questions.

“Fine. If that’s the only condition, I have no reason to refuse. For the duration… I’d like it to be until I’m safe, but how can I completely shake off Giuseppina?”

The longer this lasted, the more money I’d make, but if I had to work until both parties were exhausted, I’d get scratched and broken in many places. I considered for a moment.

Giuseppina was mafia. Just a thug, but a thug with hierarchy. She was a common player who followed the words of her superiors like the Godmother and the mafia’s honor like her life.

And I had the right to ask Giuseppina for one favor. This wouldn’t change regardless of who I worked for.

The mafia would never throw away the shell of honor that hid their filth.

I could use this to ask Giuseppina not to touch the reporter, but considering her personality, it would only be a temporary solution.

Eventually, she’d get permission from higher up and try to harm the reporter again. Having accepted the protection request, it was a detective’s responsibility to provide protection. I couldn’t neglect my responsibilities.

If this reporter’s father was Charles Clichy, we could potentially negotiate with the Godmother. Let’s leave killing Giuseppina as a last resort. There was no need to completely antagonize the mafia.

“When I worked for Giuseppina last time, I was gifted the right to ask her for one favor. I’ll use that to ask her to introduce me to the Godmother, then negotiate with the Godmother. Only the Godmother can order the execution of someone, whether they’re a member of the organization or not. Until then, I’ll follow you personally.”

The Clichy president was an elf who made excellent use of militias. He was an elf supremacist himself, and also an elf who earned tremendous admiration from lower-class elves, who were treated as society’s trash, by giving them work.

The Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn in New York would move at a single word from the Clichy president, and mafia members would die just the same if firebombs were thrown and guns were fired.

The mafia cherished their members like family, but to the Clichy president, those militias were merely useful tools, so he would never hesitate to push them forward. That should be enough.

Taking this job would naturally help me resolve my entanglement with the mafia. It was like spraying water on a dog that wanted to shake itself off.

The reporter’s eyes lit up slightly as she listened to me, then she showed a slightly anxious expression and asked casually.

“What if, um, you can’t end it with negotiation? I mean, the Godmother could refuse, right?”

“No, the Godmother won’t refuse. Even for the mafia, it’s easier to stop Giuseppina than to confront a businessman. Did you ever tell Giuseppina which company your father is president of?”

“Yes? Yes, I did. I told her it was Clichy Corporation…”

Things are working out easily. A mafia Godmother might look down on one or two businessmen, but she wouldn’t look down on the Clichy president.

How many unexplained fires had occurred in the offices and factories of companies that dared to become his rivals, and how many employees and occasionally even middle managers had been caught by the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn and hanged from trees? If the Godmother knew the company name, she would have people investigate, and eventually she would find out.

“Then she definitely won’t refuse. Giuseppina should know this well too, so even if I ask her, she’ll try to stall as much as possible until she takes me to the Godmother. During that time, I’ll follow you personally.”

The reporter’s expression showed some relief at my words that I would follow her. Though it was true that I had tried to kill her, she must have also seen how useful I could be.

People tend to feel more reassured when something they fear becomes their ally than when someone else becomes their ally. The reporter was no different.

The business talk seemed to be wrapping up when the reporter began to wrinkle her nose. The sensitive elf had sensed something, an unpleasant smell. Not long after, someone began knocking on the door.

Naturally, the knocking came from a high position. It seems Giuseppina was a step late. I got up, leaving my clients seated, and approached the door. Seeing the wine-colored suit, I opened it.

It was Giuseppina. Having come a long way, she was dressed very neatly, but upon seeing the back of someone already sitting at my office desk, she growled.

“Am I late, Detective? I thought you wouldn’t betray me…”

“You’re late, Giuseppina. And betrayal? You just hired me for a few bucks, and so did they.”

Giuseppina wasn’t smart, but she was cunning. Recalling our agreement, she smiled, pushing up the corners of her mouth.

“The reporter’s smart too. Hiring a detective who has an agreement with me. Well. Will you ask for it, Detective? A request you can’t refuse.”

“Yes, I will make a request. I’d like you to introduce me to the Godmother as you promised last time. You can set the time whenever you want. I don’t mind.”

Giuseppina tilted her head quizzically at my request. She looked down at me mockingly, as if this wasn’t a situation where I should be making such a request.

She didn’t know about the Argonne Invincibles. If she didn’t know us, she couldn’t prepare against us.

“The Godmother probably won’t have time until next week? Ha, do you think you can protect her until then, Detective? Don’t make a stupid choice. You’re quite a competent and good detective. I don’t want to put you on a plate too.”

As Giuseppina reached out with her beast-like furry hand toward my shoulder, I gently grabbed her wrist. Despite her putting her weight and strength into pushing down, her hand didn’t move.

Now I applied force. Her wrist was thicker than my grip, but nevertheless, as her flesh was compressed, she closed her grinning mouth and gritted her teeth.

“Don’t make a stupid choice, Giuseppina. This is a detective’s responsibility. I just took the job, and as long as my damn professional conscience and the fee those clients paid remain, I have a duty to protect that reporter. Do you doubt a detective who can charm the Irish mafia and find your brother in a single night?”

I released her wrist as if throwing it. Giuseppina now growled with clear hostility toward me. Yet the fact that she didn’t reach out suggested she was a player who could never abandon pretense.

“No, I don’t doubt you at all. I’ll contact you when a meeting with the Godmother is scheduled, so wait, Detective. It will be a long wait, so eat well and sleep well while waiting. Goodbye.”

Her words were quite kind, but her expression wasn’t. She turned her back again and returned to the elevator.

When the thugs waiting for Giuseppina growled about whether they should do something, I slightly unbuttoned my coat to show the holster I was wearing and the trusty 1911 pistol securely tucked in it.

Unless they were quite stupid, they wouldn’t want a shootout here, and if they had any sense at all, they definitely wouldn’t want one inside a closed elevator that would become their slaughterhouse.