Ch.66Second Entanglement – The Mafia and Swing Jazz (2)

Giuseppina felt trapped. The detective who had worked so hard for her last time was now sitting with that reporter bitch. She growled as she crammed herself into the backseat of the car carrying her organization members.

What she couldn’t understand was his grip strength. Giuseppina was a troll with strength matching her size. She was strong enough to overpower even a decent-sized ogre.

Yet the detective had grabbed her wrist as if holding a child’s, squeezing until it hurt, then tossed her away like garbage. There was definitely something unusual about him.

The branch members, sensing their leader’s foul mood, kept their mouths shut as they returned to her restaurant. Upon arrival, Giuseppina turned the sign to “Closed.”

She had something to do. Even if it was a promise to a detective who had betrayed her, it was a promise Giuseppina had made on her honor and had to keep.

She picked up the phone and called the notary rather than the Godmother. After several rings, the call connected. The notary, who had cut out his own tongue for the organization, had no voice.

“This is Branch Leader Giuseppina of the Proci branch. I would like to request that you tell the Godmother I need to speak with her urgently.”

When she waited without hanging up, the notary disconnected first. Even though she had only spoken with the notary, not the Godmother, her heart was pounding.

The notary was also her superior. No matter how beast-like she was, he was someone whose mood she needed to consider and please. She wasn’t accustomed to such behavior.

Even when one of the Godmother’s sons had a wedding, how many times had she practiced her greeting in front of a mirror the night before? Despite that, she had made a mistake, but the Godmother had simply smiled and overlooked it.

After a short wait, the phone in front of Giuseppina rang again. She cleared her throat, straightened her posture, and picked up the phone.

This time, the Godmother’s voice came through. In her usual tone, she identified herself first.

“Branch Leader Giuseppina.”

Now it was Giuseppina’s turn to confirm she had received the call. She answered with a composed voice.

“Yes, Godmother. This is Giuseppina.”

“I heard you have something urgent to tell me? When one of my daughters asks for a favor, I should listen personally. What is it?”

Giuseppina felt her tie tightening around her neck. It wasn’t improper to tell the Godmother that she wanted to introduce someone to her. As a branch leader, she could do that much.

“The detective I hired last time to find Simone has asked me to introduce him to you. I promised him I would grant him one favor of his choice as payment for his work.”

The Godmother’s laughter rang through the phone line. It was the kind of laugh one might give when confronted with a very bold child.

“A detective? I don’t know why he wants to meet me, but I am curious… Your voice sounds anxious, Giuseppina. Is something wrong?”

The Godmother’s voice became familial. It was an invitation to share any worries, and it was much kinder than when Giuseppina had called about Simone.

“Well, things have gotten complicated. I went to warn the reporter who tried to write an article about Simone last time because she seemed to be investigating the detective. The elf, who used to be fragile, actually stood up to me. So I threatened to make her pay, but this morning, that reporter hired my detective.”

The Godmother made a tsk, tsk sound. She kindly corrected Giuseppina’s choice of words.

“There’s no such thing as ‘your detective,’ Giuseppina. They work for whoever pays them. So, the detective hired by the reporter for protection wants to meet me. Do you know why?”

Returning to a somewhat more businesslike attitude, Giuseppina straightened her back and posture again at the Godmother’s voice.

“I think he wants to make a deal with you to prevent me from harming that reporter anymore. He seems to think he can negotiate because the reporter is a corporate executive’s daughter.”

The Godmother growled without malice. It was an action as natural as breathing for trolls.

“A corporate executive, you say? Whose daughter? You know we don’t bat an eye at corporate executives, Branch Leader Giuseppina.”

“I believe she’s Charles Clichy’s daughter. Clichy Corporation is quite large, and I was worried it might cause you trouble.”

The Godmother growled again, but this time it wasn’t without malice. It was a growl full of displeasure.

The Godmother knew the name Charles Clichy. He was the kind of elf who wore a crown made of twigs. A man who gave belief and belonging to ragtag elf trash, turning them into his own militia.

Though he hadn’t made a name for himself in New York, she knew that in Texas where he lived, he had influence as strong as the Godmother’s, which meant his daughter couldn’t be touched easily.

A cunning detective. It would be better to kill him, but if he couldn’t be killed, it might be better to embrace him at the cost of some bloodshed. Ordinary detectives in New York were rarely truly ordinary.

“He’s proposing an unpleasant deal. So, how much would it take to handle this, Giuseppina?”

Giuseppina didn’t understand the Godmother’s reaction. Clichy Corporation was large, but was it large enough for the Godmother to worry? She didn’t know much about the company beyond its name.

“If you give me a week, I’ll handle it myself. So you won’t have to meet that detective.”

“No, no, Giuseppina. I’ll help. And don’t worry. If you can hold out for a week, I’ll want to meet that detective. Can you tell me who he is, Giuseppina? Feel free to say more if you need to.”

When asked who the detective was, Giuseppina immediately provided his phone number and name. Michael Husband… a name the Godmother had never heard before. The gemstone had done a good job pretending to be a pebble.

Giuseppina was relieved. If the Godmother intervened directly, even that detective would be helpless. Looking at the question about whether she had anything more to say, she looked down at her wrist, bruised beneath her fur.

“That detective has monstrous strength. If you’re sending someone, it would be better to be careful.”

The Godmother didn’t snort. If Giuseppina, the largest and strongest of her branch leaders, used the word “monstrous,” it was indeed something to be wary of.

Perhaps she should test the waters with a gunman or two. There were plenty of females who wanted to join her organization, and plenty of illegal immigrants who wouldn’t be a problem if they failed and were caught by the police.

Still, there was no benefit in doing things messily. Even fighting among fellow gangsters would result in significant losses, and fighting Charles Clichy’s elf militia would cause even more bloodshed.

The Godmother gave Giuseppina a final instruction. Chivalrous rules in duels existed so that both sides would be less hurt, not because they were gentlemen.

“Handle it like a gentleman, Giuseppina. Business is done by females and men. Try to spare males and women, and children if possible. And if things go well, we’ll have dinner again.”

Giuseppina forgot to inform the Godmother that the reporter was a woman, but she didn’t worry much about it. The instruction was simply not to touch bystanders.

Giuseppina knew very well that there was no romance or coolness in the mafia. The reason they maintained honor was because without it, they would just be thugs in suits.

“Damn, things are getting complicated…”

Giuseppina felt an inexplicable foreboding. She felt anxious that the detective, who had handled most jobs in a single night, would somehow resolve this situation too.

As soon as the Godmother hung up the phone with Giuseppina, she immediately dialed another number. It was Jonathan’s number, who had helped her last time.

Just from what she had heard, she could make some guesses about the detective. He was a man who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot organization members.

But if he was pretending to live as a law-abiding citizen, he wouldn’t easily shoot police, and Jonathan could exploit that hesitation. True to form, the call connected without even a ring.

“Yes, Godmother. Inspector Jonathan Pace speaking.”

Jonathan was an exceptionally loyal man. It had been over a decade since she had taken him from the poorhouse where he was starving and brought him to her home to feed and raise him herself.

There wasn’t much reason for it. The Godmother had seen hatred in the eyes of that twelve-year-old boy. She had seen the hateful expression that only children who hadn’t received warmth or love could make.

Had the law saved him? Or had someone’s motherly warmth saved him? Would someone saved by such warmth follow the law, or would they follow the person who gave them that warmth? There was no need to even consider it.

“Ah, Jonathan. No need to be so formal. You know you can always come back home and lie on my lap. Right?”

“Of course I know, but if the police find me visiting the Godmother, it would raise suspicion. I think calls are all we can do until I quit this job… I miss you too, Mother.”

Ah, truly. Enjoying this cheap love and warmth-intoxicated man’s appearance could be considered the Godmother’s hobby. A beaming smile appeared on her face.

She had simply raised a promising talent, but during that time, the Godmother had also learned a bit about maternal love. The joy of watching Jonathan grow day by day into the person she wanted him to be.

“I have something I need you to do for me, Jonathan. If you handle this well, you might be able to put down your police work and come back home. I need you to kill someone. A detective named Michael Husband, who’s currently guarding a reporter. Get the details from Giuseppina and handle it properly. My son, okay?”

Among trolls, the word “son” didn’t carry much weight. Male trolls were small and weak. Female trolls were large and strong enough to be used as organization members. However, Jonathan was a valuable son.

“I’ll contact Branch Leader Giuseppina immediately to get the details and handle it. It won’t take long, Mother.”

How neat. She had always trusted Jonathan. Last time, he had even infiltrated a special investigation team within the police and became an excellent informant for her.

As soon as the call with the Godmother ended, Jonathan called Giuseppina. It could be considered a familiar voice by now. He never forgot and had patience. With that much, there was nothing he couldn’t do.

“Branch Leader Giuseppina, this is Inspector Jonathan Pace who helped you last time. The Godmother has contacted me to take care of that detective. Do you know his address?”

She knew the detective’s address, but since he was on a bodyguard job, he wouldn’t be at his office. She gave him the address of Rose Leafman… Rose Clichy, which she had found by searching through resumes at Golden Age Press.

“He should be there now. The reporter there tried to write an article about me last time, and this time she had the audacity to insult me… but the Godmother said not to touch males, women, and children.”

“Anyway, the task she gave me is just to take care of that detective. I’ll go there at dawn today.”

The response Giuseppina expected was “You know that’s just for show,” but Jonathan thought of nothing but the Godmother’s orders.

Last time, fearing that his trail would be discovered—more precisely, fearing that it would be discovered that his trail led to the Godmother—Inspector Jonathan had shot and killed his own junior whom he had personally selected, and used his gun to put a bullet hole in his own side as well. After shooting himself in the back, he had crawled while gritting his teeth in pain to place the gun in the dead junior’s hand and only passed out after reaching him.

For him, the Godmother’s orders were absolute. The orders of the mother who had given him the only love he had ever known in his life were absolute.

Was this Michael Husband the same detective who had tried to kill the reporter last time? If so, he was quite a ridiculous man. There was no man in this world who would protect a woman he had tried to kill before.

Inspector Jonathan couldn’t understand this kind of betrayal. If you followed someone, you followed them for life. If someone was an enemy, they were an enemy for life. You could disguise yourself, but you couldn’t change sides.

He headed to the apartment address Giuseppina had given him, targeting dawn. Fourth floor, she had said. It wouldn’t be difficult to break in. He was wearing a police uniform and had a police officer’s face.

Moreover, according to Giuseppina, the reporter there was the very reporter Jonathan had been guarding. Since Captain Leonard had said he wasn’t a traitor, the reporter would trust him.

He usually didn’t leave many records, but thinking that he could return home after finishing this job, Jonathan tucked the Godmother’s contact information into his pocket. Once should be fine.

He parked the police car in the apartment’s parking lot and got out. None of the apartments on the fourth floor had their lights on. The detective wouldn’t be standing watch.

But the detective was standing watch. He was still someone with one foot in the battlefield, someone who could fight after sleeping just two hours a day.

A police car stopping in the parking lot at 3 AM when no one was around—this couldn’t be a good sign. As far as he could remember, the reporter hadn’t contacted the police. He decided to check once more.

The detective silently entered Rose’s bedroom and gently shook her awake. Rose, whose hair was already disheveled, became even more so as she groggily opened her eyes.

“M-Michael? What is it at this hour…?”

“Be quiet. Did you call the police? A police car just arrived in the apartment parking lot. I saw someone get out and enter through the main entrance… if not here, there’s nowhere else they’d be going.”

The reporter shook her head. She hadn’t called Leonard, let alone her editor-in-chief.

“I wasn’t planning to contact the police until tomorrow. I thought I’d be safe today since I hired you…”

Ah, sending someone on the first night? Because of the dark parking lot, the detective couldn’t see the officer’s face and could only imagine what he looked like.

No, there was no need to imagine. The detective remembered the rookie officer and the clean-cut officer who had run out of the hotel together. Inspector Jonathan chose the stairs to avoid making too much noise on his way up.

That officer must have been a traitor working for the mafia, sent not by Giuseppina but by someone higher up. Inspector Jonathan reached the second floor. The detective returned to his room and attached a silencer to his pistol.

Inspector Jonathan reached the fourth floor, walking as if he had come here legitimately. The detective stood by the doorframe with his silenced pistol.

Though the two men were thinking different thoughts, at this moment they both realized the same thing: standing in front of the door right now would not be a wise choice.