Ch.68Second Entanglement – The Mafia and Swing Jazz (4)

Giuseppina was staying up all night waiting for Inspector Jonathan’s call from the Godmother. The phone rang. It had to be the Godmother calling on the organization line at this hour.

Giuseppina quickly answered. She almost called out to the Godmother first, her chest tight with anxiety that Inspector Jonathan might have failed, but she barely managed to restrain herself.

Wasn’t it the Godmother? There was no voice on the other end of the phone Giuseppina picked up. After waiting a bit longer, the Godmother’s voice returned, sounding somewhat tired.

“Yes, Branch Manager Giuseppina… The journalist hired quite a skilled fixer. Jonathan failed. He’s dead. I’ll send someone to retrieve the body soon.”

The Godmother’s voice had become quite emotionless. Every child would discard a worn-out stuffed toy when they got a better plaything. The Godmother was the same, having caught the scent of a more valuable male.

Either that, or she thought showing weakness to Giuseppina was more dangerous than showing it to the detective. The Godmother was a cold game.

“Then, that…”

The Godmother cut off Giuseppina’s question with a tsk sound, as if scolding a misbehaving child, and continued. The bad news for Giuseppina wasn’t over.

“Moreover, that detective knows us quite well. He made it clear who had breached etiquette in negotiations by reminding us that he was supposed to be introduced through you. If you don’t abandon your honor, I can’t help you anymore. Is this matter important enough to abandon honor?”

The Godmother had abandoned her honor only once. It was when she invited another boss of the divided Italian gangs to her home, shot and killed his entire family and executives, and united half of the gangs.

She was asking if the detective was truly worth more than the gang boss she had killed then, and no one would nod to that question. Giuseppina remained silent.

“Absolutely not, Godmother! I’ll handle it myself!”

Once again, the Godmother made a tsk, tsk sound, scolding Giuseppina.

“Don’t get excited, Giuseppina. Your quick temper is your downfall. Either way, you’re my daughter. You know that, right? It means you can be acknowledged without having to prove anything. When you try to prove something, you lose your cunning and become nothing but a growling beast. Be cunning, Giuseppina. Be cunning. And know when to give up if things get too big.”

The fact that the journalist had called a detective and requested an all-out confrontation under the honor of the mafia and Italians already meant things had gotten too big.

The Godmother could afford to lose one assassin and one informant, but not a branch manager. In other words, the detective was someone capable of shooting and killing an impetuous Giuseppina.

Being a rational human, he wouldn’t easily shoot Giuseppina under normal circumstances, fearing future consequences, but he now had backing. He had the Clichy Corporation president’s militia behind him.

Giuseppina found some composure from the Godmother’s words, but only a little. She still wanted to achieve results and compensate for the Godmother’s assassin who died due to her mistake.

“I’ll do that. I’ll subdue him well, and I’ll also take care of the detective who wounded your honor, so please wait with ease. Phew, I can do this.”

It was a voice that could somewhat reassure the Godmother, but she still didn’t think Giuseppina would succeed. Tonight, she expected a call saying the meeting with the detective needed to happen earlier.

“Alright, I’ll try to believe you, Branch Manager Giuseppina.”

The call ended, and Giuseppina’s hatred for the detective deepened another layer. Not only had he betrayed her, but he had also killed the Godmother’s man.

Could she kill him? No, she should kill him. This was vendetta, revenge against someone who had insulted the Godmother’s honor. She couldn’t even imagine how much respect she would receive if she succeeded in this vendetta for the Godmother.

The Cowboy’s words followed New Yorkers like a curse. Those who only look at tomorrow wagered as a stake lose today in their hands. This saying was truly fair to everyone.

Giuseppina raised her hand and clenched her fist, silencing the restaurant filled with whispering gangs. She made a sweeping gesture and brought her index and middle fingers down in front of her.

The hands of the gangs spoke louder than their mouths. About five organization members who filled the restaurant even at dawn gathered around. They were the biggest and most combat-capable gangs under Giuseppina.

Giuseppina growled, displaying her beast-like charisma. With her claws extended, she grabbed the table with both hands, clutching it as if she would break it.

“The detective who visited Simone last time has now betrayed us! This is defection, this is betrayal! Moreover! He killed the Godmother’s man like a dog! He ambushed him, made him die and roll around like trash. So, we’re going to take revenge. We’re going to vendetta! Think of a way to lure him out. Understand?”

If nothing else, Giuseppina had a talent for incitement. Her appealing voice, natural lies, and a drop or two of truth made the other gangs enthusiastic.

The gangs’ unique giggling cry filled the restaurant. Giuseppina’s honor-blinded words were contagious. It would certainly be a problem if those who heard them also became blinded by honor.

One of the gangs growled as if something had occurred to him. Giuseppina gave him a brief nod, and he spoke.

“It would be good to make him let his guard down. How about pretending to continue targeting the journalist to draw him in? The detective will act to protect the journalist, not himself. Since you know the address of the editor-in-chief of the newspaper where the journalist works, maybe you should visit there first…”

It wasn’t a bad plan. That guy was obsessed with work. He was the kind who finished a job in just one night that could have been dragged out to earn more compensation, like when he was asked to find Simone.

Such a guy wouldn’t be busy protecting himself. A smile appeared on Giuseppina’s face, and she nodded. The time was 6:38.

“Go right away, capture him, and contact me. If this succeeds, you’ll be able to join the dinner with the Godmother.”

At 6:40, as the Godmother said, two female gangs arrived to take the car. They got into the car without being armed or worrying about the detective’s ambush.

Though watching from the fourth-floor window, there was no intention to attack. They were allowed to see the scene of retrieving the body from this room where the journalist wouldn’t be sniped.

After silently watching her bow her head briefly as if in prayer, without sneering, as soon as the car left, the window was closed and the curtain drawn.

“The Godmother kept her promise. That means Giuseppina also knows that the assassin sent by the Godmother failed.”

Thinking about Giuseppina’s attitude when meeting the notary. Despite being just a male gang with his tongue cut out and no abilities, she treated him with such respect because he was her superior.

She was like a child who grew up without receiving affection, always trying to prove herself and gain recognition from both subordinates and superiors. She was constantly struggling.

The detective had created a situation where Giuseppina was likely to misstep by killing Inspector Jonathan. If Giuseppina also failed, there would be no way to heal the wound to the Godmother’s honor.

Then Giuseppina would move. The detective was, as always, confident. He knew what Giuseppina would do. She would go after someone the journalist knew. They needed to leave immediately.

Yesterday, I made it clear to the Godmother that this was between Giuseppina and the journalist, so Giuseppina won’t touch people I know. If she does, she’ll regret it.

“Who among your acquaintances might Giuseppina target? She probably doesn’t know many people around you, and if your father is President Clichy, there aren’t many people she could touch without worry.”

The journalist immediately thought of the editor-in-chief. Among the people she knew, he was the only one who had been directly threatened by Giuseppina. So, she would surely target him again.

“My newspaper’s editor-in-chief! So, what was his address…”

It was hard to recall without concentration. Just like trying to remember something in a dream, it wouldn’t come to mind easily.

Even though she had been told to keep her feet firmly on the ground while looking at the stars, she was still living only in dreams. Rose gritted her teeth in frustration. She was angry at herself for being like this.

Let Paulina answer this time. Just this once. The detective was a man who exuded the smell of vileness, but that smell of vileness woke the journalist up like the smell of sulfur given to an unconscious person.

“I know it, so let’s go for now. If the gangs haven’t really gone there…”

“Come back to the apartment right away. Unless we encounter them there, they’ll contact us. Giuseppina is a simple gang. If someone gets hurt, she’ll seek revenge, and if it’s the Godmother, blood will rush to her head and she’ll make a stupid choice. She might do vile things, but out of honor, she won’t do extremely vile things.”

The journalist smiled, seeming to know what the detective would say next. Today, she didn’t hold back her anger. She didn’t swallow her hatred for Giuseppina.

“And you would do extremely vile things if necessary?”

Seems like she’s been provoked. The detective looked down at the journalist without emotion and nodded.

“Yes, I could drive by and shoot from the car, or I could draw my gun and shoot to kill as soon as I get out of the car instead of talking with my silver tongue. I probably won’t kill Giuseppina if I can help it. This is a commission, and I wasn’t commissioned to kill Giuseppina.”

The fact that the detective was involved meant things had already gotten too big, but it also meant things hadn’t gotten uncontrollably big yet. That line had to be maintained.

Paulina took the wheel again, and Rose hid in the back seat. The detective loaded a trench-cleaning shotgun from his duffel bag and held it. He was exceptionally skilled at concealing weapons.

To the journalist, the detective seemed like a person who didn’t know the word “tomorrow.” He might have read its meaning in a dictionary, but he didn’t move toward tomorrow. Tomorrow came to him.

He was the type of person who didn’t care about tomorrow wagered as a stake and only thought about how to win the game with today in his hands. If the Cowboy had known the detective, would the two have understood each other? She became momentarily sentimental.

No, no. Now was not the time to be sentimental. She checked the time. It was 6:43, the sky beginning to turn orange though the sun hadn’t risen yet.

Was the editor-in-chief the type to be awake from this early dawn? Yes, it’s about the time he’d be returning from the printing house after checking the morning newspaper. It was a time when Giuseppina could target the editor-in-chief.

And, there was something else she needed to tell the detective… His son whom she had met last time. She still couldn’t remember his name properly, but the name was trivial.

“Ah, the editor-in-chief lives with his son. He’s a Great War veteran…”

“Johnny? From the Argonne Invincibles?”

As he searched his memories for anyone among his comrades who had mentioned their father was a newspaper editor, the journalist immediately shook her head.

“He wasn’t an Argonne Invincible. And it wasn’t Johnny, it was Gerard…”

“Johnny means he’s an American soldier. You really don’t know anything about the military or war, yet you were investigating the Argonne Invincibles. Isn’t that right?”

Since Rose didn’t know anything more than that he had a son with a military background, she nodded, thinking it was just small talk to ease tension.

This kind of meaningless chatter sharpened the detective’s mind like a stone grinding a blade. It helped him organize his thoughts and relax his body to reach an optimal state.

“Well, I’m someone who believes that if everyone lays down their weapons, we can have peace. The military, weapons… they could all disappear. Ah, it would be strange if I didn’t think that way, right? Phew, you can laugh if you want. It’s just nonsense and a joke anyway.”

Saying something in front of a cynical person like the detective required quite a bit of determination. He was the type to break confidence with mockery and gnaw away at what remained with ridicule.

Still, the detective’s words sounded quite friendly to her. At least for a moment.

“Maybe that could happen if everyone really could lay down their weapons. But, if ninety-nine out of a hundred people lay down their weapons, the last one will think: ‘Wait, I’m the only one with a weapon in this world now. Why should I put it down? Can’t I get whatever I want just by pointing my gun?’ And then it fails.”

It was a distinctly realistic statement. The journalist smirked back at the detective. If it was just meaningless talk to gather courage, she thought she could joke a little too.

“Where did hope and optimism go?”

“Traded them for a pack of cigarettes on the battlefield. I was more desperate for a cigarette, even a wet one, than hope and optimism.”

The detective’s expression was full of composure. Just as the journalist felt a bit of fulfillment at the thought that she had helped in every way she could, Paulina cleared her throat.

Drawing the attention of the two, she pointed to the editor-in-chief’s house that was starting to appear ahead. It was an ordinary detached house a bit away from the center of New York, and there was an unfamiliar car stopped in front of the house.

No, it wasn’t an unfamiliar car. The car that had followed her and Paulina last time was there. The other one… was it the car Giuseppina had been in? She hadn’t gotten a good look at that one.

“We’re almost there. That house over there… The cars parked in front of the house aren’t the editor-in-chief’s. They seem to have arrived already. Two cars, so at most about ten of them.”

“I’m not sure about the second car, but the first one is the gangs’ car. Paulina and I were followed by that car last time. Other than that…”

The detective handed three flashlight bulbs from his pocket to the journalist, who was trying to be useful, placing one each between his index, middle, and ring fingers.

“Inject mana. Just enough so you can burst them if you inject a bit more. The lawyer will stay here with the journalist, and there’s a gun in my duffel bag, so shoot and kill the gangs if they try to escape. What’s a lawyer’s job? Is it to protect the client, or to uphold the lawyer’s code that lawyers don’t use weapons?”

The detective knew Paulina was the same kind of person as him. Paulina took out Inspector Jonathan’s police pistol from the detective’s duffel bag.

“It’s to protect the client. Be careful not to get involved in physical arguments.”

Clean. The detective quietly pushed the car door and got out. Three flashlight bulbs injected with mana, starting to emit an ozone smell, were in one hand, and a trench shotgun in the other.

There were two entrances. The living room window was open, and the house door was swinging, having been smashed open by force. From inside the house came the smell of gang fur. And the smell of blood and gunpowder.

Had the editor’s son, a fellow soldier, stepped up to protect his family and been shot? If so, that wasn’t necessarily bad. This was exactly the kind of thing the Argonne Invincibles had been tasked with during the Great War.

“This little bastard… I said no one would get hurt if he stayed still, but he dared to point a gun at our guys? He’s barely enough to fit on a plate, but it’s better to have an injured hostage…”

Giuseppina’s voice was heard. There would be about ten gangs in the house, but not a single one was watching outside the window. He charged forward with double strength, finished injecting mana into the bulbs, and threw them.

Gerard Thayer, a war veteran who had been shot and had his belly torn by Giuseppina’s claws after killing one of the gangs who had broken down the door with a shotgun, felt a sense of déjà vu at that moment.

It was another life-or-death situation. At that moment, something flew in again and there was a flash. Again, the sound of a shotgun firing rang out. He instinctively knew that the Argonne Invincibles had come.