Ch.70Second Entanglement – The Mafia and Swing Jazz (6)

The conversation between the Italian Gnoll matriarch and the detective was surprisingly cordial, to the point where Paulina couldn’t understand it. She had to double-check if they had actually called the right matriarch.

Paulina brushed aside her bangs that still covered her eyes as she looked down at the detective. Since Rose was developing the photos she had just taken, this was essentially private time between the detective and Paulina.

“Is it pretense, or some kind of ritual? It didn’t sound like conversation between people who were trying to kill each other.”

Your tone changes completely when dealing with reporters. The detective, feeling a strong sense of kinship with her, pulled out a chewing tobacco, placed it between his lower lip and teeth, and chewed it a couple of times.

“It’s pretense. And when did we ever try to kill each other? I was protecting my client, and the matriarch was trying to restore her branch manager’s insulted honor. There’s been some noise until now…”

The detective pulled out Inspector Jonathan’s revolver from his duffel bag to show her. It would be useful since it belonged to someone already dead and was a police weapon.

“Now the noise is gone. I wanted to negotiate, and negotiation became the best option for the mafia. At that point, all you need to do is shake hands and smile.”

Paulina’s hollow laugh echoed deeply. Though she was similar to the detective, she wasn’t nearly as accustomed to these matters as he was. Everything seemed so shallow, so superficial.

“How despicable.”

“It is despicable. I’m despicable, the mafia is despicable. This street isn’t any less despicable. This city doesn’t get any absolution either.”

Being called despicable was irritating but not particularly offensive. The lawyer had said it without malice, so he continued calmly.

“Then I suppose I’m despicable too. You know that.”

“I know well. It’s fine, it’s common. If everyone’s like that, what’s there to worry about?”

This lawyer had to work with secrets kept from a client who called him a friend and truly treated him as one. For contract workers like us, there was no known way to part with secrets and despicability.

After finishing those words, they were just exchanging awkward smiles when the reporter walked out. The detective stood up and tapped the sofa leg with the tip of his shoe, as if inviting her to sit. His metal-plated shoes made a metallic sound.

“I finished talking with the matriarch. We need to meet her this evening… but if we just go without preparation, things could go badly, so you’ll need some advice. Sit down.”

The reporter walked over and sat on the sofa with an expression showing neither fear nor concern. That ability to remain so calm is enviable.

“First, some basics. When talking to the matriarch, always make her feel respected. These guys didn’t kill us purely out of courtesy. In other words, they could break this comfort for the sake of courtesy too. If what we’ve had so far was a local skirmish, now we’re facing all-out war. Think of it as going to the front lines.”

This was the stage where they needed to be most careful. Until now, the armed detective could handle everything, but now it was time for the reporter to step up herself.

“Respect the matriarch… Should I use polite language? I, um…”

“Your normal way of speaking is fine, just don’t act awkward. And second, which follows from the first. When she asks you questions, answer clearly and firmly. No maybes. And she’ll likely ask if you insulted Giuseppina. Deny it vehemently. Anyway, only you and Giuseppina know what was actually said there.”

Giuseppina would have brought other Gnolls with her, but the meeting the matriarch proposed would include only the three of them and two Gnolls. In that setting, they had to trust the reporter’s eloquence.

“Insult… I did, actually… I mean, I did say something about Giuseppina killing her own brother…”

“Whether you actually did it or not doesn’t matter. Tell the matriarch you didn’t, and just be able to convince her why you wouldn’t have. Honesty has no use right now.”

The reporter took a deep breath. All her life, her father had repeatedly told her to be honest, but now she wondered if it was okay to break that rule just this once… She didn’t want to compromise, but she had to.

“And… returning the photos is already decided. Don’t think about keeping copies, just hand them over. Don’t try to blackmail them, and don’t say anything pressuring. Understand?”

“Blackmail is your specialty, not mine, Michael. If you don’t do it first, I won’t be the one to blackmail people.”

This was somewhat of a lie too. When Rose had shouted at Giuseppina that she would hire all of Blingkerton if she touched anyone close to her, that was sufficient blackmail by Rose’s standards.

“Good, at least we understand each other. And while your life will be spared, the conditions might be tough. They might not stop interfering with the newspaper, and though it’s better than the alternative, that editor might have to live with some anxiety. Still, what we settle today is settled. It ends here.”

The reporter considered the newspaper’s situation. Though outwardly it seemed to be enjoying a golden age, as the name Golden Age Press suggested, inside it was merely a gilded age, printing information paid for by the mafia.

Changing such a situation should rightfully, absolutely rightfully be done by someone who belongs to that newspaper. Not left to the detective.

“That’s only natural! And honestly… I want to handle the newspaper’s problems myself. It’s a workplace I love.”

It wasn’t the detective’s concern. There was no way this one reporter could shake off the mafia’s grip, but he was hired as a bodyguard, not as a consultant.

“Fine, do as you wish. Well… that’s about it. Six o’clock today, I know the restaurant location so I’ll drive. And the photos, are they still the same?”

The reporter, who had been recalling everything she’d heard, shuddered uncharacteristically. The detective’s photo she had developed was… yes, as terrible as she’d heard from the warlock-soldier veteran.

While everything around him was clearly captured, including Giuseppina’s unpleasant yet desperate expression with her hand raised, the detective’s face wasn’t properly photographed. His body outline was blurred, and his face was completely smudged.

The reporter nodded briefly. It was a moment that made her realize again the curse said to have settled on those who sacrificed people for magic in the Argonne Invincibles.

“Don’t be sad. I’m used to it. Your camera just can’t recognize who I am.”

Could it be that he appears twisted and smudged because he sacrificed someone to gain the strength of two people, and doesn’t know which person to appear as? The detective’s words provided a clue.

“Y-yes. Then… I’ll go prepare some clothes first!”

The reporter somehow fumbled her words and returned to her room. It felt like the reliability and shallow trust she had felt toward the detective was crumbling again. He too was a member of the Argonne Invincibles who had gained power by sacrificing people.

She wanted to ask, but she had made a promise to the detective. If she asked about this, she and Paulina would have to go to the dinner with the matriarch alone. Right now… she needed the detective more than pursuing the truth.

She had hired the detective to avoid compromising, but it seemed she was learning only how to compromise. Was this how one adapted to this city and its streets? If so, she didn’t want to adapt.

Already she felt her youth slipping away. In place of her bright, vibrant, fresh spirit that had fallen away, a faded heart grew, like autumn leaves ripening and about to scatter to the ground.

The reporter put on a neat, presentable formal skirt suit she had brought from home. She thought this suit would be appropriate since she was going as Rose Leafman the reporter, not as Charles Clichy’s daughter.

Though the restaurant was about 30 minutes away, they left a bit early. It wouldn’t be polite to arrive later than their counterpart.

The detective drove, and they reached the familiar Fifth Avenue in New York with such comfortable driving that she couldn’t compare who drove more neatly between him and Paulina.

This time too, she could see the hotel where she had been attacked before, but since the person who had attacked her was now sitting beside her in a neat suit, she wasn’t particularly anxious.

In front of the restaurant, a small male Gnoll and a large female Gnoll were waiting. The male Gnoll quietly stared at the detective and gestured something to the female Gnoll beside him.

The female Gnoll, who had been carefully watching that gesture, respectfully bowed her head and opened the door to the Gnoll restaurant.

“You must be the matriarch’s guests. The notary has confirmed, so you may enter. Branch Manager Giuseppina will be waiting at the middle table on the first floor.”

The tongueless Gnoll recognized the detective. The outsider hired by Giuseppina had now pointed a gun at Giuseppina, and apparently pointed it well enough to earn an opportunity to speak with the matriarch.

No, it wasn’t simply an opportunity to talk. The matriarch was willing to give up an evening’s revenue with Satchmo performing to talk with these three people, making this a bigger deal than the notary had thought.

The three entered the restaurant and walked into the first floor, which was decorated with marble and even had a rather splendid performance stage. It was a place full of luxury. She wondered how much just one of these floor tiles would cost.

At a table in the white-decorated restaurant sat Giuseppina. Having suffered both wounded pride and failed the matriarch’s expectations, she looked just like a drenched puppy.

She briefly raised her head to look at the reporter. A flash of hatred appeared but didn’t last long. Now the reporter was no longer just a reporter. She was the matriarch’s guest.

“You’re early. The detective must have set the time. Damn it…”

The reporter quietly cleared her throat. A female Gnoll approached and pulled out a chair for her. She sat down and looked directly at Giuseppina. Fueling her hatred like kindling, she responded.

“I hope you’re pleased to see the true worth of the detective you insulted. I was very satisfied, and if you hire him next time, Ms. Giuseppina, you’ll be very satisfied too.”

Surely Giuseppina wouldn’t be… purged or something for failing at this one task? Though she was certainly a hateful adversary, the reporter didn’t want to witness the cheapness of life anymore.

As this one exchange of polite hostility passed between them, the band walked onto the stage. Only Rose greeted them warmly.

What a luxurious scene. She was watching a jazz band that would cost more than her monthly salary just to book, performing right in front of her. Playing just for them. This was luxury she hadn’t experienced even with her father.

Still, the reporter remembered well that this behavior was a display of territory. They were simply boasting that their faction was large enough to employ such artists.

She had no intention of cowering. All the advice the detective had given was to ensure that I wouldn’t cower and would get the necessary results. She clenched her hands tightly under the table.

At that moment, the matriarch walked in. She wasn’t particularly large for a female Gnoll, and with her neatly combed fur, she gave off a neat and intellectual impression reminiscent of a pastor or teacher.

Not all Gnolls are beasts like Giuseppina. But even a Gnoll who doesn’t look like a beast would still have a beast’s nature. This time, she was neither optimistic nor careless.

When she entered, everyone, including Giuseppina, stood up. The detective also rose and quietly bowed his head in greeting, which pleased the matriarch.

The matriarch approached Rose first, before anyone else. She extended her hand as if for a handshake, and Rose took it and shook it lightly.

“So you’re Reporter Rose Leafman. You hired a detective to completely ruin my plans, caused my son’s death… and insulted Giuseppina. Isn’t that right?”

As the detective had advised, it took all her strength just to maintain a calm expression, and to speak well in that state required twice that effort. But she could do it.

“I never insulted Branch Manager Giuseppina. She tried to get too deeply involved in my work and tried to corner me with unfounded assumptions when I was just doing my job as a reporter, so I responded to that.”

The matriarch’s eyebrow twitched. It wasn’t the kind of answer a reporter would typically give… The detective had made another move. Still, even with his preparation, speaking this clearly was also the reporter’s own ability.

“Is that so? If that’s the case, things will be resolved more easily. There was just a little misunderstanding between us. I’m a reasonable person too, Reporter Leafman. I enjoy jazz and can poetically express how sweet the nectar of this golden age is. You’re a similar person, aren’t you? Do you enjoy jazz?”

“Yes, I can’t just let this golden age of jazz pass by. You’ve invited quite a famous band here? It’s almost too extravagant to listen to while dining. I’m a simple person, you see.”

Once again she was being tested, but she didn’t cross the line. As the pre-ordered food began to be prepared, the matriarch got straight to the point, intending to finish the conversation before the food arrived.

“Then before this extravagant music ripens too much, let’s quickly finish our talk and enjoy it comfortably. We can only enjoy Louis’s music halfway if it’s accompanied by mental distress. We can share comfort. What terms of the deal would you like, Reporter Rose Leafman?”

As if to see how prepared she was, the matriarch’s hyena maw briefly flashed with sharp teeth.

“I’ll return the photos I took, and shouldn’t Branch Manager Giuseppina rightfully return something in kind? Since I don’t know what I should demand in a place like this, I’ll leave it to you.”

She too was concise in her own way. In today’s world, there weren’t many people who could admit what they didn’t know instead of pretending to know.

People of this era rarely used the word “shame,” and “humility” had long since become nearly obsolete. It would surely disappear from dictionaries before long.

“Humble.”

The matriarch pronounced the word as if trying it for the first time, syllable by syllable. It was probably a word she hadn’t used in nearly ten years.

“I’m a Gnoll who knows how to help humble people. Giuseppina, stop bothering this reporter… and stop visiting the newspaper. Go your separate ways as if you’d never met. Understand?”

Giuseppina had no right to refuse. This was the matriarch’s decision. With just a word, she was making everything Giuseppina had been concerned about into nothing.

“Yes, matriarch. I will do so.”

The matriarch made a tsk-tsk sound, slowly clicking her tongue and shaking her head. She didn’t like the look of Giuseppina speaking with lingering resentment.

“You should at least apologize to someone you tried to kill, Giuseppina. That way we can enjoy our meal comfortably. We are intelligent and courteous people, aren’t we?”

With those words, the reporter placed the photos on the table. Giuseppina, taking the photos, bowed her head. She was a Gnoll who could sense that harboring more grudges would block her future path.

“I’m sorry for misunderstanding that I was insulted. I apologize. We’re now strangers who’ve never met, as the matriarch said.”

Rose smiled brightly again. It was an untainted smile, one that few people left in this city could make.

“I accept your apology. I won’t fear you anymore either. So… since I’m not a mafia member, I should call you this, right? Miss Giuseppina.”

As she finished speaking, the jazz band on stage, having completed their preparations, began to play. A lively melody close to a dance tune with characteristic powerful trumpet sounds flowed out. A perfect tune for this moment.