Ch.74Request Log #009 – How to Wash Away Sins (2)

The factory workers would know each other’s faces. Still, they probably wouldn’t recognize the face of a delivery truck driver who rarely shows up at the factory.

Even if my amateur infiltration failed, it would be better than identifying myself as a detective. I entered a narrow, dirty alley where the factory walls nearly touched each other.

I bent my knees slightly and jumped up. The wall was lower than the factory I had broken into last time, so I could grab the edge of the wall in one go without needing to grip the bricks.

Though it was lunchtime, I pulled myself up with just one arm, keeping only one eye visible as I surveyed the factory interior. Only after confirming no one was passing outside did I properly pull myself over.

From inside the factory came the faint sound of murmuring, but there was no one in the factory grounds. I wasn’t sure if the suspect had already been here or was still inside, but it would be better to wait outside.

I walked a bit faster when entering the parking lot, but once inside, I strolled at a leisurely pace.

Among the delivery trucks packed in the parking lot, I chose one and pushed my body through a window without glass to look for a delivery list. A truck like this would definitely have one… Yes, there was a clipboard with papers attached.

The first page of the delivery list with the driver’s name was completely filled, suggesting this paper factory was running quite well. The second page had only a few delivery locations written down but no names.

If I wanted to pretend to be a truck driver, the second page would work. I folded the first page neatly and tucked it inside my clothes. It would be better to put it back when I left.

“What alias haven’t I used yet…? Ah, right.”

After writing down the alias John Manders, I checked the last delivery location.

The last place this driver visited was Versetti Printing and Binding, and the next place to go was Williams Processing Paper Factory. After memorizing this, I tossed the clipboard back into the car and put a cigarette in my mouth.

The smoke would be noticeable, but I didn’t mind if someone from the factory spotted me, and I didn’t mind just watching while smoking until everyone left without anyone noticing me.

Still, I seemed to be lucky today. After nearly finishing one cigarette and exhaling the acrid smoke, my eyes met with someone looking down from a second-floor window of the factory. I even raised my hand slightly to greet them.

After waiting a bit, a dwarf ran out from the factory and rushed toward me. Due to the heat-filled factory, an unpleasant smell of sweat wafted strongly.

“What’s this? Who are you? You’re not a factory worker, so why are you…?”

At those words, I tapped the delivery truck I was leaning against.

“That’s too much. I’ve been driving this thing for months, and you still don’t recognize me? I just delivered to Versetti, but no one was there, so I was just having a smoke.”

As I snapped back as if offended, the dwarf hesitated. He wiped his sweat again with the towel around his neck and blinked as if trying to remember my face. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to.

I didn’t wait for an answer. I just reached into the car to get the delivery list, handed it to him, and urged him on. I kept him off balance, not giving him time to think properly.

“Hurry up and load the goods. I’ll be late even if I leave right now. What, did something happen?”

Looking at the driver’s name on the delivery list, he spoke as if he suddenly remembered. People create false memories so easily when flustered.

“Ah, right. You’re John from Vermont, right? I… Hey, I never forget our factory colleagues, kid. Come in. There’s something we can’t talk about out here.”

As I pretended to know nothing, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the factory. If it was something that couldn’t be discussed outside, it must be about the dead factory owner.

Being a paper factory, I spat out the cigarette I had in my mouth before entering and even left my cigarette pack in a small basket. The dwarf didn’t suspect anything, as my act of familiarity seemed to work.

Led by his hand into the factory, I scanned the murmuring people inside. There didn’t seem to be a brown-haired, blue-eyed man like the kobold had mentioned. He might have already left.

“One of the truck drivers was just wandering around not knowing what was going on. Anyway, some weird gentleman came by earlier and said… the boss is dead. That crazy guy said he hanged the boss himself, you know? It was just on the radio news too. This is the only paper factory around here, and they said the dead person was a paper factory owner…”

I let out a hollow laugh at his words. Then I continued in a mocking voice. This would be fitting behavior for a young delivery driver.

“Good riddance, isn’t it? I heard from a senior that when there was a strike here, they brought in thugs and some people died.”

The dwarf who was listening to me raised his hand and slapped my back quite hard with his palm. Of course, I wouldn’t be pushed forward, but I deliberately stumbled forward once and didn’t forget to make a sound as if in pain.

“No matter what a bastard he was, how can you say that when someone’s been murdered? That guy even broke free from my grip and left. I wonder if he’s going to kill more people?”

Judging by how he just slapped my back, he was strong even for a dwarf, and the killer had broken free from his grip and left… He must be a professional. It would be better to ask Giuseppina.

Having come this far, I had no intention of just asking how he was doing and leaving. Now that he completely thought of me as a factory person, he wouldn’t be suspicious if I interrogated him like a police officer. We become free within trust.

“Was there anything else noticeable? Everyone else saw his face, but I don’t even know what he looks like. Ugh, I don’t want to run into someone like that on the street or in a bar.”

The dwarf, without a hint of suspicion at my made-up words, told me about the killer. Being able to blend in anywhere could be considered one of a detective’s virtues.

“So, he was a human in his thirties wearing a sharp suit, and yes! He was big. Almost 6 feet tall. Broad shoulders and a good build, with very precise movements. Brown hair and blue eyes, no beard. And… ah, right! He was even wearing a wedding ring. I wonder if his wife and kids know what he’s up to. Anyway, is that enough?”

I might as well stop paying that kobold and give a dollar each to the people here instead. Their information was more accurate than the kobold who had worked there for a long time.

Given his size and precise movements, he might be ex-military. He was married, a human male in his 30s. This was definitely enough to create a mental image.

“Oh, and! He seemed to have a cleanliness obsession. Even when entering the factory, he used a handkerchief to grab the doorknob, and he kept wearing white gloves. When his white gloves got dirty from grabbing the railing, he immediately took them off and put on new ones. With a guy like that, it shouldn’t be hard to recognize him.”

Now it was certain. These factory workers would be ten times more useful as informants than that kobold. With the added detail of his cleanliness obsession, it shouldn’t be difficult to find him when encountered on the street.

Now it was time to naturally end the conversation. I shifted the topic to something that would appropriately cut off the conversation.

“Did you report it? If what he said is true, a murderer came and went from here. So… ah, the cops will think we did something again.”

“That’s right. We have enough grudges to hold. So, we were discussing what to do. For now, we decided to keep quiet, so do the same. And, don’t you check the time? If you just came from driving, you probably haven’t eaten properly. Go get some lunch. When you come back, the guys will have loaded everything. Oh, and don’t do anything today that’ll get you in trouble with the cops. Got it?”

He was quite a decent dwarf, person to person. Though I was someone who found it difficult to get close to them. I nodded with just one corner of my mouth raised, then opened the factory door and left.

I briefly returned to the parking lot, used the clip on the board to cover the part where I had written the alias John Manders, and inserted the first page I had kept in my pocket on top so it wouldn’t be visible unless examined closely.

After throwing the delivery list back through the original driver’s car window, I left the factory. While I had climbed over the wall like a thief to get in, when leaving I could even greet the slightly confused security guard before going out.

Whether to contact Giuseppina or do something else, I needed to return home, so I walked straight back.

It would be better if Yehoel could find something just by looking at the scene, but people with cleanliness obsessions rarely leave such traces. Though this guy was quite careless.

As soon as I got home, I organized the characteristics of the perpetrator, and the more I looked, the more familiar it seemed.

I thought there was a similar comrade in the Argonne Invincibles. I went through it again. A 6-foot tall build, blue eyes, recently married… Yes, there definitely was one. I couldn’t remember the name, but I could vaguely recall the nickname.

I called the veterans’ hall instead of Giuseppina. After the phone rang a couple of times and connected, I immediately spoke.

“Put The Hanger on. I have something urgent to ask.”

From the voice, it seemed The Hanger himself had answered. A sigh came first, followed by his characteristically gruff voice.

“What’s so urgent that you don’t even say your name? They don’t call you ‘Mongrel’ for nothing. Anyway, what’s up? I don’t think you need us for your work.”

“Brown hair, blue eyes, 30s, human, 6 feet tall, recently married. Also has a cleanliness obsession. What was his name and nickname? Was it a rat or a bird? Anyway, I think there was someone with such a nickname.”

Despite not exchanging pleasantries and just getting straight to the point, The Hanger quickly recalled the answer. This was why The Hanger played the role of our leader.

“The Rat-Catcher, Franklin Reese. Why? Did something happen to him? I saw at the poet’s funeral that his wife is pregnant. He’s a guy who can handle things well.”

The Rat-Catcher… Right, in the trenches, he couldn’t maintain his cleanliness obsession, but he absolutely couldn’t stand rats crawling around the trenches soaked in corpse water, so he kept catching them, earning that nickname.

Should I tell the truth, or should I hide it? It would be better to tell the truth.

If I cooperated with The Hanger, I could at least try to persuade the guy. He was a comrade, so he deserved one chance. Just one chance.

“The guy who hanged the paper factory owner at the Divine State Hotel this time, I think it’s The Rat-Catcher. An angel I know asked me to help with the case, and the description matches him exactly. Can you call him to the hall?”

The Hanger swallowed. We all knew how dangerous we were. The Hanger, who used to be quite frail, could now fight and defeat an ogre with his bare hands. So, we had to handle this.

“I know his home number, so I’ll call first. Come to the hall right away. To others or that angel…”

“Just tell them the basics. If we can end it among ourselves, let’s do that.”

The real problem wasn’t that he was playing hero or vigilante by killing criminals. The problem was that he was doing it too openly and too sloppily.

What kind of murderer kills someone and then runs to people who knew the victim shouting “I killed him!” If his wife was pregnant, he should just stay quietly by her side.

I also needed to find out his motive. If he really wanted to play the role of a justice crusader, I could teach him the techniques. If he did it for money, I could turn a blind eye. If it was for another reason, I didn’t even want to think about it.

If he was doing this vigilante nonsense, he would kill one or two and stop. If he was doing contract killings for money, he might stop when the child was born, but if not, it would continue.

Which was it? Was I sad that a comrade was falling into corruption, or was I just disliking that another leak in our secrets was forming? Obviously the latter. I would say it was the latter.

I had come too far to scream about terrible corruption or whatever after seeing someone kill a person. So, I wouldn’t care. Maybe, if I could.

I took off the clothes I had worn to look like a worker, changed back into my usual detective attire, and packed my duffel bag.

If you don’t know about the Argonne Invincibles, you can’t prepare. And if you can’t prepare, you can’t face them—this applied to us as well. This cursed ritual truly gave tremendous vitality.

I immediately drove to the hall. If there was some reason, The Rat-Catcher would already be there, and if not, The Hanger would open the door with a troubled expression.

I knocked on the door of the veterans’ hall building that looked like a church. Only the peephole opened, and The Hanger, with a troubled expression, looked into my eyes and asked the password.

“Have you been baptized with the blood of the lamb? Are you purified?”

“No, that was definitely not a lamb.”

The door opened immediately, and The Hanger, looking uncomfortable at the duffel bag I was carrying, let me in. With a worried expression, he spoke almost like a murmur.

“I called his home, and his wife answered. She said her husband left on a business trip yesterday and is scheduled to return next week. Is he planning some kind of murder trip?”

“No, judging by what he’s done, he’s closer to a vigilante. From the records I got from a police officer I know, he was just an ordinary empty-headed factory owner, but he’s acting like those crazy masked men. For now, if nothing else happens…”

The Hanger, unable to contain his inner turmoil, interrupted me. He grabbed my shoulder and spoke. In his eyes, it was as if the Argonne Forest was reflected once again.

“If he does something else, are you going to hunt down a comrade? That’s not right. Think positively…”

I cut off his words in return. Being consumed by anxiety only creates stopgap measures. Perhaps because he had made decisions ahead of everyone else in the Argonne Forest, he had become a man trembling with anxiety.

“I will. People who kill one criminal and have a beer party in the evening are called vigilantes, but those who kill two people in the same way in one day are called serial killers. And The Rat-Catcher is a guy who went around boasting to the factory workers under that factory owner that he killed someone. How long do you think it will take for him to get caught? Answer me!”

The Hanger was a reasonable person. Though he trembled at my outburst, he didn’t dodge the question.

“Within a month. But nothing happened yesterday. If he hasn’t been killing since the day he left, there’s a real possibility it’s just vigilante stuff. Right now, somewhere, he might be breathing heavily…”

What resolved our argument was another breaking news report on the radio. Yes, damn it. No matter how you looked at it, breaking news could never be seen in a good light.

“Breaking news has just come into our studio. Police report that the killer known as ‘The Hanger of New York’ has committed his tenth murder. A second victim in Manhattan’s wealthy district was found hanged in his home, and angel police are reportedly controlling the area. It’s said that all seven servants in the house were also brutally murdered…”

I picked up the duffel bag I had briefly set down during our conversation. This time, The Hanger didn’t stop me either. The one chance we were going to give had just become a bounced check.

The Rat-Catcher had just died. It wasn’t a death to celebrate like the poet’s death. The Rat-Catcher was dead, and only The Hanger of New York remained. He had to be killed. It wasn’t murder. It was closer to slaughtering a beast.