Ch.7Request Log #002 – Giving and Receiving Help (2)

Yehoel returned around that time. After handing me a shrimp sandwich he’d bought from a café near the police station, he briefly went into the interrogation room and came back out.

“He’s become as docile as those women from Iris. Even his lawyer must be confused.”

Is he frequenting red-light districts now? Iris was an establishment right in the middle of the red-light district. Though it was decorated with cherry blossoms in a rather unpleasantly exotic way, the women there were generally well-behaved.

We stupidly harbored fantasies about such women. We didn’t realize they were merely cargo imported and shipped to the harbor to sell illusions.

“Confused? He might look like a nobody, but he’s already been paid, so he’s probably happy he doesn’t have to work.”

I unwrapped the yellowish paper packaging and took a bite of the sandwich. It tasted quite good. The shrimp meat wasn’t bad, and it was filled with butter and spices like when cooking flavorless lobster, making it a pleasant experience.

“Not the kind of taste that makes you want to harm others though.”

Yehoel burst into laughter as if my comment was absurd.

“That’s because you’re the kind of guy who’d hurt others for money 24/7. If something you ate actually put you in the mood to harm others, that would be quite remarkable.”

“That’s rich coming from an angel who visits me whenever he wants to pass off annoying work for money 24/7.”

These were harmless jokes. I was quite close with Yehoel. A detective’s only friends were fallen angels and informants.

“If you’ve got nothing to do, I could introduce you to more work, or…”

I cut myself off.

“Just call me when you’re off duty.”

I didn’t enjoy sitting in a place full of angels for too long. I pulled my hat down, left the police station, and got into my car.

The streets approaching noon were quite peaceful. Police officers with wings spread flew around, throwing vagrants and drunks sprawled on the streets into police cars, while the sky above the factory district was hazy.

This scenery needed detectives. Finding family members who had gone missing due to alcohol was one of my important duties, and it was also an easy job that only required some legwork at nearby police stations.

But right now, I didn’t even have that kind of work. I returned to my apartment. As I was about to take the elevator up, an old goblin waved her hands and ran toward me from a distance.

“708! 708! Wait a moment!”

It was the landlady. I hadn’t seen her much since I put in and took out some furniture to use the apartment as an office. I stepped out of the elevator briefly.

“What is it?”

She ran up and deliberately made a show of catching her breath, holding onto the stair railing. Seeing how this normally spry woman was acting tired, she probably had another favor to ask.

“So, didn’t you say you do detective work or fixer work from home? Have you closed shop these days?”

Even if I close for just a few days, customers and people who only know my name think I’ve quit the business. I shook my head.

“I’m taking a break because I had a job that paid well. What do you need?”

“Oh my, I was worried I’d have to find someone else if you’d quit… Can you take on one job?”

I couldn’t really refuse the landlady. She was only a good landlord to people who were favorable to her.

“What kind of job? You know my rates, and 20 dollars a day isn’t pocket change, so unless it’s something important, you might be better off finding someone else.”

I was someone who did work for people with money, not interested in charity. She lifted her head as if she had never been out of breath.

“If you own an apartment building like this, enough money comes in to afford a detective. Anyway, did you know there was a burglary in the apartment a few days ago?”

She switches to informal speech when bragging about herself, then back to formal speech when she has a favor to ask.

And there was a burglary here? It couldn’t have been my place. I didn’t think anything had gone missing from my home in the past few days.

Damn, I should check properly when I get inside. I didn’t know because I’d been drinking myself to sleep almost every night, hoping my homing instinct would get me back home.

“I had no idea. So, which places were hit?”

“How can a detective be so unobservant… Hmm, three apartments with old locks were burglarized. My place was one of them, and the police came by a couple days ago.”

The police were always slow with news. They claimed it was due to procedures, but watching Yehoel, I doubted that was the only reason.

“Did they catch the culprit? If they only took valuable items, you must have lost some precious things.”

She knew I was implicitly calling her a miser, but she didn’t seem to care much.

“That’s why I’m hiring you! Look into it for me. Find out if they caught the culprit and when I can get my belongings back! They took a ring I was going to pass down to my granddaughter—I need that back!”

Her cracked voice rang out fiercely. She seemed quite dissatisfied with the police, but a goblin with no connections to the police would probably just be told the case was under investigation if she went there herself.

Yehoel and I typically helped each other in this way. I handled uncomfortable matters for him, and he served as my informant on the police side. Our collaboration was quite successful.

“I’ll look into it and try to recover the ring if possible. Just the ring?”

“If you can find everything, that would be great. But at least get the ring back! My granddaughter loved that ring so much.”

That was just for show. Despite what she said, I wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about the goings-on in this apartment building, but I had never seen any family visiting her.

“Oh, and if you have time, please check the locks too. I changed the door locks to prevent another break-in, but they just tossed me the locks without installing them!”

Though she was a nagging old woman, she wasn’t a particularly bad landlord. Changing locks wouldn’t take long, so I might as well help her out.

Am I feeling sorry for this goblin who seems like she’ll die clutching her money? I won’t deny it. I was quite a nice person when I wasn’t working. But I was always working.

This was why detectives shouldn’t make deductions. Since the client’s business wasn’t my own, deductions wouldn’t lead to good results.

The culprit was almost certainly the granddaughter the old goblin was singing praises about. She might have already sold the ring.

I briefly headed up to the top floor, to the landlady’s apartment that had an extra iron door installed to block direct access from the stairwell. It was as desolate as my own place.

Should I pity the landlady who lives in such a desolate place despite having a granddaughter, or should I pity myself for living so desolately that I need to compare myself to an old goblin?

There wasn’t much conversation while I installed the lock. It was just cheap sympathy; I had no intention of pretending to be mother and son with this goblin. The very thought was nauseating.

“There are some decent young people among detectives! Anyway, if you find the ring, I won’t charge you rent this month. The values are similar, right?”

“If I can handle it in a day, sure. Anyway.”

I got back into the elevator and entered my apartment. I picked up the phone and called the police station to connect with Yehoel.

“Officer Yehoel? This is Michael Husband, one of the New York Police civilian cooperation contractors.”

Sometimes connections got mixed up, so proper introductions were necessary. There were as many pure angels as there were fallen ones.

When introducing myself to the police, I had to avoid using the word “detective.” Police hiring private detectives was illegal under federal law, not just state law.

Fortunately, Yehoel seemed to have answered this time. His distinctively smooth voice came through with some static.

“Always so formal. What’s up? I doubt you’re already calling because you need help…”

“Actually, I am calling because I need help. You know my address, right?”

“I fly there every day, so why wouldn’t I know it? What’s going on?”

“I heard there was a theft report at this address a few days ago. Can you check the records for me? Whether they caught the culprit, and if so, what happened to the stolen goods. I got a request to look into it.”

Yehoel briefly got up and said something to another angel, and the sound of pages turning came faintly through the static on the phone.

“There is a record of the report. We flew right over, but it seems they didn’t find anything. Why? Oh, it says the granddaughter visited that day… but the landlady defended her, saying it wasn’t her. It’s obviously her, just looking at this.”

She’s blinded by affection. The only person who could have entered was the granddaughter, but she insists it wasn’t her, and since she doesn’t know who did it, she calls a detective to find out.

Still, I just needed to find what was taken. I needed to see what information I could get from the police.

“Do you have any information on this granddaughter? Does she have a criminal record? Tell me where I can find her.”

After the sound of more records being searched, Yehoel’s voice returned.

“Suzie Watkins. She’s been caught hanging around with some bad kids a few times, but your landlady bailed her out each time. What kind of family does this? If it were me, I’d have cut ties.”

After getting out on bail once or twice, the third offense becomes lighter. I let out a hollow laugh.

If the kid doesn’t have major issues, then the parents are probably terrible, like the parents of that beaten child I heard about at the police station. And if the parents try to act somewhat decent, then the kids are the problem.

The ideal family was born in the radio, lived in the radio, and died in the radio. Looking for such a thing in New York was foolish.

“Have you ever seen someone cut ties after spending money on bail? Just tell me where I can find those bad kids. Have they been involved in any gun incidents?”

That would make things easier. If they threatened me with a gun, I could shoot them dead and claim self-defense. Especially if Yehoel was handling the case.

“No, not gun incidents. They were caught trying to rob a grocery store with pocket knives. And you know if gunshots are heard downtown, I’m the one who has to run my ass off, right?”

“We help each other out, so why are you being difficult? If I’ve helped you once, you should help me with this.”

A chuckle came from the other end of the receiver. Now some useful information started coming out.

“I should find a better detective than you. Fine, anyway… You know that neighborhood nearby where gangs and the mafia gather? They seem to be kids who do odd jobs there. You know I can’t help you there, right?”

Since Prohibition, the mafia had started bribing the police too. They commonly bought entire jurisdictions, making my exchange of favors with Yehoel seem laughable in comparison.

There were supposedly clean angels too, but there was no need to weigh personal conscience against one’s life. Everyone chooses life.

“I know. I have contacts there too, so I’ll handle it myself. Thanks for the help. Oh, I think I’ll have to go to Eden tomorrow.”

“That’s fine. If I don’t drink with you, I’ll have to drink with the captain, and who would want that?”

“Ah, I’d rather become bone dry.”

After exchanging a few more meaningless words, we hung up. This kind of banter was quite helpful in detective work. Leisure makes people thorough.

I put on the gloves I had worn when persuading the manslaughter suspect, and checked my gun again. Today, I probably wouldn’t be drinking. After pulling my hat down, I walked out.

The area around my apartment was one of the better neighborhoods in this vicinity.

Places that at least attempted to hide the bleakness of concrete buildings by planting a few trees weren’t that common around here. Once you left this area, even that greenery disappeared.

It wasn’t a good place to bring a car, so I walked. After walking for about 20 or 30 minutes, the atmosphere of the street began to change. It felt like I was entering a place I shouldn’t walk into.

Broken windows and the terrible smell of sewers and filth rising up. A street where even the smell of a corpse would be masked by this stench if someone died.

I entered a tobacco shop with iron bars over its windows. It sold things stronger than tobacco, but it was still called a tobacco shop.

“Welcome, welcome. What brand would you like? Looking at your solid build and sharp features, I should offer you chewing tobacco or Bull’s Eye.”

I showed him a full pack of cigarettes from my pocket and stated my business. The clerk at this shop seemed to change frequently.

“Tell the boss Husband is here. He’ll know me.”

I knew the owner of this tobacco shop. He used to be a mine manager, and I had once saved him when the squeezed miners finally went on strike and rushed in to kill the boss.

Is “saved” even the right word? I had just gotten my license and was working as a driver and odd-job man for a large detective agency, so all I did was drive the car he was in back to New York.

Anyway, the clerk went up the stairs briefly. Shortly after, the sound of two people’s footsteps came down. A kobold with dark blue fur that was starting to turn white at the ends came down with gleaming eyes.

He wore a dirty shirt and suspender pants, and still carried the long whip he had used since his days as a mine manager at his waist. No wonder the miners almost killed him for using such a thing.

“Ah, Michael! My good friend! *sniff* What brings you here! If you need money, I can help you as much as you need.”

Everyone in this city would become the kindest person in the world if they could be rewarded with money for a good attitude. The price of kindness varied for each person, but it was the same for everyone.

I took out a five-dollar bill from my newly thick wallet, tucked it into his pocket, and asked. Money first, questions second.

“Do you know a girl named Suzie or something who does odd jobs around here? Last name Watkins, apparently runs with her own little gang.”

He started thinking, twitching his rat-like snout and unkempt long beard. But the clerk spoke up first, indicating a height about as tall as a goblin with his hand.

“Isn’t she the girl who delivered cigarettes the week before last? I remember her because she delivered the strong stuff. A goblin about this tall.”

This clerk might be better as an informant than the boss. The boss finally remembered and hit his palm with his fist.

“Ah, yes. That was her. *sniff* That was Suzie. We decided not to use her for deliveries anymore. Why? Is it for work?”

“Why did you stop using her for deliveries? Did something happen?”

It was better to know as much information as possible. Ignoring available information could lead to trouble later.

“She diverted a delivery meant for those Italian guys, and it was really, *sniff* troublesome. Those hyena-heads tore this place apart, thinking I was the one who diverted it.”

I could guess why she stole. If she had been eyeing something she liked for a while, and then needed quick cash to pay for the drugs she stole, that would explain it.

The story fit together well. And I could see a way to get the ring back as the client requested.

Since the mafia was all about family, I could appeal to that family sentiment. Since she had a gang, I could suggest they would compensate for the theft, then extract just the landlady’s granddaughter.

The others weren’t my concern. If someone cared about them, they would hire someone to get them out. Whoever came would have a harder time than me.

“So, do you know where this gang hangs out?”

“Of course I do. *sniff* They smoke and hang out in an apartment about a block from here. *sniff* It gets so noisy at night I can’t sleep!”

Good. I knew everything I needed to know. I was somewhat looking forward to seeing what variables would complicate the job. No, that’s irony.