Chapter 9: The First Commission

Chapter Nine
The First Commission

Ding, ding, clang, clang.

The bell tugged by the rope kept shaking, sending its sound throughout the spacious yet relatively empty living room.

Klein, who had been sitting on the sofa reading newspapers and studying investment opportunities, stood. Wearing a white shirt and black waistcoat without a bow tie, he looked rather relaxed and domestic.

My first commission as a detective? But I cannot always sit at home waiting for work to come knocking… Mm. I should hang a message book by the door and pair it with an absorbent fountain pen. That way, clients can write down when they will visit again, and I can prepare in advance… But for a new detective with no reputation, that is basically the same as having no next time at all… Sigh. I can only trouble myself for now. Every morning, I will divine whether there will be a commission that day, and roughly what time it will arrive, then arrange things accordingly… Of course, this may cause me to miss commissions where the client is a powerful Beyonder. Mm. If I miss them, I miss them. That is most likely a good thing…

Thinking as he walked to the door, Klein did not need to look through the peephole. The images of the visitors outside naturally appeared in his mind.

One was an old lady wearing a black plush soft hat. Her back was slightly hunched; deep wrinkles covered her face, and her skin was dry and yellowed. Yet her dark dress was formal and appropriate, making her appear very neat.

The hair at her temples had turned completely white, but her blue eyes remained quite lively. At that moment, she was looking at the young man beside her, signaling for him to pull the doorbell again.

The young man was in his twenties and had eyes similar to the old lady’s. In the increasingly cold weather, he wore the black double-breasted frock coat popular among Backlund’s gentleman class, a half-top silk hat, and a bow tie as if he were attending a banquet. He seemed like someone who would not relax his demands upon himself at any moment or in any setting.

With the help of the Clown’s premonition, before the bell could shake again, Klein turned the handle, opened the door, and greeted them with a smile.

“Good morning, madam, sir. Today is a fine day. So far, I have already seen five minutes of sunlight.”

He spoke of the weather in a slightly exaggerated way. It was a topic of greeting that had been popular in Backlund for more than a century.

“Yes. Usually, it is always too shy, hiding behind fog and dark clouds and refusing to come out,” the old lady agreed with a nod.

The young man, meanwhile, asked, “Are you Detective Sherlock Moriarty?”

“Yes. What matter would you like to entrust to me? My apologies—please come in. We can talk by the sofa,” Klein said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the guest area.

“No, no need,” the old lady said in a slightly sharp voice. “I do not wish to waste even a little time. My poor Brody is still waiting for me to rescue him!”

“Him?”

Klein noticed the most important pronoun, and a bad premonition suddenly emerged.

The young man dressed very formally gave a confirming nod.

“Brody is a cat raised by my grandmother, Madam Doris. He went missing last night. I hope you can help us find him. We live at the end of this street. I am willing to pay five soli for this. Of course, if you can later prove that the time and effort you spent exceeded that range, I will compensate you further.”

Looking for a cat? They entrusted me because I live on the same street and it is convenient…

Klein felt that this was not quite the detective career he had imagined.

This makes me look like a clown… All right. I cannot reject the very first business that comes knocking. That is a Diviner’s point of view…

After pondering for several seconds, he said, “Could you describe the situation in detail?”

Before the young man could speak, the old lady Doris said, “Brody is a lovely and lively black cat. He is very healthy and has a beautiful pair of green eyes. He most likes boiled chicken breast. Goddess, he went out just like that last night. No, he must have lost his way. I placed lots of chicken breast in his bowl, but he was unwilling to return for even one look.”

…

The corners of Klein’s mouth lifted.

“I am very satisfied with your description, Madam Doris.

“I accept this commission. Good. We will go to your home now. I need to search for clues and discover traces. You should know very well that the core of deduction lies in details.”

Madam Doris did not ask for her grandson’s opinion. She nodded immediately.

“You are the most energetic detective I have ever seen. Deal!”

Klein put on his coat, wore his hat, took up his cane, and followed Madam Doris and her grandson out onto the street.

Unlike Tingen, the roads in many districts of Backlund had been rebuilt with cement or asphalt. Even during rainy weather, they would not become so muddy.

Taking advantage of the old lady briskly leading the way ahead, her grandson moved closer to Klein and lowered his voice.

“I hope you will do your utmost to find Brody.

“Ever since my grandfather and parents passed away one after another, he has become one of the pillars of my grandmother’s life.

“After Brody went missing, my grandmother’s mental state developed problems. She even began having auditory hallucinations. She keeps telling me that she hears poor Brody screaming.”

Klein nodded solemnly.

“I will do my best. By the way, I still do not know how to address you.”

“Jurgen. Jurgen Cooper. A senior solicitor,” the young man answered.

Very soon, they arrived at 58 Minsk Street and entered a house with a gloomy color tone.

“This is Brody’s bowl. This is his favorite box. He always sleeps in here,” Doris said, her wrinkled face filled with two emotions at once: worry and expectation.

Klein crouched and found several strands of black cat hair inside the box.

He stood again, holding the cat hair as he gripped his silver-inlaid cane.

His eyes deepened. Pretending to observe the surroundings, he silently recited the divination statement.

His hand quietly left the cane’s head, yet did not fully separate from it, making it impossible for Jurgen and Doris to notice that the cane was standing on its own.

Immediately afterward, the black, silver-inlaid cane tilted diagonally forward. Its fall was slow, and the angle was small.

Klein grasped the cane’s head again, looked in that direction, and carefully observed for more than ten seconds.

Then he began walking. He arrived before an old cupboard.

“Did you discover traces of Brody leaving?” Jurgen asked with concern. The old lady Doris was also waiting for an answer.

Klein did not reply. He half crouched, pulled open the door at the lowest level of the cupboard.

Awoo!

A black cat shot out from within. Its tail raised high, it ran toward its bowl.

“Brody… When did you crawl into the cupboard? How did you get trapped inside?”

Madam Doris shouted in surprise and confusion.

Jurgen turned his head in shock and looked at Klein.

“How did you know it was in the cupboard?”

Klein smiled and answered in a low voice, “That is deduction.”

…

Having gained the friendship of Madam Doris and Solicitor Jurgen, along with a reward of five soli, Klein returned through the gloomy daylight toward 15 Minsk Street, the house he had rented.

Before he even drew near, he saw a figure pacing before his door.

New business already?

Klein focused and saw that the visitor wore an old coat that did not fit his age and a round-topped hat. He was a boy of fifteen or sixteen.

Him?

Klein immediately recognized him as the older boy he had encountered on the steam underground the day he first arrived in Backlund—the boy who had been chased by others.

The maturity and calm he had shown back then had left a fairly deep impression on Klein.

What sort of matter would he entrust to me…

Muttering inwardly, Klein walked over and smiled.

“May I ask, are you here to see me?”

The older boy was startled. He hurriedly turned around. In his bright-red eyes, fear he could not conceal was visible.

After composing himself, he hesitated and asked, “Are you Detective Sherlock Moriarty?”

“Yes.”

Klein looked around.

“Whatever it is, let us go inside to discuss it.”

“All right.”

The older boy did not refuse.

Once inside, Klein did not remove his coat, only taking off his hat and setting down his cane.

He led the older boy to the reception area, pointed to the long sofa, and said, “Please sit. How should I address you? What matter would you like to entrust to me?”

“You can call me Ian.”

The older boy examined the surroundings. After several seconds of silence, he said, “Previously, I was employed by another detective, Mr. Zeriel Victor Lee. I helped him collect certain news and intelligence.”

Klein sat down and clasped his hands together.

“Your commission is related to your former employer?”

“Mm.”

Ian nodded solemnly.

“A few days ago, I suddenly discovered I was being followed—followed by people with bad intentions. So I thought of a way to shake them off. Uh… Mr. Moriarty, I believe you should have witnessed that scene. As soon as I saw you, I recognized you as the gentleman who looked at me several times on the underground that day.”

…

That observational ability is not much worse than a Spectator’s… Could he be the type naturally born with something special? Or is he a Beyonder?

Klein activated spirit vision and looked Ian over several times, but discovered nothing strange.

He nodded and answered frankly, “Your response left a deep impression on me.”

Ian did not dwell on that matter. He continued, “I suspect what happened to me is related to Mr. Zeriel. So I visited his residence and discovered that although it seemed normal, many of the hidden little mechanisms that hint at intrusion had been triggered.

“From that day onward, I never saw Mr. Zeriel again. I suspect something happened to him.

“I tried to call the police, but the number of days he has been missing has not yet reached the requirement. I tried asking other detectives I know for help, but they all refused me. Their reason was that they had just seen Mr. Zeriel at a gathering of their colleagues.

“That greatly surprised me, because I used the agreed method to contact Mr. Zeriel but received no response at all.

“I still insist on my judgment and intend to ask for help from a detective Mr. Zeriel does not know. Mm, that also means I do not know the person, so I did not know who to look for. I could only use the newspaper, and thus I found you, Mr. Sherlock Moriarty.”