Chapter 18: Losses

Chapter Eighteen
Losses

Inside an office at Rice Police Station, Klein met Jurgen Cooper. This young senior solicitor was still dressed extremely formally, as though he were ready at any moment to attend a banquet of high society.

His black double-breasted frock coat, stiff-collared white shirt, enormous bow tie, and polished leather boots made the policemen treat him very politely.

Holding his half-top silk hat, Jurgen looked at Klein with blue eyes and said, “The procedures are complete. Go pay ten pounds in bail, and you may leave.”

“Thank you.”

Klein did not say more. He followed the good-looking yet rather stiff Solicitor Jurgen to the police station’s finance office nearby, took out his wallet, and drew two five-pound notes.

At this moment, he was especially glad that he had carried all his cash—ninety-five pounds—on him. Otherwise, he might have had to borrow from his good neighbor Jurgen.

Of course, the most serious issue was this: if the cash had been left at home, after the police searched the scene, Klein had little confidence in how much of it would remain. Yet he also could not place it above the gray fog, because at the end, he might have needed to rely on bribery to get himself out.

Many current newspapers and magazines kept slandering the police, claiming that they lacked oversight, acted roughly, were corrupt as a rule, extorted frequently, and were vicious and brutal. Klein did not dare believe all of it, but he did not dare disbelieve all of it either. After all, the money on Meursault’s body had very likely benefited the people of this police station.

After paying bail, Klein followed Jurgen out of the police station and shivered from the moist cold wind blowing into his face.

“After the case is closed, your bail will be returned to you. Of course, you cannot expect them to take the initiative to notify you. Mm… In one week, if no one comes to bring you back to the police station, you may come here to request your bail. In theory, you can also receive corresponding compensation at the end—from the other party’s estate, if there is any,” Jurgen said as he walked toward a carriage parked nearby.

The continuous drizzle of daytime had finally stopped by night, but the crimson moon was still concealed by dark clouds. Along the street, only gas lamps gave off light.

“All right.”

Klein had almost believed that the ten pounds would never return.

He could not help calculating Ian’s commission. The payment was five pounds, but many pieces of furniture and tea sets in the room had been broken. He had to purchase new ones or find someone to repair them. Adding the consumed materials, carriage expenses, and the clothing-repair costs to come, it seemed, probably, possibly, that he would lose money…

If that ten-pound bail cannot be recovered, the loss will be huge! Mm… Meursault’s Beyonder characteristic should be worth quite a bit of money…

Klein boarded the carriage, his brows slightly furrowed.

He had always believed that a private detective who used his own residence as an office would at most have no commissions. He had not expected losses…

Klein turned his head toward Solicitor Jurgen, who sat properly beside him, and sincerely said, “Thank you. Thank you for taking the initiative to bail me out. How much should I pay you for this?”

Jurgen nodded very formally.

“This one is free.”

“I heard about your matter from Sergeant Fassin. I believe we will have many opportunities to cooperate in the future.”

Many opportunities to cooperate in the future…

Klein laughed despite himself.

“Solicitor Jurgen, I feel as though you are cursing me.”

Jurgen shook his head gravely.

“No. That is not what I meant. It is very normal for a private detective to have a fixed collaborating solicitor.”

Sir, you really have no sense of humor… even though you look young…

After silently lampooning twice, Klein smiled.

“Just as it happens, I wanted to find a solicitor to help me draft an investment contract.”

“An investment contract?”

Jurgen’s tone was slightly astonished.

“I know it is not a private detective’s side business, but I happened to encounter a good investment opportunity,” Klein briefly explained. “Solicitor Jurgen, according to your fee standards, how much would such a contract cost?”

“It is usually determined by the contract’s total amount and level of difficulty,” Jurgen answered rigorously.

“The total amount is one hundred pounds. The clauses I require include…”

Klein described his needs in detail, including preemptive subscription rights, veto rights, and so on.

Jurgen thought seriously for several minutes before saying, “Two pounds. I will give it to you Monday morning.”

“All right.”

Klein did not say more on that matter. Instead, he asked Jurgen what information he had learned about tonight’s case.

All the way back to Minsk Street, Klein took the initiative to pay the three-soli rental carriage fare. Then he bade farewell to the young but serious solicitor and walked toward the house he rented.

Opening the door and stepping inside, he saw the scene of complete disorder and felt a wave of exhaustion.

His private detective career had actually begun with a loss.

Just as Klein took off his coat and buried himself in cleaning up the aftermath, the doorbell was suddenly pulled.

He opened the door in confusion and saw Julian, the maid next door, dressed in black and white.

“Hello, Mr. Moriarty. Mr. and Madam Sammer would like to invite you over to talk about what happened earlier,” Julian said, visibly a little afraid.

Here it comes… The matter of compensation…

Klein revealed a smile.

“All right.”

He changed into an intact, clean coat and followed the maid next door, where Luke Sammer and his wife, Stelyn Sammer, sat waiting on the sofa in the living room.

Luke, burly and wearing two attractive mustaches, stood and extended his hand, laughing softly.

“Good evening, Mr. Moriarty. I only just learned that you are a private detective. As a neighbor, I have truly failed.”

“No. It is my own issue, because I do not yet know whether I am suited for this industry. Perhaps at some point I will go find other work.”

Klein shook the man’s hand.

“I am very sorry about what happened tonight. I will make compensation.”

“It was only an accident,” Luke comforted.

Stelyn, with golden hair, blue eyes, and lovely features, asked curiously, “Did you truly beat an intruder to death? Heh, I know you want black tea, correct?”

Klein nodded.

“Perhaps he was only a thief.”

He did not say that the matter originated from a commission he had accepted, lest the Sammers feel a grudge in their hearts.

Since the police did not tell them, there is no need for me to add unnecessary details…

Klein silently added.

Luke Sammer smiled.

“You must have outstanding fighting skill. As a neighbor, I feel very safe. Perhaps in the future, we will also have matters to commission you for.”

Klein laughed self-mockingly, half true and half false.

“In truth, I was almost killed.”

“No matter what, in the end, the victor was you,” Luke said.

After chatting around this topic for a while, Stelyn lifted a white porcelain teacup inlaid with gold, took a sip, and said, “I am rather curious. How many commissions can a private detective receive in a week, and how much income do they bring?”

Klein did not conceal anything. He chuckled.

“That depends on the situation. It is like farmland—sometimes there is a good harvest, and sometimes a poor one. Last week, my income was five pounds five soli, but with last night’s matter, perhaps I will have losses instead.”

Stelyn seemed not to hear the latter half of his sentence and instead continued on her own.

“If you can maintain this income, five pounds a week will allow you to have a fairly decent life in Backlund, in Cherwood Borough. There would be no need to rent out rooms. You could employ a maid for miscellaneous work, listen to a concert once every other week or watch a play or opera, play tennis or squash every week, attend a reading salon, and go to a good restaurant once… Of course, if you are already preparing for marriage, you must save a little. A weekly salary of five pounds is still somewhat short of true respectability.”

“Then how much weekly salary is needed for true respectability?” Klein asked cooperatively.

“Seven pounds. At least seven pounds.”

Stelyn raised her chin slightly.

Klein then looked toward Luke and, in the manner of casual conversation, said, “I heard from your wife that you work at Cowim Company. May I ask what your main business is?”

“Smokeless coal and charcoal,” Luke answered with a smile.

No wonder you can become a member of the Coal Smoke Reduction Association…

After a brief consideration, Klein said, “In Backlund, how much salary would someone at manager level receive? I rarely see newspapers and magazines mention this.”

“Haha. That depends on the industry and company, as well as the specific position. The first manager of Backlund Bank receives an annual salary of five thousand pounds, while with bonuses included, mine is only between four hundred thirty and four hundred forty pounds,” Luke said casually.

So around eight pounds a week… no wonder…

Before Klein could speak, Stelyn Sammer complained, “In truth, we could live in the suburbs. Then I would have a garden and a lawn, while Luke would have a stable, and he could buy the brand-new carriage and two young horses he has long wanted. But that would waste far too much time on his commute, and time is even more precious.”

A new carriage with horses costs about one hundred pounds… A weekly salary of eight pounds truly is impressive. Unfortunately, not long after I got my raise, I…

Klein could only respond with a smile.

After a few more pleasantries, he bade them farewell and left. In his heart, he silently sighed:

Mr. and Madam Sammer are still good people at heart. If it were a more unkind landlord, after what happened tonight, they would have already deducted fees, returned my rent, and told me to get out…

Returning home, Klein began working. He did not hurry above the gray fog to examine the earlier warmth on the back of his hand, nor did he rush to conduct divination, because he was worried that the military’s special department might still be watching him in secret.

He decided that tomorrow night he would go to the bar Ian had described and purchase guns, to guard against certain people taking desperate risks and launching another attack.

Klein even planned to use the chance to find channels for hiring a bodyguard—a Beyonder bodyguard, a powerful Beyonder bodyguard. First, this would let him come into contact with Beyonder circles without exposing himself. Second, he was afraid that later attackers found by the ambassador might possess the ability to hide from the military’s special department.

Although for a Sequence 8 Beyonder, a secret “vengeful evil spirit,” to need a bodyguard was a somewhat comical matter, to Klein, safety was most important.

If the price is too expensive, I will blow the copper whistle and look for Mr. Azik. Of course, that may be even more dangerous… I do not understand Sealed Artifact 0-08 well enough…

While tidying the room, Klein muttered soundlessly.

…

After the purification ritual ended, the man wearing a white hard-shell mask said to Xio and Fors, “No matter what evil spirit it was, I have already driven it away. Heh, if it had reached the level of a wraith and I was unable to drive it out, it would have reacted just now. But there was none.”

As he spoke, he poured the water droplets condensed on the Sun emblem into a small metal bottle and handed it to Xio.

“Sprinkle it in your room after you return. It will eliminate all remaining residue.”

“Thank you.”

Xio paid the money with heartache, but she felt much more at ease.

She and Fors had just returned to the living room when an attendant delivered a note:

“Miss Arbiter who purchased the Sheriff formula, would you be willing to chat in the study? I may have something you need.”