The owner swiftly turned around, then began walking down the hallway, her shoes click-clacking. Fukuzawa silently followed.
“There’s still time before the performance, so make sure to have a good look at the scene of the crime.”
While following Ms. Egawa, Fukuzawa asked, “Do you have any idea who made the death threat yet?”
Ms. Egawa stopped in her tracks and turned around.
“That isn’t your job. I’ve already alerted the police. Your job as bodyguard is to capture the culprit if anyone gets killed. In other words, you’re nothing more than security. The officers in uniform will be keeping watch and investigating. Gah, I can’t stand this. Someone sent us a death threat, and guess how many cops were sent over? Four. Just four. Ugh. I’m getting upset just thinking about it. They probably think this is a big joke; they seem so certain no one will get killed. If someone does end up murdered, then they’ll know the blood’s on their hands, mark my words.”
Fukuzawa didn’t even bat an eye, despite his confusion. The client who had introduced him to the theater said the owner was levelheaded and reliable in her work, but she seemed slightly different from what he had imagined. But that wasn’t a problem for Fukuzawa. He had no interest in commenting on how others did their jobs. He simply needed to do his job, just like the owner said.
“Could you tell me about the threat? Depending on what the enemy is after, that could change how I approach things.”
“Take a look at this.”
Ms. Egawa took out a printed sheet of paper. A few lines were written in a simple typographical style.
“Someone sent this to my office a few days ago. ‘An angel shall bring death, in the truest sense of the word, to the performer. —V.’ They wrote the date and time of the performance along with its title. ‘Angels’? ‘V’? This death threat is ridiculous. I’ll bet it’s one of the rival theaters trying to hurt the business.”
“You think so?”
A voice suddenly came out of nowhere, making Ms. Egawa jump.
“I happen to think it’s pretty well done. One of the actors is going to be killed? Personally, I can’t wait to see how this turns out, but I guess nothing really fazes you once you’re old. You’ve probably seen it all by now.”
“‘O-old’…?!” Ms. Egawa’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Fukuzawa, who is this child? This is no time to be bringing along uninvited guests.”
“My apologies. He’s…looking for a job. I heard from your people that you were short on staff, so I thought maybe you could give him an interview when this was all taken care of.”
“Well, we do need more workers year-round, but…” She narrowed her eyes and stared at Ranpo dubiously. “All right. Please send your résumé to the office in accordance with the rules, and we will examine it along with the other candidates.”
“Whaaat? There are other people who want to work here?” Ranpo seemed to be in a bad mood. “That’s not fair. There’s no way I’m going to be hired if you do that! Make up your mind now.”
“Excuse me?”
Fukuzawa sighed deep down inside his throat so that nobody else could hear.
I…had a feeling this was going to happen.
“Listen here, kid. Do you really think grown-ups want to hire a brat? Good manners are a must in the adult world, so you’d do best to keep that in mind,” said Ms. Egawa.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that one already.” Around that moment, Ranpo began looking unprecedently annoyed. “The ‘adult world’ makes absolutely no sense to me. Why can’t we just say how we really feel instead of hiding it? Take you for example. You don’t want to be a theater owner. You may have spent a lot of money on your clothes and shoes to intimidate the workers, but you barely take care of your nails, and you don’t wear any rings. Plus, you have calluses on your palms, although they’re fading. Your hands want to return to their former job. In addition, you don’t trust the police, your bodyguard, or anyone who works at the theater. If you did, you would’ve introduced this old guy here to the cops. But you didn’t because you want him to keep an eye on them for you, right? And vice versa. I mean, I don’t blame you, since someone’s life is at risk here, but why not just come clean from the get-go?”
“Wha—?” She reflexively hid her hands. “Nonsense. What a rude child.”
Her flustered expression made it clear to Fukuzawa as well. Ranpo must have hit the nail on the head.
“Want me to go on? The simple necklace you’re wearing is brand-new, but it wasn’t a gift. You bought it yourself. Also, you once pierced your ears, but the holes have started to close, showing me that it’s been a few years since you’ve had a relationship with—”
“That’s enough,” interrupted Fukuzawa in a hushed tone. “Ms. Egawa, how you really feel is of no importance to me. All I plan on doing is making sure nobody dies tonight. At any rate, would you mind if I asked some of your workers some questions?”
“Whatever. Just do your job!” barked Ms. Egawa, trying not to sound flustered. “I like what I do! Ugh! I’ve had enough of this. I seriously just can’t catch a break…”
She stomped off, quickly clicking her heels down the entrance hall as she left.
“The adult world is so bizarre. What made her so mad?” Ranpo muttered as he watched her walk away.
Fukuzawa took in a deep breath, paused, then exhaled. His expression was exhaustion itself. It was the face of someone who had found out why Ranpo couldn’t hold a job.