On the day of the planned Coronation of King Lubin IV, the military was on high alert, and primarily concerned themselves with the safety of the King. Meanwhile, Henrietta and Rico monitored the Red Lion, as the significance of the day made it seem a probable occasion for a meeting. Henrietta watched from a distance through a rifle scope, while Rico patrolled the surrounding area on foot. The two of them remained in constant contact.
"Why exactly are we here?" Rico asked.
"I gave the Defence Minister my word that I would do my part," said Henrietta. "I have a duty to uphold."
"What duty? We're private investigators, not police or soldiers."
Henrietta took a deep breath. "What would you say if I told you that I never actually got us licensed as private investigators and we've been conducting business illegally this entire time?"
Rico groaned. "I'd say I should have expected as much."
"I may have signed a legally binding agreement to assist the military in exchange for a suspended sentence," Henrietta continued. "I figured you'd want to help me stay out of prison."
"Fine," Rico sighed. "But can't we switch places?"
"Not a chance," Henrietta replied.
"Why not?"
"Because paper covers rock."
"I already told you there's no way that paper could ever defeat a rock. It doesn't make any sense."
"I don't make the rules."
"But I'm the one doing all the work here," said Rico.
"Perhaps, but how good is your long-distance shooting?"
"It's getting better."
"But not good enough, and your trigger discipline is terrible," said Henrietta. "Tell me, Rico, do you happen to know the extent of the damage an armor-piercing round can deal to a human skull?"
"I can't say that I do."
"Then I suggest you stop complaining," said Henrietta. "Now, you do your job, and I'll do mine."
Rico waited a bit after opening time before he entered the pub. He swung open the door with theatrical flair and he confidently sauntered inside. His eyes, accentuated by black eyeliner, scanned the room with an air of intrigue, as if he were unraveling a captivating mystery.
Behind the counter was a dark-skinned woman with black hair in corkscrew curls. She was wearing an elegant black gothic dress that Rico suspected could probably conceal a plethora of weapons with the assistance of its gratuitous frills, buckles, laces, and ribbons. Furthermore, she was in the process of loading a high capacity magazine for an assault rifle she rested on the counter. She was clearly quite capable of defending herself, so Rico was cautious. The woman turned to face him, and he replied with an exaggerated bow. Her eyes widened, and she smiled.
"How may I help you?" she inquired cheerfully, with a slight Nigerian accent.
"I was hoping you could answer some questions for me," Rico replied, punctuating his sentence with a flourish of his outstretched hand, showing off his black nail polish.
"Perhaps," she responded, her eyes tracking Rico's extravagant gestures.
"What is your name?" Rico asked, twirling his finger in the air for dramatic effect.
"Alice Okoye. I'm the owner of this establishment."
"Splendid. Then you're just the person I'm looking for." Rico's arms spread wide, as if presenting Alice with a grand revelation.
"Do I know you?"
"Not yet." Rico inconspicuously hid a microphone under the counter, activating its recording and transmitting. "You have a sister named Hendrika, correct?" Rico leaned in closer, peering intently at Alice.
"That's right. Why?"
"Just checking. Where is she at this time?" Rico inquired with a hand on his hip and a raised eyebrow.
"She is elsewhere located and otherwise occupied," Alice replied. "The specifics are none of your business." She waved her hand dismissively.
"Fair enough. I don't want to be too intrusive." Rico's hands clasped together, and he gave a small, apologetic bow.
"If there's a point to all of this, get to it." Alice's tone grew more assertive.
"You know, the King's Coronation is today," said Rico, his arms extending outward dramatically.
"I'm aware." Alice's hand rested on her hip, and she tilted her head slightly, mirroring Rico's theatrical demeanor.
"You're not going to watch it?" Rico asked, placing a hand over his heart in feigned shock.
"I've never been much of a fan of royalty," Alice replied.
"Can't say I blame you." Rico shrugged with a dramatic flourish. "Pomp and circumstance doesn't exactly appeal to me."
"I somehow get the feeling that's not what you're here to talk about."
"How much do you know about Seraphim, or the Intergalactic Trading Corporation?" Rico asked, striking a contemplative pose with a finger on his chin.
"Not much. I try to focus on things that affect my life here on Earth."
"I suppose I can respect that," said Rico, gesturing grandly with his hand. "In that case, what could you tell me about Caoimhe McBride?"
"She assassinated the King, and for that she was executed."
"Considering that she was a frequent visitor here, I was hoping you could provide some more useful information." Rico's hands interlocked.
"Who are you?"
"You need not worry about that," Rico said, flicking his wrist dismissively. "I understand that she worked closely with Irish nationalist Dalziel O'Shaughnessy, and that he was also a regular here. Would you happen to have heard anything unusual, perhaps criminal or even terrorist in nature, that they may have planned?"
Alice dropped a bullet on the counter. She picked it up and loaded it into the magazine. "I wouldn't know anything about that. I have a business to run, and I can't be bothered to eavesdrop on every conversation I hear."
"I see. So I take it you wouldn't have much insight into their comrades Seán, Lochiel, and Kearny?"
"I encounter many people, and hear of many more. You wouldn't by chance know their full names, would you?"
"Unfortunately, I do not know at this time," said Rico, with an apologetic sweep of his hand.
"Then I'm afraid I can't help you."
"Such a shame. But that's fine." Rico's hands clasped together in gratitude. "You've still been more help than you realize."
"Splendid," Alice said, attaching the magazine to her gun and securing it in place. "Was there anything else you wanted to know?"
"Who are Susan and Devara?"
"Just some pesky adolescents who like to loiter around here. Not all that different from you."
"I'll be done soon enough. Does the name Lyra O'Reilly mean anything to you?"
"I can't say that it does."
"I see," said Rico. "Very well then."
"Will that be all?"
"Just one more thing." Rico scratched his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Who is Mia Donegal?"
"She's just a kid who visits sometimes. I think she's Irish. Possibly albino. I'm sorry I can't help more."
"That's all right," said Rico, with a dramatic sigh and a defeated slump of his shoulders. He called Henrietta for a brief conversation, in Italian, to confirm she heard everything, his free hand punctuating his words. He turned back to Alice. "I'll be going now."
With a final sweeping gesture, Rico bid his farewell and exited the Red Lion as Alice watched with a mix of amusement and bewilderment. Rico continued watching closely as he walked around the area. Meanwhile, Henrietta watched live coverage of the Coronation for entertainment. Lubin spared no expense for the ceremony and included plenty of exorbitant and absurdly gratuitous displays of wealth and power. As the ceremony concluded, Henrietta and Rico continued waiting. Contacting Henrietta, Rico inquired, "Why do I get the feeling this is all just a waste of time?"
"Because you lack patience," Henrietta replied.
"What exactly are we waiting for?"
"That remains to be seen."
"So you don't even know?"
"We're just monitoring for suspicious activity. We may not know what that could be, but we'll know when we see it."
"Wouldn't it be better if we attended the Coronation, then?" Rico asked. "If something were to happen, it would probably be there."
"The military has that covered, and everything went smoothly."
"So it's over, and we wasted our time watching this place while nothing happened?"
"Mia and Dalziel were in attendance without causing any trouble."
"So why are we even here?"
"In case something happened here," Henrietta replied. "Anyway, some people appear to be heading our way. Please confirm."
Rico observed a young albino girl, about eight years of age, skipping toward the Red Lion. She had long, flowing hair, dyed blood red. She wore a red dress and pink stockings, while twirling a black umbrella over her head, which was covered by a black beret.
"That's Mia," Rico said. "It must be, although if she's trying to be inconspicuous, she is most definitely failing spectacularly at that."
"Keep observing," said Henrietta, "but keep your distance. Dalziel O'Shaughnessy possibly spotted not far behind. Intelligence suggests that he is the new IRA Chief of Staff, so assume that he is armed and extremely dangerous."
Rico observed a young man approaching. Quite physically fit, lightly tanned skin, messy black hair, green eyes.
"Confirmed," said Rico. "I really hate when your conspiracy theories are right."
Upon entering the Red Lion, Mia and Dalziel were approached by Alice. Henrietta and Rico listened to their conversation through the hidden microphone.
"Someone came in earlier asking suspicious questions," said Alice.
"What kinds of suspicious questions?" Mia asked.
"They were looking for information about you. They were also asking about Dalziel, Caoimhe, Seán, Lochiel, Kearny, Susan, Devara, Seraphim, Hendrika, and me."
"This is concerning. What sort of information were they looking for?"
"Possible connections to terrorism."
"This is bad. What can you tell me about this person?"
"I didn't catch his name, unfortunately. He spoke with an Italian accent, and he had a phone conversation in Italian with an older woman. I don't know who it was or what their relation may be, nor do I know what they were talking about, as I don't speak Italian."
"Very interesting. But not very helpful."
"I'd say he was about twelve, maybe thirteen years old. However, he seemed unusually competent for his age, kind of like you. He was blond, and had blue eyes. He was dressed in all black, with black nails and eyeliner. I think he may have had some sort of injury to his left shoulder, based on some of his movements. He made oddly dramatic theatrical gestures, and he seemed like kind of a dick."
Susan and Devara arrived soon after. They immediately sensed that there was something concerning the others. Alice filled them in on the details.
"So basically, you don't really know anything about him," Susan remarked. "I'm not impressed."
"Very limited information is better than no information at all," Devara said. "Which reminds me, could everyone please place all electronic devices they have on them together on this table and make sure they're turned off?"
"Sure, but why?" asked Dalziel.
"Just as a precautionary measure, I'd like to scan the area for bugs."
"I keep this place sanitary," Alice said, mildly annoyed.
"I mean hidden recording devices."
"Oh. Good idea."
Moments later, Devara's voice could be heard saying, "Right there," before the signal was lost.
After a brief conversation, all except Alice and Mia exited through the back door. Mia appeared deeply worried, while Alice seemed to be trying to console her.
"We won't get anything like this," said Rico. "I'm moving in."
"Good call," said Henrietta. "Just be careful."
As Rico approached the Red Lion, Alice saw him through the window and directed Mia's attention to him. Mia, with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, walked out the front door and faced Rico on the sidewalk.
"Just for the record, who are you?" asked Rico.
"I'm Mia Donegal. Who the bloody hell are you?" Mia replied, her tone assertive, and her arms crossed defiantly.
"My name is Rico," he said with a graceful bow.
"That makes things easier," said Mia, her hands now resting on her hips. "Rico, leave us alone."
"What were you doing in there?" Rico asked, crossing his arms.
"None of your business. You don't want to get involved."
"Who were those people in there?" asked Rico.
"I already said you don't want to get involved," said Mia, her eyes narrowing with a hint of anger. "I don't want to hurt you if I haven't got to."
"I'd like to see you try," Rico replied, his arms now relaxed at his sides as he stared back at Mia, unshaken.
Mia's hand moved swiftly, drawing her gun and pointing it at Rico. However, Rico's reaction was anything but intimidated. He stood there, staring at her, unimpressed, for a few moments. Then, with a swift and flamboyant movement, Rico disarmed Mia, effortlessly taking the gun from her hand. He held it just out of her reach, examining it with a raised eyebrow.
"Hey!" Mia cried. "Give me my gun back!"
"Is this an antique?" Rico asked, his tone more curious than confrontational.
"It's mine! Give it back!" Mia demanded, trying to jump to reach the gun.
"Where'd you get it?"
"None of your business! It's not yours!" Mia protested, tears welling up in her eyes as she tried to regain control of the situation.
"It is now," Rico replied calmly, his hand steady with the gun still out of Mia's reach.
"No, it's not!" Mia's voice cracked with frustration. She stomped her feet and shook her fists, unable to retrieve the gun from Rico's grip. Tears streamed down her face as her emotions overflowed. "It's mine!"
"It's a nice gun," said Rico, raising the gun slightly to observe it more closely. "I like it. I think I'll keep it."
Mia's anger softened into a mix of confusion and desperation. She wiped away her tears, trying to regain composure but failing to do so entirely. She then lunged at Rico with a switchblade, but an olive-skinned adolescent boy, perhaps thirteen years old, ran into Mia, disarmed her, and pinned her to the ground. The boy was wearing a knit cap over his long brown hair. He turned to face Rico. His brown eyes stared with admiration.
Rico's eyes widened, startled by the turn of events. "Who are you?"
"Satori Tatsuyama. I was just in the neighborhood." Satori gave a smile.
"Thanks for your help," said Rico, his hands gesturing in gratitude, "but I had everything under control." He stared and blushed as his heart raced.
"Get off of me!" yelled Mia, her voice now filled with frustration and embarrassment.
Satori released Mia, but kept her knife. Alice walked outside.
"Everyone, break it up," said Alice.
"They took my gun and my knife," Mia said, her voice quivering. "I want them back. They have sentimental value."
Satori returned Mia's switchblade with a nonchalant flick of his wrist, his movements displaying a sense of cool efficiency.
"Thank you," she said, taking back her knife with a mix of relief and gratitude. "Now, my gun."
"No," said Rico. "I already told you I'm keeping it."
"Give it back!" Mia cried.
"Why should I?"
"Come on," said Satori. "She's just a kid. Let her have her gun back."
"I don't feel like it," Rico chuckled, playfully teasing Mia with the gun just out of her reach.
"Just do it," said Alice, her voice firm and commanding.
"Fine," Rico sighed, returning Mia's gun. "Whatever."
"Thank you," said Mia, her anger now replaced with a sense of relief. She took back her gun, holding it close to her chest like a cherished possession. She gleefully skipped around a bit before reentering the Red Lion with Alice.
Rico walked away, frustrated. He planned to meet up with Henrietta, but he soon realized that Satori was following him.
"What do you want?" Rico yelled, exasperated.
"I'm just observing," said Satori, his movements calm and composed.
"Observe someone else," Rico retorted.
"No," Satori replied simply.
"Why not?" Rico asked, expressing a mix of curiosity and annoyance.
"Because you seem like a potential menace to society," Satori stated matter-of-factly, his arms at his sides.
"You don't know me," Rico replied, his movements expressing a hint of defensiveness.
Rico initially found Satori to be a nuisance. However, Rico quickly became bored and decided to start talking to Satori. When it became late at night, Satori took Rico to the hotel he was staying in.
"Fancy," said Rico.
"All at taxpayer expense," replied Satori.
"What did you say?" Rico asked, unsure if he had heard Satori correctly.
"Never mind," said Satori, brushing off Rico's inquiry, his arms crossing nonchalantly. "So, do you have a family?"
"My father's a fugitive because he killed my mother eight years ago. I have an adoptive mother I live with, although I think of her more like an older sister, because that's how she behaves. What about you?"
"Plenty of family, none of importance. However, I do have a close friend named Kamui, and he's sort of like an older brother to me."
"It must be nice to have friends," Rico commented wistfully.
"If you'd like, you can stay here. I'd really like to teach you how to be more sociable."
"I'd like that. I just have to make sure it's okay first."
Rico called Henrietta. Satori left him alone so as not to be intrusive.
"I met a boy," said Rico.
"Is he cute?" Henrietta asked playfully, her voice full of warmth.
"Maybe," Rico answered nervously.
"Tell me about him."
"His name is Satori Tatsuyama."
There was a pause while Henrietta conducted an internet search. "One person by that name in the city."
"Of course you'd run a background check," said Rico.
"It's what I do," said Henrietta. "He has an outstanding warrant."
"For what?"
"He was arrested in Tokyo on a misdemeanor shoplifting charge and released on bail. He failed to appear in court and fled the country."
"That might not mean anything. You know how the Japanese government is."
"That's what's so strange. They wouldn't have let him get away so easily, even for something so minor. Unless they wanted him to get away and only arrested him to give him an alibi for a more serious crime."
"You're overthinking this."
"He was arrested the same day the last Emperor was assassinated."
"He mentioned a friend named Kamui, just like the new Emperor."
"Maybe the last Emperor's assassination was an inside job," said Henrietta.
"Or maybe you're just paranoid," said Rico.
"Always a possibility."
"May I stay with Satori?"
"If you really want to. Just be careful. There are a lot of dangerous people in this city."
"Of course I'll be careful. I'm always careful."
"Indeed you are."
"Hey, Satori!" Rico called out. "It's okay! I can stay!"
Satori returned and smiled. "Wonderful."
"I love you," said Henrietta. "Good night, Rico."
"I love you, too," said Rico. "Good night. I'll be sure to contact you regularly."
The following morning, Henrietta awoke in a daze, confused as to what she had been doing, and wondering where Rico was. Eventually, she remembered that Rico was staying with Satori. Henrietta called Rico, asking him to return home. He reluctantly complied, only to find that Henrietta was not there. Rico was annoyed that Henrietta had not informed him of any change in her plans. In his paranoia, he briefly panicked, fearing what may have happened to her. He called her to find out where she was and if she was fine. As it turned out, she had simply decided to visit Alice at the Red Lion for questioning and had forgotten to inform Rico. This frustrated him, but he agreed to meet her there. She was sitting at the bar, glaring at Alice.
"Why are you here?" Rico asked, his posture guarded and his arms slightly tense.
"I had a hunch," Henrietta replied, her eyes scanning the surroundings.
"And how did that turn out?" Rico's voice held a hint of sarcasm, and he raised an eyebrow skeptically.
"No meaningful information yet. Alice has been most uncooperative."
"What do you want to know?" asked Alice.
"What can you tell me about the recent attack at Windsor?"
"It was a horrible tragedy in which many people, including our glorious King, lost their lives."
"Everyone knows Lubin III was a monster. You don't have to pretend you liked him," Henrietta retorted, her fingers tapping impatiently on the counter. I'm a private investigator, contracted by the military but independent from them." She leaned in slightly. "I'll ask you again. What can you tell me about the attack?"
"The working theory the news media have been portraying is that the IRA is responsible."
"I already know that," Henrietta said with a hint of impatience, her hand waving dismissively.
"Then I guess I have nothing to contribute," Alice replied, her posture tense as she braced herself for further questioning. "Sorry I can't be a greater help. Also, if you're not going to order anything, please leave."
"Fine. Get me a glass of olive oil."
"That's not a beverage, and I will not serve it as such," Alice retorted, her arms crossed in disapproval.
"I thought you wanted my money," said Henrietta as she pulled out a wad of cash and slammed it on the counter.
"I'll see what I can do."
"So, why olive oil?" Rico asked Henrietta.
"There's a reason," said Henrietta. "That much I can guarantee. I just haven't figured out what it is yet."
Alice provided Henrietta with a glass of olive oil. Henrietta handed her the money she had out.
"Keep the change," said Henrietta. "Now, what can you tell me about Mia Donegal?"
"She's an eight year-old albino female human of Irish origin," said Alice. "She's a regular customer here, but I can't really tell you more about her."
"Can't or won't?"
"I don't divulge confidential information about customers. I'll leave it at that."
"I know you know more than that. If you don't want me telling the military everything I know about you, I suggest you cooperate."
"I don't have anything to hide."
"I know quite a bit about you. How much I know, you do not know."
"You can't prove a thing," Alice said nervously.
"Perhaps not. But from your body language, I get the feeling you don't want to take chances. I could have a tremendous amount of evidence, and you don't know who I may have shared my knowledge with. They may be ready to reveal everything to the military should anything happen to me."
"You're bluffing."
"Maybe I am," said Henrietta. "But maybe I'm not."
"I already told you all I know that's relevant to your investigation. Whatever you may know about me, understand that the past is the past. I do not wish to obstruct your investigation. However, I do have a basic sense of honor to uphold, and I will not reveal personal information about my customers."
"You know, there's no record of your existence before you moved to England."
"My sister and I came from Nigeria. A lot of people there and in many of the other impoverished colonies go through their lives without ever having any official documents."
"That may be true, but a person with the same name as your sister was on a terrorist watch list in Nigeria," said Henrietta. "Of course, that could be just another Hendrika Okoye."
"Must be."
"After all, she was reported dead."
"So you're clearly mistaken."
"But no body was ever found. She had a sibling whose body was also never found."
"That's a very interesting story, but I don't see how it has anything to do with me."
"Very well then," said Henrietta. "I suppose that will be all I need from you at this time. However, I would like to ask your sister some questions."
"I'll see if I can arrange that."
"Thank you."
"Hendrika!" yelled Alice. "This lady wants to ask you some questions!"
"Tell her to direct them to someone who gives a damn!" yelled Hendrika.
"She said to tell you—"
"I heard," said Henrietta. "Well, I can't force her to cooperate. I won't trouble you further on this matter. At least, not at this time."
"But why the olive oil?" asked Alice.
"Don't worry about it," said Henrietta.
"Seriously, why?" asked Rico.
"The question is not why but how."
"You're not making any sense," Rico said, his arms crossing with frustration.
"You see, you may not know this, but olive oil comes from olives."
"Will you now be taking your leave?" Alice asked.
"Not just yet."
"So, what are you waiting for?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
A short time later, a blond, pale-skinned preteen girl walked through the front door. She wore a white button-up blouse and blue jeans, along with precisely the sort of hat and sunglasses a celebrity totally oblivious to how easily recognizable they were might wear if they were trying to avoid attention.
"Hello," said Alice. "Nanette, is that you?"
"God damn it." Nanette groaned.
"So, you must be Malvern's daughter," said Henrietta. "I'm glad at least you could make it. I have that report for your father. Unfortunately, I must withhold some information as part of an ongoing criminal investigation. I hope he can understand."Henrietta presented Nanette with a file folder.
"I'm sure he'll understand," said Nanette. "Bye."
Nanette walked out, followed by Henrietta. Almost immediately after Henrietta departed, Alice called Mia.
"I told you not to call me unless it's important," said Mia. "Is it important?"
"Yes," replied Alice.
"But how important? Evangeline's parents found out the government isn't paying them to house me anymore, so they're mad at her, for some reason. Now is really not a good time."
"Potentially a matter of life and death. It can't wait."
"That does sound important. Fine. Proceed."
"Someone came here asking questions. Questions about you."
"Did you get a name?"
"Henrietta Adani. She is not a government employee, but she is apparently a private investigator serving as a consultant to the military. Expect her to approach you for questioning in the near future, and be prepared."