The Rolling Bootlegs (17 page)

“Aha… I bet I know what that is. It’s the syndicate’s black money.”

“Is it? Why are they taking it out? The group hasn’t sworn allegiance to anyone else, right?”

“It’s probably the other thing—bribes for the cops or something. What else would they carry out in the middle of the night, with three guys, real careful-like? It has to be money, doesn’t it?”

“I see. Isaac, you really are a genius!”

“Aren’t I? …In that case, there’s just one thing for us to do. We’ll take it now.”

“Why?”

“They’re transporting the cash today, you know. If we try to steal it tomorrow, the safe will be empty.”

“I get it! Isaac, you’re so smart!”

Quietly, the wheel of fortune began to roll down the spiral.

“Listen, if we take this back…you think they’ll actually give us money?”

“We’ve just got to believe ’em.”

“Yeah, but Dallas… You saw how easily they killed Scott. Once they get what they want from us, won’t they just ice us, too?”

“Forget about Scott. …Don’t worry. Those guys want this liquor. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“In that case, we’ll just hold a gun to it. We’ll tell ’em they won’t get it until after we get our money.”

“I see.”

They didn’t know that threat would fail to work on just one person: the all-important Szilard.

As the three men started off, a black shadow blocked their way. It was a tall man who wore a weird mask on his face. The strangest thing of all was that, on his head, he wore some kind of headgear with knife-like objects stuck to its front in a V.

“…Who’re you…?”

It was only natural that, even though he now had an indestructible body, Dallas looked taken aback at the sight.

“…For now, allow me to introduce myself as Professor Moriarty! Yes, I am Moriarty! …For unspecified reasons, I have returned alive from the depths of Reichenbach Falls.”

Apparently he really was a fan of the works of Conan Doyle. That said, Moriarty hadn’t spoken like that, and he certainly hadn’t worn anything as eccentric as that mask and helmet.

“Erm… As proof, this is honey I bought from Holmes, who kept bees.”

He took out the jar filled with yellow honey. It was the honey he’d been given as a souvenir a short while earlier.

“…Are you messing with us?”

“No-go? …Uh, all right, let’s say Jack the Ripper.”

“Cut the crap!”

“You sure are a tough crowd… Who would you prefer, then? Uncle Tom’s evil master? Or would you rather have the Wicked Witch from
The Wizard of Oz
? …Except I’m male, so…”

Both were popular musicals on Broadway. Since he knew so much about odd things like this, it was possible Isaac had been born into a fairly good family.

“Shaddup! We don’t have time to screw around with loonies!”

They drew their knives, intending to threaten the stranger with them. Right then, the attention of all three hatchet men was completely monopolized by the newcomer in front of them.

“What about with me, then?”

A voice spoke up from behind. Quickly, the men turned.

The instant they did, something was thrown at them.

“Waugh!”

When they hastily turned back the other way, Isaac hit them with the exact same thing.

“My eeeeeeyes…hah…ga-gah…gaaah…koff…”

They’d been showered with a powdered mixture of pepper and lime. It had only been a fist-sized amount, but that was enough to do considerable damage to the eyes and lungs of three people.
Parenthetically, because the pair had “borrowed” it from the dinner tables earlier, the amount of pepper had increased by quite a bit.

The coughing fit that ensued caused them to have rather a lot of trouble breathing. Although they’d gained indestructible bodies, they hadn’t been liberated from pain.

Unable to stand it, they drew deep breaths in spite of themselves. As a result, they again inhaled the powder that still hung in the air. They’d fallen into a barren cycle.

Dallas’s group didn’t even have the wherewithal to draw their weapons. All they could do was cover their mouths and throats and roll around.

Advantage won, Isaac and Miria grabbed the wooden crate and absconded.

In the end, neither group ever realized that the other party was the one they’d met earlier in the day.

Ennis ran. She was bewildered.

Szilard had given her an order: “In the unlikely event that those three drink the liquor, kill them.”

She’d been watching from a spot in the shadows about fifty yards away from the Gandor hideout, in the opposite direction from Isaac and Miria, but…

First their way had been barred by a tall shadow, and then, when a smaller shadow had circled around behind them, they were caught in a pincer attack. The next instant, Dallas and the others had abruptly seemed to be overcome by pain. The two shadows stole the crate from Dallas’s group, then bolted for the main street without a second’s pause.

“What’s going on…?”

Should she chase after the two who’d stolen the crate, or should she help Dallas’s group? Ennis hesitated for a moment, but, thinking that Dallas’s group wouldn’t die in any case, she decided to follow the crate.

She leaped over Dallas and the others, who were thrashing around on the ground, and made for the main street herself.

When she left the alley and looked around, although light still streamed from windows here and there, there were only a handful of people on the street. She didn’t see any that were walking together as a couple.

Ennis looked this way and that two or three times, then broke into a run again, heading for the nearest alley. There was a bit too much distance between anything else and the street she’d just left. If the pair was abnormally fast, or if they’d ducked into a nearby shop, she’d be out of luck, but she felt fairly safe as far as the latter was concerned: She couldn’t see any sign of a door having opened and closed.

Making a series of similar decisions, she ran from alley to alley.

Several minutes later, in the corner of a certain one, she found something strange.

They’d been tossed on a garbage heap, but they looked new—and expensive—for unwanted articles.

From the shape they were in, it hadn’t been that long since they’d been thrown away.

“A helmet and…a mask?”

A tuxedo jacket had been shrugged off and discarded beside them.

They were all far too familiar to Ennis. Come to think of it, the difference in the pair’s heights had been familiar as well.

“It can’t be…”

For a little while, Ennis was stunned by the conclusion she’d reached.

At that point, she temporarily broke off her pursuit.

“What in…? What the, what the,
what the hell is this
?!”

Berga raged at the destruction that spread out before him.

The Gandor brothers had gone straight home after their outing, and in the middle of the night, several policemen had shown up.

When they’d heard what had happened and come running, they’d found the corpses of the men who’d been their subordinates and comrades.

“……………………”

The oldest brother glowered silently at the horror.

“Who would…? Who did this…?”

The youngest brother’s habitual smile had vanished completely.

Berga roared with enough force to scatter the smell of blood and set the building trembling.

“I’ll
kill
’em… Who goddamn cares who they are?!
I’m gonna rip ’em apart!
”

He’d declared an intent to murder in front of several police officers, but no one took him to task for it.

As the sun rose, the town, with all makeup removed, exposed its face to the light.

Again, the day began bright and clear. The sky, which was rimed with an even stronger chill, had gone beyond crystal and now resembled transparent ice.

“That’s a problem…”

“A problem!”

Once again, Isaac and Miria were at their wits’ end.

“Who’d have thought it would be liquor…”

“Yes, it’s liquor!”

That crate they’d stolen the previous night. As they’d wondered what Mafia treasure it held, and whether its weight was the consequence of being jam-packed with Benjamins, their expectations had grown, and yet the result had been…this.

“Why would they have three guys carrying just two bottles of liquor, in the dead of night?”

“Maybe they just wanted to drink it at home and were taking it back with them?”

“Let’s not be pessimistic. We sacrificed the helmet, the mask, and the tuxedo to get this prize.”

In the end, he’d even discarded the tuxedo. Miria hadn’t been able to take off her dress, of course, but she’d changed into new clothes a little while ago, and the black dress was tucked away in her bag.

The two of them were currently dressed as a priest and a nun. Either way, they were bound to stand out in the middle of town.

“…That’s right, it must be high-grade liquor! I bet it’s a legendary liquor, the sort you can only get by defeating a dragon, the kind the gods drink!”

“That’s
amazing
!”

He wasn’t right, but he wasn’t far wrong.

“All right… What should we do with it?”

“Drink it?”

“Hmm…We could, but… Two bottles is a lot.”

“Sell it, then?”

“Do you think it would sell? We should probably get it looked at by a specialist first…”

Having gotten that far, Isaac seemed to hit on an idea.

“That’s it! Let’s give this to the Martillos, to thank them for that honey!”

“Oh, I see! Wow, I bet they’ll be thrilled! They said all they had there was honeyed liquor!”

“This is ‘a good thing’ for sure.”

“Yes! The dead children will be able to pass on!”

Making a variety of remarks of differing degrees of self-centeredness, the two turned their steps toward Alveare.

In the end, Ennis hadn’t returned to Szilard and the others. After thinking for a while, she’d decided to find those two and hear what they had to say, and she’d been looking for them ever since.

However, once you lost sight of someone in New York, finding them again was nearly impossible.

“If nothing changes soon, I’ll be… Master Szilard will…”

If she was much later in returning, Szilard might get suspicious and kill her. He’d be able to do it even if she was on the other side of the world.

When she gave up and started back home, she saw a priest and a nun in the distance.

Ah… Does God really exist? If he does, what would I need to do to get his help?

As she was thinking these things, she caught sight of the face of the priest up ahead.

His face was all too familiar.

If God really did exist and preside over all destinies…he was far too calculating…and cruel.

“Oh, good morning, Maiza.”

When it was just about noon, Firo stopped in at Alveare.

Even though they’d partied so much the night before, there wasn’t a trace of liquor or fatigue left on him.

“Good morning. You’ve made a new start today. What do you think?”

“It doesn’t feel real yet. …And actually, it technically starts tomorrow.”

He’d been given the day off today. They’d decided that, starting tomorrow, he’d be put in charge of a gambling den.

Firo had risen early and gone to introduce himself to the establishment’s employees. Then, with nothing in particular to do, he’d dropped in to have lunch here.

Just as he sat down to his meal…there was a noise at the entrance to the speakeasy—the door in the corridor that led to the honey shop.

At this time of day, all the liquor was hidden elsewhere, so there was no need to worry about a premises search. When Firo glanced at the opened door, he felt no tension whatsoever.

…But he hadn’t expected to see a priest and nun enter.

“Ah, there they are, that’s them. The good people.”

“It’s the good people!”

Words that didn’t match their appearances flew his way. Firo quickly recognized their countenances.

“Oh, uh… Isaac and…Miria?”

“Right on the money.”

“You’re right!”

“…I didn’t know you were a priest…”

“Huh? I’m not a priest. Why?”

“We’re not. Why?”

“……Huh?”

The pair looked truly perplexed, and Firo’s head began to ache a bit.

“Listen, we brought some liquor by today, as a sort of thank-you for yesterday. …Or, well, we’re not sure it’s liquor, but it’s definitely something good.”

“It’s a good thing!”

“What’s that supposed to me…uh?”

On seeing the crate they held out to him, Firo slowly stopped moving.

He’d seen that box before. When he saw its contents, he was sure of it.

It was the box that self-important old guy had had yesterday. And

She’d been hesitant to call out to them on the street, so she’d followed them instead.

Then Isaac and Miria, in their clerical robes, went into a certain honey shop.

She watched it for a while, but they showed no sign of coming out.

“What should I do…?”

Having made up her mind, Ennis was on the point of going in. Just then, though, she noticed a group coming toward her from the back of the shop, and she hastily put some distance between herself and the front of the building.

As she watched from a distance, a group of four people—men and women—appeared from inside. Two of them were Isaac and Miria. And…

When she saw the faces of the other two, she thought her heart might stop.

She knew the faces of those men as well.

Or rather, she’d never actually seen them before. However, they had definitely been in the “knowledge” Szilard had given her.

One was Szilard’s former comrade. The alchemist Maiza Avaro, the one whose knowledge Szilard wanted.

The other… She didn’t know his name, but it was the boy who’d been looking for her.

The four exchanged casual good-byes. Then Isaac and Miria headed into town, while Maiza and the boy went back into the shop.

Upon confirming that Maiza and the other guy had the crate, Ennis left immediately, hurrying back to Szilard.

“I don’t really understand, but… While Isaac and Miria are away…”

The guy who’d been with Maiza. Maybe he’d been looking for her because Maiza had known about her and had sent his friend to spy.

She didn’t know what connection they had to Isaac and Miria. It was possible that Maiza had tricked them and was using them.

Either way, she hoped the two of them would be able to get away after Szilard had “eaten” Maiza.

The thought that Isaac and Miria might have been in cahoots with the alchemist and made contact with Ennis in order to spy on her never crossed her mind. This was partly due to the fact that their encounter had been sheer coincidence…but the biggest reason was that Ennis liked that ditzy couple.

That was all it was.

“Explain yourself, Ennis. Where have you been? Where is the finished product?”

When she returned to the building south of Grand Central, Szilard was the only one there.

All the old men were individuals of a certain rank. They probably couldn’t leave their workplaces for days on end. Some of them had
fussed, insisting they were going to wait for the finished product to arrive, but at a glare from Szilard, they’d gone home as if they were running away.

She didn’t see Dallas’s group, either. Well, they probably couldn’t come back. But if they
had
returned, by now they were inside Szilard’s right hand.

Briefly, Ennis explained what had happened. She kept Isaac and Miria out of it, phrasing her story as though Maiza had been the one to steal the liquor.

“…Maiza?!”

The effect was immediate. Everything but that man had vanished from Szilard’s mind. It seemed likely that she’d get by without being cross-examined about Isaac and Miria.

“…Bring the car around, Ennis. I’ll go myself. If I’m not the one to ‘eat’ Maiza, there’ll be no point. Keh… Keh-ha-ha-ha-ha! I don’t know if he knew about me and interfered on purpose, but it doesn’t matter! I’ll ‘eat’ him if it’s the last thing I do! Make haste, Ennis! If anyone drinks that finished product, we’ll have that many more to ‘eat’ our way through!”

“Of course, but, sir… If Maiza knows about us, won’t he give that finished product to lots of his companions…?”

“No, there’s no need to worry about that. In the first place, he hates immortality more than anyone! If he finds out about the finished product, he’ll probably smash it then and there… Not that it would bother me in the least if he did!”

The alchemist Ennis had “eaten” long ago hadn’t had that particular knowledge. All he’d known was that Szilard had gone around killing his comrades, and because Maiza had awakened suddenly, half of them survived.

“…Take a gun. This time, I give you permission to cut loose a bit. Kill all the citizens of New York if you like!”

It was an insane thing to say, but compared to the Szilard who always observed everything as if it bored him, this version was far livelier.

It frightened Ennis.

The wheel of fortune tumbled down the spiral staircase. The vibrations traveled up and down its length.