Chapter Nineteen - Advance

  I felt an indescribable slew of emotions whirling within me. There was happiness, gratitude, and elation. However, those feelings felt more like a manic episode more than any regular gratitude. I have been drowning in sorrow for the past few days, and now, after finally hitting the jackpot, my body does not know how to comprehend it. I felt energetic, as if I could knock down the rest of the case today. However, I knew what this meant, and what a manic episode does. Even though I felt extremely overjoyed and energetic, I was still horribly sleep deprived and drained of energy. They were false signals mixed in with my bodily needs. What I needed the most right now is some well-deserved rest.

  After what happened with Debrief, I felt completely lost and defeated, as if there was nothing to accomplish. For these past hours, I have felt devoid of hope. There was only the droning sound of my consciousness, and the calling of the void screaming my name. But now, those thoughts abated, and I feel comfortable enough to sleep again.

  What I just pulled off is no ordinary feat. From the jumble of meaningless clues that had no connection to each other, I discerned the true essence of the Flawless. Truthfully, I have gotten farther than anyone else in the past. Past Watkins, past the numerous detectives of before, and past myself, the person who I was yesterday.

  Tomorrow, there are but two things that need to be done. I have to check the citizen register back at the DPD, and with that, I also need to check up on the situation behind Debrief. I have no clue how fast he plans on becoming director, but there is a lot of bureaucracy that goes along with that process. It is an estimate based on almost nothing, but I am giving myself a week to finish this case. In that one week, I have to close it all for good.

  Waking up this time around was way less painful, to say the least. There was no stinging pain in my shoulder anymore, either because I can now endure it, or I may have gotten used to the pain. Either way, I had a goal in mind today, and I felt considerably better than yesterday, even if I slept for only four hours. Any sleep is better than no sleep, and I don’t know how much longer I would have survived on two hours like I did before Good E’s. A quick dressing later, and I was ready to head out.

  I got straight into my car, skipping breakfast and hygiene. I was hoping to end everything soon and allow myself some respite, but for now, investigation is still my only priority. The stubble I had at the start of this case has turned into a full-on beard scratching at my skin. Honestly, I felt awful, but not as awful as yesterday. The hope I could cling on in the name of Heather echoed around me like an angel.

  As for Detective Debrief, I know his exact game plan. There is nothing he can do anymore that can surprise me. The saying goes: fool me once, shame on you – fool me twice, shame on me. He wasn’t going to trick me a second time, and I was certain of that, because I wouldn’t be falling into his antics next time. The reason his plan worked was because I played straight into his hand of cards. All that I need to do is not get led astray by his upper hand in the interrogations.

  I am expecting the DPD to be a bit frantic right now. Things will be in motion because of the fiasco that Debrief caused yesterday, and also the preparation for the new director selection. Nonetheless, there should be nothing in my way, aside from a few glum faces as I head towards my office. Sylphie should still be there, unknowing of anything that had transpired during the night and evening. As for Faust, she had been radio-silent ever since that encounter I had with her in Penrose Park. I hope she’s okay. Things are constantly changing right now, and there is no telling if she knows about the latest.

  As I headed inside the building, an expected sight greeted me. A variety of disgusted faces, each one uglier than the last. I didn’t care about a single one of them – they were only the gravel beneath my feet right now. All they could muster to do was heckle and criticize me, as if I wasn’t trying fifty times harder than them. I am carrying the phantom of the DPD on my shoulders, and despite that, they still try to bring me down.

  Ignoring everything around me, I headed straight to my office. A few heckling words were sent my way, but I chose to not hear them. Regardless, baseless criticism has never improved anything, and I hardly believe that improving is what they want me to do. I gently open the door, thinking that Sylphie is still sound asleep, but I was pleasantly surprised to learn that she is already up and awake, scribbling away a report into a document.

  “Rise and shine, Sylphie says.”

  “Top of the morning to you, too.”

  I didn’t really plan on telling her of my colossal blunder from yesterday, as it could only hurt her image of me. It doesn’t really matter, though, and it could go both ways, honestly. If I told her, nothing would change, and the same would happen if I didn’t tell her.

  With due haste, I immediately turned on my computer and headed straight to the register. Compared to everything else I have had to do up until now, this is a freebie. The register search was in front of me, and all I had to do was type in the name “Heather Tuchet”.

  Sylphie carefully watches, seemingly surprised. “Who’s that?”

  “A clue, Sylphie.”

  Maybe I am becoming forgetful from all the stress, but Sylphie just now sounded genuinely confused. If I recall correctly, this marks the first time that has happened. And I don’t blame her, if I suddenly showed up the next day with brand-new information overnight, I would assume that I have some kind of superpower.

  “Hold on, where did you learn of this, Detective?”

  “I did some things on my own. I thought that maybe you deserved a rest,” I calmly replied.

  That silenced her for a moment, allowing me to check out the results of the search. Sylphie seemed to be in deep thought when she saw that name – perhaps she thinks that this is the identity of the Face, or something along those lines. But that is impossible, I have seen the Face with my own two eyes, and Heather is supposedly over sixty years old this year.

  “Look at that! Still living in Misult City, after all these years,” I exclaimed happily.

  “Heather… Tuchet? Who is this supposed to be?” Sylphie questioned, perplexed.

  “This is someone who should know of the identity of the Flawless.”

  “Sylphie does not understand, please explain-” she urged at an alarmed pace.

  “Calm down, I will tell you. You don’t have to start crying over my shoulders like that.”

  Her reaction is strange, but I thought nothing of it. I had something more important than babysitting my assistant. As for the result, only one name came up, and their address is within Misult City. Needless to say, this is the best possible scenario for me – only one place to check. It is a nice change of pace from the suffering that I have endured in the past few days.

  “Well then, I am going away again. See you soon, Sylphie,” I said while exiting the office.

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  “Wait! Sylphie wants to come with, she is your assistant, after all.”

  She looked at me with an indescribable expression I have seen on her for the first time ever. I was somewhat confused – was she just that clingy? Or was there something I was not getting?

  “Fine. But you will sit in the backseat, I need to concentrate for this.”

  With that part done, I headed out of my office along with Sylphie. Throughout the halls, I have seen no Debrief or anyone else I can consider an adversary as of right now. However, once we came up to the front entrance hall, I saw not just him, but also someone who had yet to make an appearance up until now.

  “Detective Nagel and Detective Debrief, good morning to you both.”

  Detective Nagel has finally showed up at once. He still looked the same as ever, like the wrinkly aged potato rolling around in a wheelchair that he is. And I mean that in a good way, it is quite the miracle that he is still determined to go on as a detective, despite his sorry state and age.

  Debrief reacted first. “Good day to you, Detective Capleaf.”

  Then, Nagel chimed in. “Ah! What a pleasant surprise! Vince has joined the gathering of the elite!”

  He was right – it is not a daily occurrence that all three S-tiers meet in one room. He could be described as a simple old man on the jollier side of the old man spectrum, on which the other side would be grumpiness. However, even that swings from time to time, and sometimes, you could find him on the opposite end of that spectrum if something bothers him. His words tend to be accompanied by a symphony of bodily sounds ranging from burps, hiccups and belching. Even though it is considered impolite as hell, no one would dare to say that to him, the ultimate S-tier detective that even I would consider superior to me at some point in time. Nowadays, he is closer to retirement than his prime, unfortunately, but he is still kicking.

  I enquired to both of them. “So, I heard that you guys are going to be running for director?”

  This was going to be my opening statement that would show on whose side Nagel is. Chances are that the propaganda shared by Debrief has already got to him.

  The old man perked up. “Ayup! Like the two sides of a presidential race, we’ll be.”

  “Indeed, Detective Capleaf. What about you – have you made your stance on the matter yet?” Debrief covertly asked.

  I know what you are doing, Debrief. You are trying to get chummy with everyone here, including your political opponent. You are trying to keep up a good appearance in front of him, and then later disclose what underwent yesterday. Luckily, Nagel is too old to understand such advances, and might just stick with his own thoughts. For him, you might need more than manipulation – he is one of the few in this building that thinks of me as a friend. Good luck changing that.

  “I will not be participating in this. I don’t care about being director.”

  “Ahh, such is the way of Vince Capleaf…”

  “It is quite the shame, Detective Capleaf – the symbolism of the elite three going against each other would be immense.”

  “Yeah, well, you can have fun without me. I am busy right now,” I denied his wishes.

  I am not that stupid to fall for that trap. There is no chance for me to win any of this, no matter how much PR I would amass. You just wish to defeat me in yet another way, huh, Debrief?

  Nagel enquired. “Oh, of course! You got that awful one, right? MC-13, it was!”

  “Awful is an understatement,” I responded.

  “How are your investigations going along, by the way?” Debrief pondered.

  “I am making sound progress. Right now, actually, I am headed for a big opportunity.”

  “I take it so that ‘awful’ is your usual state, then.”

  Amongst us, none of us really cared about material things such as appearance, except Debrief, who sought to always look perfect to the outside world. Either of them were free to point out my filthy and grimy look, but neither of them did. I would say that the eloquent one thought it, but refused to tell for the sake of his own agenda.

  This triangle of S-tiers – each one of us had some kind of hidden feeling towards the other two. I, myself, hated Debrief, yet here I am speaking on equal terms with him. While on the other hand, Nagel is one of my closest allies in the precinct. Debrief seeks to crush me and Nagel alike as our opposition, yet he remains composed and neutral towards us. As for the old man, he seems to just be here for the ride, honestly. I cannot read his emotions.

  “Oh! Did you bring your daughter to work, Vince?” Nagel said, referring to Sylphie, who stood a few paces behind me.

  “That is my Assistant Detective on MC-13, Sylphie Moore.”

  She seemed a bit embarrassed, only offering a wave towards us in response. However, Debrief had to one-up us, and decided to walk over to her.

  He kneeled in front of her and made a knightly gesture of kissing her hand. “My pleasure to meet you, Ms. Moore.”

  Her embarrassment turned into full-on discomfiture, and you could see her cheeks flare up red as soon as they made physical contact.

  Nagel whispered towards me. “I think he likes her.”

  I stepped in between them. “Sorry to interrupt your chivalry, but we need to get going.”

  “Alright then, Detective Capleaf. Safe travels to you both,” Debrief said with a smile and a wave as we left.

  The situation got awkward quite fast, and I decided that it was enough. I took Sylphie with me and departed from the DPD.

  “That Debrief is a creepy man, Sylphie thinks.”

  “Tell me about it,” I added while rolling my eyes.

  According to the search results, Heather Tuchet still resides within the confines of Misult City, just on the outskirts of the Glason District. In all honestly, the sheer reality that she is still alive to tell us his name is a miracle in of itself. Without this lady, the trace would have gone cold again – this is a chance I will not waste under any circumstances.

  It still seems unbelievable – in the span of one eventful night, I went from not knowing anything, to searching for the name of the Flawless himself. I felt as if the burden I carried became somewhat lighter as I approached the end of this. With me being at my wits’ end, I just can’t afford to fail anymore. It just isn’t plausible.

  The car ride was especially silent this time around, and Sylphie didn’t say her usual remark about the smell of my car. I could tell that something was bothering her, although I didn’t know what. Regardless, she is an adult, so who am I to care for her feelings right now? The more important task is to apprehend the Flawless, and not being the caretaker for a sullen girl. With how far the Glason District is, it made the journey noticeably long. It is probably the farthest I have ventured from the city so far. Even this is a miracle to some extent – having everything happening in one country, region, and city.

  After about an hour of prolonged driving in utmost silence, we have arrived in the district. It was quite the suburban area, dotted with single-floor houses with fenced porches and sizeable lawns in front. Luckily, there is no need to be ringing on every door in here, because the house we are looking for resides on Ingram Road. In comparison to all the other districts of Misult City, this one is probably the smallest and least significant. Given the age of the person we are looking for, it only makes sense that someone would retire here. Heather should be here, according to the civilian records.

  The exact address that the computer displayed was ‘Misult City, Glason District, Ingram Road 18’, meaning that we just have to look for the house with number eighteen on it. It got me thinking – if the Flawless is the child from the news story, would he be aware of his aunt’s existence twenty-six years later? This lady is the only person that would know his name, surely, he has thought of that? The Flawless has this title for a reason, for he has yet to make a flaw in his design. It would be yet another miracle in the series of miracles to meet with Heather Tuchet in person. Nonetheless, miracles are the only thing I can rely on in my current circumstances.

  After a while of walking side by side with Sylphie, we have made it to a house with an ‘18’ written on the stone wall surrounding the property. The house itself is quite different from the others we have seen, proving to be of more value than the surrounding area. The main difference was the size of the home, boasting two floors compared to the other abodes around here, but still not as big as the villas of Stingrove District. Without delay, I pressed the electronic doorbell present on the marble wall.