Although the person calling out was nearly ten meters away, Lynch recognized him instantly. It was that slick-haired young clerk from Douglas Bank, pointing at Lynch while hopping on one foot. The elder Douglas followed close behind, already gasping for breath.
Another group of blue uniforms was rushing past them, appearing from every direction.
Beep beep beep.
The sharp, piercing sound of police whistles felt like needles stabbing into his heart. A crowd of burly men swung their rubber truncheons as they sprinted closer, their chaotic footsteps creating immense pressure.
Seeing the fierce, combat-ready appearance of the police as they closed in, Lynch frowned. He said nothing, instead taking off his hat and holding it out in front of him, revealing the lining inside.
Pinned there was the badge issued by the Governor's Office. Lynch had used it to enter the Hall of Order and its associated police club, where junior officers on duty treated him like a superior. He did not doubt the effectiveness of this item for a second.
Sure enough, as soon as the badge was displayed, the police at the front stopped in hesitation, subsequently colliding with the colleagues behind them. The officers circling from the sides realized something was wrong, and although they stopped just before reaching Lynch, none dared to be rude to him anymore.
The group muttered among themselves for a while. One officer, who appeared to have the highest rank, stepped forward to identify the badge from a distance and immediately gestured for the other police to stand down.
"It is him! He just used a check to withdraw fifty pounds in cash!"
The two bank employees, one old and one young, had already rushed over. The young clerk's face was flushed, and he pointed at Lynch with great excitement, shouting to the surrounding police:
"Look at his clothes! How could someone like him possibly have a fifty-pound check? He must have stolen it from somewhere, and his goal was to use this opportunity to steal our escrow items."
Douglas, meanwhile, kept his small eyes darting around. He seemed to have already sensed that something was wrong and watched in silence.
Lynch looked at the police, then at the banker and clerk who had been crowded over by the other officers. He roughly guessed what had happened. It was likely that the gentleman covered in mystery relics had already succeeded and left, and these two victims, discovering their loss, wanted to pin the blame on him.
"Quick, gentlemen, catch him!"
Seeing that the blue uniforms had not immediately pinned Lynch down, the young clerk's voice grew even louder, as if he wished he could grab Lynch himself.
Lynch smiled. Not intending to make things difficult for the police, he tossed the badge from his hat to the officer who had stepped forward to engage him. The blue uniform immediately looked relieved, caught it, inspected it carefully, and then returned it with both hands: "Apologies, sir."
"Ah?"
The two realized the situation had turned and stood with their mouths agape, at a loss. Their expressions became quite ugly. Lynch raised an eyebrow at the young man with a sardonic smile and slowly retrieved his badge: "What is going on with these two?"
"Reporting, sir, Mr. Douglas reported a theft. The bank lost an important escrow item, and they said you..."
"Hm? Does a theft case require this many brothers to be mobilized?"
"Sir, it seems the lost item is very important."
Lynch realized the issue in his words, glanced at him, and nodded: "So there is another officer leading the team? Since it is considered so important, is it Inspector Brute or Inspector Walter leading the way?"
Upon hearing Lynch's tone, the blue uniform felt even more reassured: "It is Inspector Brute, sir."
"He should be nearby. Go find a brother to notify him. Tell him Lynch Levive is here. He knows me and will come over; you do not need to make the decision yourself."
"Yes, thank you, sir."
Lynch then turned his gaze to the two sour-faced bankers and whispered to the young clerk with a smile: "It seems the five minutes I gave you earlier was far too generous. You still have not learned your lesson; I should have only given you five seconds."
The young clerk instinctively took a step back, looking as if he wanted to run, but he was surrounded by police and had nowhere to go.
"Oh, my friend, you should know that making a false accusation is punishable by the same penalty. I truly pity you; why would you do such a thing?" In truth, Lynch did not know if Lande had such a law, but who knew? Maybe he could invent it. "Or do you think that because you are a decent upper-class person, you can just slap a theft charge on a lower-class wretch like me? Do you think the police brothers of the Hall of Order and the judges of the Hall of Justice will not care about your behavior?"
"I... I... I did not make a false accusation." The young clerk's face turned pale, and he looked like he was about to cry. "It must be you. Otherwise, why would the item disappear the moment you left?"
"Ha, go tell that to the judge. Good luck, I hope you find a judge who believes you. What do you say, Mr. Douglas?"
"Boss, you have to believe me!" The young clerk was about to kneel and grab Douglas's leg.
The old banker's eyes darted around again. He gave a dry laugh and said, "We are only assisting the Hall of Order in the investigation. As for who actually did it, that remains for the inspector to decide. However, not many people came in today, and surely you would not want to imply that a certain nobleman did it?"
"Exactly!" The young clerk immediately regained his courage and shouted boldly, "You are accusing a Viscount of the Kingdom of Salter—who wears an honorary medal issued by the Friedman royal family and whose wealth is guaranteed by three lords of the Kingdom of Salter—of being a thief! You..."
As he spoke, several people rushed over from not far away. The leader strode up to the young clerk and slapped him twice across the face, leaving ten red finger marks and a bloodied tooth.
"Are you accusing a detective who was personally hired by the Governor, openly commended at the City Council, personally awarded a cash prize by the Chairman, and highly praised by the Saint Nightingale and Archbishop Trinlais of the Black Night Cathedral of being a thief?"
The person who rushed over to hit him was none other than Inspector Brute, one of the two inspectors of the Hall of Order. Upon hearing the inspector's words, the young clerk's legs went soft, and he collapsed to the ground, clutching his face and daring not to say another word. The old banker's expression turned rigid; he finally realized that the background of this detective was completely unlike those young people he had seen before, and this was not someone he could manipulate at will.
After stiffening for only a second, he immediately put on a smile, leaned close to Lynch, and whispered: "Sir, sir, I am truly sorry. It was a misunderstanding. We were just too anxious after losing the item and lost our heads, blaming it on you. We are truly sorry. I hope you can consider that we are victims as well and not hold it against us small people."
As he spoke, he kicked the young clerk over and gave him a look. The young clerk immediately crawled to Lynch, wailing and clutching his legs.
Lynch sighed. He could see it now: this inspector definitely had ties to Douglas Bank, likely acting as a protective umbrella, which was why he arrived so quickly and secretly signaled the two not to provoke someone they could not afford to offend.
Lynch thought for a moment and said with a cold laugh: "If apologies were useful, there would be no need for the Hall of Order to exist. You have damaged the reputation that a gentleman values most, and you think a gentleman's reputation is worth only an apology? Although Lande law currently prohibits it, I am considering whether I should slap my glove across your faces."
"No, no, sir, you have misunderstood." The old banker quickly replied, "The apology is just to express our thoughts. We feel deeply guilty for harming your reputation and are willing to pay you ten pounds to compensate for the harm done to you."
"So, you think my reputation is only worth ten pounds? You are insulting me." Lynch was furious, poking his cane heavily against the ground. "Is your sincerity not even worth as much as Grant's?"
"No, no, sir, I misspoke. I meant fifty pounds! Like the Chairman, we are also just businessmen and dare not exceed the Chairman's amount. Please, accept our sincerity."
"Hmph. If not for Inspector Brute arriving in person, I would never let you off so easily. Have my reputation damages sent to the Inspector's office as soon as possible. I will visit the Inspector's office in a few days."
It was not worth truly causing someone's death over such a matter. Now that he had severely fleeced the banker, Lynch was in a great mood; after all, it was rare to find such kind souls who would jump out to be beaten and deliver money to him at the same time. After taking a jab at the inspector, Lynch asked casually:
"What exactly was lost? To cause such a commotion."
"A ruby, deposited in the bank by a princess of the Kingdom of Salter who is studying in Lande." Inspector Brute answered with a sheepish smile. "It involves political influence, so it must be treated with high priority. Furthermore, the gemstone itself has special properties and is said to involve some unspeakable existence. Half the Hall of Order has been stirred up."
Hiss, that con artist thief has quite an appetite.
Lynch hesitated for a moment. He instinctively felt that this was a rather troublesome case. It might be an embarrassing matter, so it was better to leave it to those fools in the Rangers. He gave Inspector Brute's arm a meaningful pat and whispered: "A piece of advice, Inspector: do not waste time. Just invite the Rangers to participate as well."
"Are you saying this matter relates to..." Inspector Brute's face turned even uglier.
"It is very possible."
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