Chapter 15
After sorting the receipts, I was organizing today’s mail when a pink envelope decorated with hearts caught my eye. I let out a short laugh.
‘Well, he is handsome enough to get fan letters sent to the Police Bureau.’
In this era, the only photographs around are in black and white. In other words, Hunt is the kind of man whose good looks shine through even in grainy monochrome images.
‘There probably aren’t even many photos of him, since he avoids cameras like someone allergic to the press.’
Yet even a few blurry shots taken from afar were enough to make fans go wild.
‘With those looks, he could’ve easily lived a comfortable life as an actor. Why go through all the trouble of becoming a policeman just to chase me day and night?’
Of course, my complaint isn’t really about Hunt’s struggles—it’s about the fact that he’s chasing me around the clock.
For someone who’d never failed to solve a case and always climbed higher and higher, it’s not strange that he became obsessed with me—the first to hand him true frustration.
‘No doubt he spends 24/7 thinking only about me.’
Rumor had it that when the Police Commissioner personally set him up on a blind date, Hunt spent the whole meeting talking about me instead.
‘A man who talks about another woman during a date… the worst.’
Anyway, whether thanks to constantly thinking of me or not, his deductions have been getting sharper. I even considered lying low for a while…
—The date written on the new notice from the Thief Crow is today, isn’t it?
…but I couldn’t. I’d already accepted the mission beforehand! Once I agree to a mission, I must finish it within the deadline. Otherwise, I lose points again.
“Like a slave.”
A slave to the system.
“The more I think about it, the creepier it feels?”
On top of that, he analyzed my social and economic standing just from the wording of the notice.
‘Well, it’s true I don’t really know the upper-class manner of speaking here.’
I thought about twisting the phrasing in this notice to throw him off, but in the end, I didn’t.
‘If I did, he might realize I’m an insider.’
With a quick-witted man like Hunt, that’s entirely possible. So I sent it out in my usual style.
The reason the Special Investigations Headquarters is completely empty today is because of my notice. After all, the D-Day written on it is today.
When I glanced up, the clock on the wall was pointing to 5 p.m.
‘Isn’t it about time for the call?’
…and just as I thought that, the telephone rang.
Riiiing!
“Hello, this is Claire Kent of Eden City Police Bureau’s Special Investigation Unit.”
— Claire!
As expected, the caller was Sergeant Smith.
— I completely forgot and left some equipment we really need for the scene back at the office. I’m so sorry, but could you bring it over?
“Oh my, of course. You don’t need to apologize.”
Because I was the one who hid it in the first place, making him forget.
This time, I planned to use the excuse of delivering the equipment to slip into the crime scene ahead of schedule.
“I’ll head over right away.”
The moment I hung up, I grabbed the hidden bag and left the building.
‘I’ll take a taxi.’
On the taxpayer’s dime. But since I’m a taxpayer too, it’s my money.
I was crossing the plaza in front of the Bureau on my way to the taxi stand when—
“Stop! Give me back my cats!”
A desperate scream rang out.
I turned my head to see the plaza’s well-known Cat Grandma.
“How dare you! Stop this instant!”
She was furiously swinging her bent parasol at men dressed in black uniforms.
‘Those men… are they from Animal Control?’
While a burly man blocked her, the others were grabbing cats from her stroller and tossing them into a car trunk.
‘That looks like abuse, doesn’t it?’
Watching them scoop the cats up one by one with nets like bug catchers made me frown.
“You bastards!”
“Ma’am, this is all for the animals’ own good. Please stop resisting.”
“If I could just get my hands on that damn Ruby, all of you would—”
“Excuse me.”
I stepped forward and addressed the man blocking her.
“These aren’t strays. Why are you taking away someone else’s cats?”
“We received a report.”
“So just because someone reports it, the city has the right to snatch cats from their owners?”
“Snatch? No. We’re only taking measures so these cats can escape a homeless, senile old woman and find good owners who’ll give them happy lives.”
The way he dismissed her as a homeless beggar unfit to be a good owner made my chest tighten with anger.
‘But Ruby said the happiest life she ever had was with a poor wretch like me.’
I was sure the cats struggling inside the cages felt the same.
“You’re the real villains here!”
When the old woman swung her parasol again, the man stepped back and snapped irritably,
“Interfere one more time, and we’ll call the police for obstruction of official duties. That goes for you too.”
What had I even done? I was just getting started.
I folded my arms tightly and glared at him head-on.
“Everything you just said is wrong.”
“…What?”
“First of all—the cats already look perfectly happy.”
A Siamese cat curled around the old woman’s neck like a scarf was as white as freshly fallen snow.
And it wasn’t just that one. The other cats too—shiny coats, plump and healthy.
“Doesn’t it look obvious that they’ve been well cared for and loved? I’ve seen Grandma’s cats every single day of the week—I’m a witness.”
“No, but…”
The man scratched his head, as if even he couldn’t deny that point.
“And second—how could you call her insane? Do you really think someone out of their mind could take such perfect care of cats?”
“That’s right! The crazy ones are you brats daring to pick a fight with me!”
Grandma’s eyes flashed sharply. Far from showing any signs of dementia or illness, she looked fiercely alert.
“And third—she’s not homeless.”
Sure, during the day she strolled the plaza with her stroller full of cats and begged for money, but at night I’d seen her head somewhere else.
Her hair might’ve been tangled like a bird’s nest, her clothes worn-out, but they were clean. That meant she had a home.
‘Come to think of it, didn’t I once read a story in my past life about a beggar granny who went home in a Benz after panhandling?’
You can’t judge just by appearances.
“And fourth—begging isn’t illegal, is it?”
That was something I’d learned while working at the police station. It only becomes a crime if someone is being forced to beg, or if the act of begging causes unlawful harm to others.
Grandma was neither.
“And fifth—can you really guarantee these cats’ happiness from now on?”
The so-called ‘shelter’ was badly named. Cats taken there weren’t protected at all—most ended up dying in cages.
The man, who had only been opening and closing his mouth helplessly at my arguments, finally frowned in frustration.
“But a resident filed a complaint, so there’s nothing we can do.”
“You of all people should know that a simple complaint isn’t enough to seize an animal that already has an owner.”
I, who had often fought with shelter workers to stop them from taking the cats in my neighborhood, was more well-versed in this than they were.
“You need either the owner’s consent, or an administrative order from the city government.”
I recited the regulation, then asked the stunned man:
“Do you have one?”
“……”
“You don’t, do you?”
Scratching the back of his head in defeat, he admitted as much, and I pressed forward confidently:
“Then return them. Gently. Like you’re handling royalty.”
“Tch…”
Reluctantly, the men placed the cats back into Grandma’s stroller. But I wasn’t done yet.
“And apologize—for calling her a crazy beggar and a homeless vagrant.”
“……”
“Otherwise, I’ll be filing a complaint.”
A civil servant knows exactly where another civil servant’s weak points are.
“…I’m sorry.”
The man, sullen-faced, gave Grandma a stiff, respectful apology before leaving.
As I watched the shelter’s van drive off, my own stern expression softened.
“Whew. That’s a relief.”
They probably wouldn’t bother to get an administrative order.
Public officials who lived by the motto “Don’t stir up big trouble, keep your job long and steady” weren’t about to waste time drafting paperwork and running back and forth to city hall over a handful of cats.
‘Still, just in case…’
As Grandma cursed out the shelter workers with her usual strange choice of words—“shreds,” “owners,” “Ruby”—I gave her a word of caution.
