In cases like Azui’s, it was implied that looking into the history of his relative would bleed over into his private life. Nero never ventured farther than necessary, yet he often found himself at least knee deep in excrement..
For the most part, Azui’s background was relatively unproblematic. He did play the mandolin in the King’s Philharmonic, and he did live in Northern Gaidos- albeit a far nicer part than Nero lived in, but all these things were true.
He had a number of wealthy sponsors, and won many competitions prior to being recruited by the philharmonic.
And so Nero could not help but wonder why walking into the young man’s apartment building was so easy, too easy. Typically clients of his caliber had higher security in place and lived in buildings not accessible to the general public.
Yet the finder of things entered the apartment complex unimpeded, and promptly found himself standing in front of Azui’s door. He hadn’t written ahead to let his client know that he was stopping by on account that he was only in the area by chance. Before Azui hired him, he had been working on two other cases. The ugly rock one, and the one he had closed moments ago.
Anticipating a deeper dive into the musician’s private life, he wanted to confirm a theory of his. On the chance Azui wasn’t home, he would return later, or leave a message for him at the front desk.
He knocked thrice, and 30 seconds later the door opened. The young man on the other side was surprised at his arrival but did not appear bothered.
“You’re not the doorman.” He joked and held the door open wider for him. “Come in.”
One day, Nero would talk to him about the level of trust he put in strangers. He trusted in excess when Nero typically did the opposite, he didn’t trust enough.
“Sorry for the intrusion,” Nero shut the door behind him and took in the fully furnished parlor. “ I was in the area and wondered if I could cross check my information with your records. Only if you have time, if not I can come back later”
Azui picked up some papers and a book from the cabriole sofa and set them on top of an upright piano sitting on the corner. “No, please sit. What do you drink? I have tea, I have cocoa, I have alcohol. It’s a little early but I won't judge.”
“Oh I’m alright, I don’t want to take up your afternoon.”
That was an answer his host was going to ignore seeing as he walked straight into the kitchen.
“Please, you have saved me from an afternoon of reading sheet music. Allow me to grab tea at least, in the meantime tell me more about what you’re looking to verify. As you see, I have paper stored everywhere. If I know what you’re looking for, it’ll give me an idea of where to look.”
He promptly returned with a teapot and two cups explaining the kettle had finished shortly before his arrival.
Nero accepted the tea and thanked him. The smell was flowery, like a rose, or a lavender, or both.
“Well first, you said you have letters. Do any of these correspondences include envelopes? Specifically, any of her correspondences from Banesur?”
“Hm, yes but they had no return address, it just says Banesur Post.”
“Do you mind showing me?”
“Not at all, give me a second.” He set his steaming tea down and walked into a nearby open room that looked like an office or a large storage space. He opened a cabinet and began to flip through the contents.
“Have you heard or know anything about Torelen?” Nero asked him as he did this.
“Is that one of the coastal towns?”
“Yes, it’s right south of Banesur.”
He shook his head, walking back holding out a couple of envelopes for the finder to take.
Nero took them and flipped through the faces of the envelopes, quickly confirming his suspicions, “From the sounds of it, when she left here, she didn’t wish to be found. Which leads me to believe that she might have gone out of her way to mail letters from a post office far less closer to her home. Or she might have not even done that, see that right there?” He held the envelope for the young man to see. “She put the return address as Banesur Post, and it was stamped from there. But you can actually pay for the stamp before posting a letter. She probably picked up responses from Banesur Post, purchased a stamped envelope, and dropped it off at a post office in Torelen.”
Azui’s eyebrows knitted together, then shot up with his question, “How can you be sure it's Torelen?”
“Well you see this number here?” Nero pointed to the lower edge of the envelope, “This is a processing number. The first half corresponds to the post office that accepts the letter, and the second number is the central post office of its final destination. 556 is the number for Southern Gaidos, and 309 is for Torelen. Banesur’s is 311. And when I followed up on the seamstress information you gave me, I discovered that while she sent the last week of wages to your mother in Banesur, the bank receipt showed the check was processed in a bank in Torelen.”
The young man’s bright eyes widened, fully impressed. Then, he smiled confidently, as if he was pleased with himself for investing in Nero’s services. All while recognizing the competence of Nero’s labor.
Nero was not the sort to long for praise, nor did he enjoy the feeling of being impressive to his clients. He did the job because it was interesting to him. This case however, hit differently. He wondered if it was the kind of person Azui was.
Not that he was a different class of character, at least socially that is. Over the years Nero had met people equally as wealthy, equally as talented, and equally as prideful, but there was a constant knowing glint to his eye. One that knew that Nero was more than the surface level version of himself that he presented.
He could not deny that he enjoyed that little bit of recognition.
He cleared his throat. “Azui, have you given any thought as to why she might have gone through so much effort to not want to be found? I’m prepared to move forward, I’m only wondering if her leaving was her choice, and if it wasn’t, whose choice was it? You have to consider the possibility that they’ll want to stop you from continuing this investigation.”
“You speak of my father.” His voice dimmed in tone.
Nero nodded, “I did have to dip into his finances. I doubt he’s aware, but there is more I wish to look into and it might not be as easy to do so casually.”
“Right, and there’s no way of avoiding that?”
“I’ll avoid if any of my other leads give me anything.” He handed back the letters.
“Fair enough, thank you Nero.”
He downed the rest of the tea which was a tinge too hot for that. He blinked away the pain and set the cup down on the coffee table, “I’ll take my leave now.”
“Can I ask you what your next course of action is? I wish to help if I can.”
“Uh, I plan to verify some matters in Torelen. I’ll leave in a couple of days.” Doing the math in his head, the trip down river took 4 days and 5 back, but he could post a letter from there that would likely make it to Gaidos before he did. “You’ll hear from me in a week and a half at the latest.”
“How are you planning to travel, riverboat?” His mood livened, “I implore you, might I tag along?”
His eagerness made it all the harder for Nero to convince him otherwise, he could not let him join however. It was too early in his investigations.
“I don’t believe that’s a good idea,” he said as gently as possible. “For this trip anyway, I don’t have all the details fleshed out yet. I’d rather you wait for a later trip, when I have more information for you.”
His client took it surprisingly well. “I understand. Can I at least pay for the voyage? I insist. Let me know the date and I will have them set your ticket aside at the booth.”
“Much appreciated although you really don’t have to-”
Again, he chose to ignore that answer, “It’s as good as done already.”
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