"This group is notorious across 10 countries. The police across the continent has been practically chasing after them for nearly a decade. Even if they have been known well enough, strangely, the police still couldn't figure out how many of them, who is the master mind, and else."
The little boy stared at them as he listened to the story. His pupils widened and sweat started to flow out of his pores.
"I don't like this. Pizza owner, what are they talking about? Is the owner in danger?"
The middle-aged man didn't answer the young boy's questions. He wasn't sure either. 'Who are they actually?' He asked to himself. The silence nearly killed everybody there with heavy tense.
The young lady looked at her grandaunt, wasn't sure what to do nor was it related to her too. Those men said something related to their family's inheritance. 'Should I help her? Should I sit beside her?, at least' She was hesitant.
Finally, the old lady broke the ice-cold air, "Lynn."
The young lady grasped with surprise, "Yes, granny?"
"Could you please bring me a cup of milk tea? And... three slices of spinach pie, please?"
"Sure, in a flash, granny."
The young lady came back with a tray full of pies and a cup of tea. She put the cup in front of the old lady and the pies to each of them, the old lady and the gentlemen. The old lady took the cup and sipped it with composure.
"If... the police couldn't do much for this past decade, how will you help me, my dear gentlemen?"
The chubby man and the crooked-nose man looked at each other. Seems like they hadn't introduced their selves properly enough.
"We are, Mrs. Lisdelle, detectives from the headquarter," said the chubby man.
They sun rose higher as the clock ticking. The air got hotter and everybody in the coffee shop felt uncomfortable.
The boy grasped and held his breath. He knew the word, detective. However, he didn't have enough idea about what is a detective actually, what does a detective do. He would like to ask and his hand nearly reached the sleeve of the middle-aged man who sat just beside him. However, he was hesitant and stopped his hand mid-air. ;This is too serious, I should wait until they leave', he told himself.
The middle-aged man stared deeply to the two gentlemen. He leaned his back to the bar and put his left arm on the top. His right hand held a cup of lemon tea, his favourite for all year round. But this time, he ignored the cup in his hand completely. His sole mind was in the conversation which he openly showed his interest.
The young lady was agitated when she heard the word detectives. Her mind dashed to her parents house in a small village next to the neighbouring city, approximately 50 miles to the south east. 'They said something about family inheritance, a telegram to Granny Lisda's sister whom must be my own grandmother, a fraud...?' The young lady's world was spinning in front of her eyes.
"I know," said the old lady, without being taken by surprised.
"I figured it out as you knew the fact there is another party claiming our family's land. We agreed to not telling anybody about this, until today, when I told Harold. Even my grandniece over there didn't know anything until just a moment ago."
She sipped another mouth full of her tea and took a small bite of her pie.
"The fact that you both came here trying to convince me to cooperate is an enough proof that you are from the headquarter, and... with a pretty high rank. Since you only came as a partner, there is only one possibility."
The chubby man was pleased and smiled, "You yourself, have a very good deductive ability, Mrs. Lisdelle."
The young boy didn't like the smile, he smelled something fishy and he definitely couldn't predict what would the chubby man do next. He didn't like anything he couldn't predict.
"And..." The crocked-nose man left a question mark in his tone.
"And I can't give you any further response for the moment. No matter how urgent it is, it is still a family matter. Please wait until the day after tomorrow. I believe I will get a telegram from my sister by that day."
"Very well then. We will come again on that day, Mrs. Lisdelle. I hope it will be a good conversation," he took his black bowler and put it on.
"Young lady, could we take these nice pies away?" He brought the two plates of pie to the bar.
"Ah, sure. I will wrap it up," as the young lady took the plates to the kitchen.
"How much?" The crocked-nose man stood up wore his ascot cap, "The pies and drinks?"
"No need, gentlemen. It's on the house," the old lady smiled at him.
The crocked-nose man put two crowns on the table as he left, "We will take it as a payment when you agree to cooperate."
The bell chimed as the two gentlemen walked out the coffee shop. The day wasn't ended yet, but the energy in the room was totally drained out.
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