1.

In the center of the photo the client handed over, two black-haired boys could be seen. One was short and one was taller.

Were they brothers?

Anaïs speculated while focusing on their postures. The taller one seemed to be in the midst of adolescence, with a very delinquent posture. He stood crookedly with his hands shoved into his small pants pockets.

In contrast, the smaller boy only stood at an angle, not crookedly. He didn’t put his hands in his pockets either, and unlike his provocative friend, he looked very well-behaved. At least judging by his posture.

The small boy’s eyes were sharp. He pressed his lips tightly together and glared at the photographer, making Anaïs feel as if he was looking at her rather than the photographer.

“I want to find my sons. They’re brothers I adopted from an orphanage to carry on my legacy, children I raised with care.”

The client who handed over the photo, Mr. Cortez, said.

So they were brothers after all. Anaïs thought while taking the photo Mr. Cortez’s subordinate had given to her boss Mr. Fred. Then she tried to quickly return to her seat. She wanted to maintain an attitude that this matter had nothing to do with her and that she knew nothing about it.

However, Mr. Cortez’s large mafia subordinates were already positioned at her seat. Though they probably didn’t block it on purpose, it was a situation that had been foreseen from the moment so many people barged into the narrow office.

She gave up on pushing through them to sit down and hid behind Mr. Fred. Mr. Fred had a much smaller build than the Cortez family people, but fortunately he was tall. He could cover a cowardly assistant with his body.

Mr. Fred stroked his mustache that he had grown stylishly under his nose while looking at the boys in the photo.

“Don’t you have any other photos?”

Mr. Fred asked cautiously. He was as intimidated by the high-handed attitude these mafia members exuded as Anaïs was.

Mr. Cortez silently sent a look to his subordinate. Then the subordinate wearing a fedora handed over one more photo. This time Mr. Fred received it directly instead of the cowardly assistant who had hidden.

“Hmm, don’t you have any more recent photos?”

Mr. Fred couldn’t hide his disappointed expression after looking at the photo. The subordinate in the fedora answered that they did not.

Why was Mr. Fred disappointed?

Anaïs, who had suddenly become curious, considered whether to stand on tiptoe and peek at the photo over his shoulder. But she stopped. She wasn’t someone with that kind of courage. She didn’t want to be marked as a strange woman by the mafia members through unnecessary actions. Rather, she hoped their memory of the brown-haired assistant at the detective office would be completely erased from their heads.

Even though she gave up standing on tiptoe, her curiosity remained. But she couldn’t think of any obvious reason why her boss was groaning and troubled. She had been working as an assistant at this detective office for going on five years, yet her deductive skills were poor. Guessing that they were brothers had been a lucky guess.

No, lying isn’t good, so she would confess the truth.

She was actually someone who couldn’t even be called an assistant. She had never gone out to scenes with Mr. Fred and was always only at the office. Her work was also paperwork Mr. Fred passed on to her, errands, cleaning, and so on. In reality, she was close to a maid.

“Assistant, please store this.”

Mr. Fred always called her, who was like a maid, an assistant. Having lost interest in the photos, he handed both photos to Anaïs. The photos of the boys passed from person to person and finally settled with Anaïs.

Anaïs looked at the second photo and finally realized why Mr. Fred had asked for something different. The photo was no different from the first one, as if it were a spot-the-difference puzzle.

The boys wore the same clothes and stood against the same gray wall. Even the older one, having his hands in his pockets, was the same. The only difference was that the boys, who had looked full of complaints, were looking at each other and smiling brightly.

Still, though she hadn’t known when looking at just the first photo, she could tell that the two had a very good relationship. The older brother who had looked full of complaints about the world, and the younger brother who had tried to hide his sensitive nature with a well-behaved expression, were both smiling innocently like children. They seemed to think that as long as they had each other in the world, they could overcome anything.

They seemed like good brothers. Anaïs felt her heart warm toward the young brothers for no reason. Then she looked at the back. ‘Harry and Roderick’ was written there. It seemed to be the brothers’ names.

Which one was Harry and which one was Roderick?

She thought for a moment while focusing on the date written next to the names. Good heavens. She understood why Mr. Fred had shown a lukewarm reaction.

This was a photo from fifteen years ago.

“Harry was fourteen and Roderick was twelve at the time.”

Calculating, that meant the older brother Harry was now twenty-nine, and Roderick was twenty-seven.

Mr. Cortez spoke as if he had seen Anaïs’s bewildered expression after checking the date. Anaïs felt guilty for no reason and quickly turned the photo back to the side with the boys.

Had their faces changed a lot, yet he gave this as a clue for finding people? Their adoptive father?

Anaïs thought while worrying that Mr. Cortez might read her thoughts, so she hid more earnestly behind Mr. Fred’s back. She hoped he would refuse the request.

“My close friend Luciano told me to visit you once. He said there’s no one like you for finding people.”

“It’s an honor that Elder Luciano spoke so highly of me! How is he doing?”

Mr. Fred made a fuss, saying it had been a long time since he had visited him. Anaïs recalled that Mr. Fred had previously described ‘Elder Luciano’ as ‘a disgusting old man who likes young women, yet keeps his eyes peeled watching whether his own wife is having an affair.’

He had also said that ‘clients who come through his introduction are all problematic people.’ Since a mafia boss who controlled the streets had come mentioning Luciano’s name, it proved Mr. Fred’s thoughts were correct.

“Luciano is doing well. Recently he seems to be meeting a new woman from the south, bragging about her beautiful abundant brown hair.”

“A new woman at that age—the elder is truly vigorous!”

Anaïs noticed that Mr. Fred was probably cursing inwardly, ‘Ugh, disgusting old man!’ Mr. Cortez narrowed his eyes and slightly raised his right hand.

“Cortez always repays debts. Whether they are good or bad. Can you lend me your strength once?”

Anaïs felt Mr. Fred’s back tense up. Her boss, who hesitated for a moment, straightened his stiff back with effort and soon offered a handshake to Mr. Cortez.

“Let me deliver good news as a Christmas present.”

Having made up his mind, Mr. Fred boldly even set a deadline.

About three weeks remained until Christmas. Was it really possible? Anaïs was anxious, but she remained silent without objecting to her boss’s words.

One way or another, the request was accepted. Satisfied, Mr. Cortez returned with his family, and only then could Anaïs emerge from behind her boss’s back.

Mr. Fred, perhaps excited, rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows and picked up the phone. He opened the phone book in his head and entered numbers.

Anaïs headed to her desk while he made calls here and there. The mafia members had carelessly left, causing papers to fall under the desk, making it messy. She was picking up the fallen papers one by one and organizing them in order when Mr. Fred suddenly exclaimed.

“Yes! Always grateful!”

He seemed to have discovered some important clue about the Cortez brothers. He hung up after saying he would buy drinks later. Then he urgently called Anaïs.

Anaïs carefully placed the papers she had been picking up on the desk and went to him. When she adjusted her crooked glasses and asked if he had called her, he announced with a solemn expression.

“The Cortez brothers used to frequent Everin Street. The bar at number forty-two was their regular spot, and they recently ordered a watch at the clock shop at number eleven.”

He gestured that he should go hear the story. Anaïs quickly brought his coat from the coat rack. It was a wool coat he had paid dearly for a year ago.

The temperature seems high today, so it might be too hot to wear this. Anaïs was about to say but stopped. Since he wore it to show off anyway, the weather didn’t really matter.

“If my wife comes, tell her I went to Everin Street, and oh! If she brings up Fred Junior’s boarding school, please try to persuade her to give up.”