After being nagged again, Lina decisively changed the subject, "Didn't you go out to investigate a case with Inessa? Why are you back so soon?"
Wayne nodded, "Of course, I have something for you and Parker. Speaking of which, where's Parker? I didn't see him in the back kitchen just now."
Lina tilted her head towards downstairs, "He should be in the basement tidying up tonight's ingredients. There was too much dust when we were knocking on the wall just now, so we need to find a place to prepare in advance."
Wayne had also finished making his presence known to the potential client and turned to leave, "Then I'll go find him downstairs."
"Wait, didn't you say you had something for me too? What do you want to do?" Lina asked, and Miss Olivia's gaze had already turned towards them.
Hmm…
Although it wasn't exactly legal, it wasn't something that couldn't see the light of day...
Hiding it from Miss Olivia now might even cause a gratuitous drop in favorability with the potential client.
Wayne pondered for a moment and told the truth: "I just met the real 'culprit' in that case. He's willing to tell the truth, but there's also a mastermind hiding behind the scenes, who seems to be a big shot.
"He should have a letter from the mastermind. If we ask him for it directly, he probably won't give it to us and might even choose to destroy it. I hope you can get the letter out without alarming him. We'll look at the content first and see if we can extract more valuable clues."
Lina's eyes shifted slightly, "Is the security there tight?"
Wayne: "Just an ordinary small gang, not many people, and they're all ordinary people. Although they hide some weapons like lever-action rifles, the danger shouldn't be too high. The main thing is to try and maintain the status quo to avoid an overreaction from them."
"That's simple," Lina continued to sniff the perfume sprayed on her wrist. "It just so happens that I can take Liam and Chameleon with me. It's also time for Willie to get some real combat experience."
After speaking, Lina also extended her right wrist towards Miss Olivia: "I still prefer this one, the middle notes are softer, do you want to smell it?"
Miss Olivia first picked up a small bag of coffee beans from the table and sniffed them twice, then she leaned her face closer.
However, she didn't comment on the perfume, but instead asked another question:
"What case are you investigating now? Wasn't the assassination case already solved? And why do you need to steal letters from a gang?"
Wayne wasn't sure if the list Father Tyrrell gave him counted as "confidential," but it was best for such things to be "understood by those who understand," and to avoid mentioning them to uninformed people as much as possible.
So he slightly rephrased the content, "We've been investigating a new case these past two days—there was a problematic murder case in Richmond before, and the convicted killer was wrongly accused. We're now trying to clear the innocent person's name, which also serves to comfort the deceased's soul."
Miss Olivia's eyes lit up: "Overturning a case for an innocent person, and finding the real culprit in just two days, that sounds amazing.
"I originally thought the newspapers were exaggerating, but it turns out you really are those 'great detectives' the news talks about. The professors at the academy were still asking each other just two days ago who discovered 'fingerprints' and 'bloodstains'."
Wayne felt a little guilty from the praise, "It's not quite like that..."
After saying that, he gave Lina a look, signaling her to be mindful of what shouldn't be said, "Lina is also aware of this case. You two can chat slowly, let her tell you the details."
...
Finding Parker in the basement, the chef was currently whipping cream, which was in an ice bowl over water, into a foamy consistency.
His arm stirred at a steady, rapid pace, but his face was expressionless, giving people a sense of "tirelessness" that felt a little unsettling.
America had not yet reached the stage of "industrial ice making" at this time, but the natural ice trade along the East Coast was already mature. People would cut out large, thick blocks of ice from northern lakes in winter and preserve them using cellars and sawdust.
Although it sounds a bit exaggerated, in fact, with proper preservation, the loss of ice was less than people imagined. Not only had large cities along the East Coast achieved "year-round ice use," but even in midsummer, ice ships would sail all the way south, allowing people to drink iced beverages on tropical beaches.
It's just that the price wasn't very cheap. In New York City, a pound of ice cost at least 2 cents on average, while in the South, each pound could be priced in "dollars." The hotter the weather and the further south, the more expensive it became.
Ordinary households could only consume small amounts, occasionally buying a small piece to hold in their mouths, but wealthy individuals and large estate owners could have it year-round. In addition to preserving food and chilling drinks, they would even put the less clean parts into ice buckets and place them in the corners of ballroom halls for summer cooling—Wayne guessed that perhaps the young lady wanted to eat ice cream or something today.
However, Wayne wasn't there to peek at tonight's menu.
Meeting the chef's gaze, he began to inquire, "Parker, do you have any preliminary products for the starch sausages and luncheon meat I asked you to research earlier?"
Parker stopped what he was doing, pointed to a shelf behind him, and then began to reply: "I just made some test batches today, but the taste and texture don't seem ideal, and I'm considering whether to change to a different dish."
Wayne took the opportunity to grab a spoon from the side and scooped a spoonful from the ice bowl. It was alright, not too sweet. Then he went to get the large plate the chef was pointing to and cut a slice with a dining knife.
He put it in his mouth and tasted it, hmm... no good.
The so-called "ham sausage" and "luncheon meat" are essentially foods made by mixing minced meat and starch into a paste, then heating it over water to solidify it.
It wasn't that the chef didn't make it delicious, but Wayne could guess from the taste and texture of the meat that the meat content must be quite high, and with labor costs, the cost might even be more expensive than meat.
Wayne immediately gave Parker feedback: "This isn't the 'luncheon meat' I want. I hope what you make should be something that, while barely having a 'meaty texture and taste,' has the lowest possible cost, rather than a specialty dish for banquets—of course, we can occasionally make some of those for ourselves later."
Parker stopped what he was doing again, seemingly a bit confused, "This contradicts Miss Lina's requirement of 'pursuing deliciousness in dishes.'"
"No, no, no."
Wayne wasn't entirely clear on Parker's specific working principles, so he could only try to correct him like training an AI:
"Although the food conditions at our Detective Agency are slightly better, in situations where meat is scarce and the minimum supply is relatively large, making luncheon meat as delicious as possible can also be considered a 'pursuit of deliciousness.' I hope the price of the finished product you make will be at least half cheaper than pork on the market, ideally around one-third."
The chef paused for a moment, but thankfully, he seemed to have finally understood. "But if I do that, it seems unlikely the finished product could be 'delicious'…"
Wayne used his ultimate move, trying to continue to refine: "My personal taste is unique; I just like it that way."
Unexpectedly, Parker accepted it very smoothly this time, quickly nodding, "Indeed. For Mr. Wayne, who likes to season with holy water, it's not surprising to pursue unique flavors of gourmet food."
Wayne: ...
Alright, you're the chef, you're right.
Wayne had previously felt that the gang ecosystem in the Dock Area was "unhealthy" because they essentially did not engage in production. In the eyes of the big figures, they occupied an ecological niche similar to "community police," allowing areas that could not be managed or were too troublesome to manage not to become too chaotic.
Wayne had no experience in social governance, but he had seen news about "gang suppression" or "rehabilitation." If there were legitimate livelihoods that some of these people could participate in, wouldn't there be fewer people living by "deviant means"?
Furthermore, if cheap food could be sold to the Dock Area, then in a sense, the purchasers could also be considered "clients" of the Detective Agency.
Whether by the rules of the "white path" or the "black path," "protecting clients" is a unilateral and reasonable action that meets the entry conditions for "cricket fighting," and should not be considered an "overstepping" act in the eyes of major powers.
Some gang members also like to "start businesses," right?
Let's all "develop sustainably" together, and then I'll start poaching your people.
