Klein met Jurgen Cooper in an office of the Rice Police Station. The young senior solicitor was still dressed very formally, as if ready at any moment to attend a high-society banquet.
His double-breasted black tailcoat, stiff-collared white shirt, generous bow tie, and shiny leather boots made the police treat him with great courtesy.
Jurgen held a half-top silk hat. His blue eyes looked at Klein and said:
"All the paperwork is done. You can pay the ten-pound bail and leave."
"Thank you." Klein didn't say much. He followed the good-looking but rigid-feeling lawyer Jurgen to the police station's finance office, took out his wallet, and pulled out two five-pound notes.
At this moment, he was exceptionally glad he had brought all his cash—ninety-five pounds—with him; otherwise, he might have had to borrow from his good neighbor Jurgen.
Of course, the most serious issue was that if the cash had been left at home, after the police's on-site search, Klein had no confidence in how much would be left. Yet he couldn't put it up on the Gray Fog either, because he might ultimately have to use a bribe to get out.
Currently, many newspapers and magazines were constantly defaming the police, accusing them of lacking oversight, acting crudely, being riddled with corruption, frequently resorting to extortion, and being fierce and ruthless. Klein dared not fully believe it, but he dared not disbelieve it either. After all, the money found on Mersault might very well have ended up with the people in this very station.
Upon paying the bail, Klein followed Jurgen out of the police station and shuddered as the damp, cold wind hit his face.
"After the case is settled, your bail will be returned to you. Of course, you can't expect them to notify you on their own. Hmm... After a week, if no one comes to take you back to the station, you can come here to claim the bail. Theoretically, you could even receive compensation from the other party's estate, if there is one." Jurgen walked towards a carriage parked nearby.
The persistent drizzle of the day had finally stopped at night, but the crimson moon was still concealed by dark clouds, and the streets were only lit by the glow of gas lamps.
"Alright." Klein almost thought the ten pounds were gone for good.
He couldn't help but calculate Ian's commission. The reward was five pounds, but many pieces of furniture and tea sets in the room had been broken. He had to buy new ones or get them repaired, plus the cost of materials, the carriage fare, and the upcoming clothing repairs. It seemed likely he would end up losing money...
If these ten pounds of bail money couldn't be recovered, the loss would be huge! Hmm... The Beyonder characteristic Mersault left behind was worth quite a lot of money... Klein boarded the carriage, frowning slightly.
He had always thought that a private detective who used his own home as an office would, at worst, just have no commissions, not that he would run at a loss. And yet...
Klein turned his head to look at the properly seated lawyer Jurgen and said sincerely:
"Thank you. Thank you for taking the initiative to bail me out. How much should I pay you for this?"
Jurgen nodded formally:
"This one is on the house."
"I heard about your situation from Sheriff Fasgin. I believe we have many opportunities for cooperation in the future."
Many opportunities for cooperation in the future... Klein couldn't help but laugh:
"Lawyer Jurgen, I think you are cursing me."
Jurgen shook his head solemnly:
"No, that's not what I meant. It's perfectly normal for a private detective to have a regular cooperating lawyer."
Mister, you really have no sense of humor... Though you look very young... Klein grumbled internally, then smiled:
"As it happens, I was looking for a lawyer to help me draft an investment contract."
"An investment contract?" Jurgen asked back with a slightly surprised tone.
"I know this isn't a typical side job for a private detective, but I happen to have encountered a good investment opportunity." Klein explained briefly, "Lawyer Jurgen, according to your fee schedule, how much would a contract like this cost?"
"It's generally determined by the total amount and complexity of the contract." Jurgen replied rigorously.
"The total amount is one hundred pounds. The required clauses include..." Klein described his needs in detail, including preemptive rights, veto rights, etc.
Jurgen thought seriously for a few minutes and said:
"Two pounds. I'll have it ready for you on Monday morning."
"Alright." Klein didn't dwell on the matter any further, instead asking Jurgen about any news he had gathered regarding the case that night.
On the way back to Minsk Street, Klein proactively paid the three-Soule carriage fare, bid farewell to the young but serious lawyer, and walked towards his house.
Opening the door and stepping inside, seeing the scene of utter chaos, Klein felt utterly exhausted.
The start of his private detective career was actually a loss.
Just as Klein took off his coat and dove into cleaning up the mess, the doorbell suddenly rang.
He opened the door in puzzlement and saw the neighbor's maid, Julien, wearing a black-and-white dress.
"Hello, Mr. Moriarty. Mr. and Mrs. Summer invite you over to talk about what happened earlier." Julien said, looking a little scared.
Here it comes... The issue of compensation... Klein put on a smile and said:
"Alright."
He changed into a clean, undamaged coat and followed the maid next door. Luke Summer and his wife Starlene Summer were waiting in the living room, sitting on the sofa.
Luke, who was burly and sported two handsome mustaches, stood up, extended his hand, and said with a low chuckle:
"Good evening, Mr. Moriarty. I can't believe I only just found out you're a private detective. What a lousy neighbor I am."
"No, it's my own problem. I don't even know if I'm suited for this profession. Maybe I'll look for another job at some point." Klein shook hands with the host. "I'm very sorry about tonight. I'll make it up to you."