Dogs Among Withered Roses - Chapter 19

Berenice quietly curled her lips in a mocking smile, thinking it was a miracle Erkin hadn’t noticed.

John Baker asked cautiously, “Shall I continue the surveillance?”

“No, this is enough.”

Berenice shook her head with a somewhat weary expression. It wasn’t like she was trying to catch a husband cheating. Following him around for nearly a month was already more than enough. What more was there to watch here?

Ricardo’s instruction to keep a close eye on the desperate Erkin had been nagging at her, so she only wanted to check whether there really was a suspicious background or something shady that might raise doubts. It wasn’t because Berenice was particularly curious about him.

If it were someone who approached her to swindle her like Russo, then it would be different. But Erkin was still a member of the Valentiera Family….

Besides, ever since last weekend, Berenice had been deliberately keeping some distance from Erkin, and she didn’t feel very comfortable about any of this. Of course, they were never especially close to begin with, but at least back then he didn’t get an erection just because their lips crushed together or the heel of her shoe brushed his groin a few times….

Yet here she was ordering a background investigation while supposedly keeping her distance.

Even though she was the one who commissioned it, it made her feel as if she had become some immature girl who pretended not to care about someone on the surface while secretly paying attention to everything about them behind their back.

As if she cared. Who was worrying about whom? Ridiculous.

“What about the other matter? You must have one more thing to report.”

Berenice straightened her upper body after leaning toward the sofa table and asked. The purpose of meeting John Baker on the last day of every month wasn’t just to hear the results of the investigation into Erkin’s background.

“That….”

As soon as the question ended, John Baker’s complexion darkened even more than before. That gloomy expression alone already answered the question, but Berenice pretended not to notice and waited for him to speak.

“I’m very sorry.”

“I didn’t pay you that money just to hear you say you’re sorry. It’s been years now and you still aren’t earning your fee.”

“….”

“This makes things difficult….”

When Berenice crossed her arms as if to say he should speak freely if he had something to say, the private detective immediately seized the opportunity to begin making excuses.

“There’s simply too little information. Too much time has passed as well. With only two names and an address from fifteen years ago….”

“That’s exactly why I hired you, Mr. Baker.”

“I know, I do know. I understand that very well… but since disappearing fifteen years ago, there has been no activity under that name, no records at all. They probably changed their name, or bought the identity of someone who died and are living under it.”

“What if they changed it to their mother’s maiden name? I heard some cases even trace back to the grandmother’s maiden name.”

“I’ve already tried all of that.”

Of course he had. If the thought occurred to her, there was no way a private detective wouldn’t know it. Smiling as if admitting she had misspoken, Berenice considered another possibility she didn’t want to imagine.

“Then you’ll have to find another method. Have you considered the possibility that they entered the witness protection program?”

“…If they entered witness protection, they won’t be found through ordinary connections. The federal government has been managing the witness protection program extremely strictly for the past few years. Even if I’m a former police officer, that area isn’t easy to touch… it will require much more time and effort.”

That would make sense. She knew that well.

The witness protection program came to be classified as state-level confidential information and placed under strict federal control largely because of the Valentiera Family. Berenice opened another file and stared quietly at a photograph inside.

It was a picture of a young girl being held in her parents’ arms.

In the palm-sized black-and-white photograph, the girl’s smile was bright and untouched by wear. The look in Berenice’s eyes was completely different from when she looked at Erkin’s photo, and John Baker’s face grew even darker at his failure to meet the client’s request. Berenice’s lips trembled slightly as she set the photograph down, then slowly parted.

“There doesn’t seem to be any progress at all, so you should consider expanding the search beyond the border now.”

“…Beyond the border?”

Bridgent is already famous for its vast land area, and now she’s telling him to search other countries as well? John Baker asked again in surprise, as if wondering whether she truly meant it.

Berenice pointed to the girl in the photograph. “This girl’s father disappeared without a trace. They call it a disappearance, but you know he was murdered, Mr. Baker. If a wife sensed her husband’s death after he vanished and fled with their only daughter, she would have tried to survive even if it meant crossing the border, whether she had connections or not.”

Berenice’s eyes sharpened with conviction as she said, “So find them by any means necessary. If they’re already dead, then at least find where this mother and daughter are buried.”

“May I ask why you’re going this far?”

“You’ve already asked, and now you’re asking whether you may ask?”

Berenice let out a hollow laugh as if the question was absurd, but she didn’t look offended. Was it two years ago that she first called John Baker for this request? If her memory was correct, it would soon be three. This year marked three years since Antonio Abel Valentiera died.

For a moment, she seemed to choose her words carefully, yet the answer she finally gave was short and simple.

“I’m just curious how they’re living.”

This time, John Baker let out a hollow laugh instead. Did she really expect him to believe that someone with a face on the verge of collapsing was searching simply out of curiosity about how they were living?

But Berenice seemed not to expect his belief anyway, forming a playful smile instead. The smile was almost forced, yet even that was enough to ease the atmosphere somewhat, and John Baker seized the chance to add something.

“It may sound like an excuse, but if they still can’t be found after searching this thoroughly, someone must be helping them. Whether they entered witness protection or not, it’s not something a mother and daughter could manage alone.”

Berenice uncrossed her legs and gave a small nod, slowly gathering the photographs on the table.

“I only said that earlier because it came to mind, but I agree that someone helped them. However, they probably didn’t use the witness protection program. They never stood in court, and….”

Because they couldn’t trust that protection.

The person who handed over the new name, address, workplace, school, and other information of a witness and his family, who were under strict protection before giving the decisive testimony that would determine the verdict in a murder case, was none other than the husband and father of this mother and daughter.

Blinded by money, he sold out the witness he personally managed along with the entire family. In the end, he himself became the final target for eliminating evidence, and his body was never found.

Life is ironic. Anyway.

“Find them. I’ll pay as much as necessary, just like before.”

After handing over the prepared bag and money, Berenice pressed her temple. As soon as her thoughts grew complicated after so long, a headache surged in.

She wondered how many painkillers were left in the desk drawer when Michele, who had been standing outside the private office, knocked lightly on the door. John Baker, who was collecting the bag of money, turned his head sharply.

They could hear Michele greeting someone. It seemed Erkin had arrived as his shift was nearing its change. After neatly clearing away every trace of the background investigation just in time, Berenice lowered her voice.

“See you in a month, on the last day of March. Thank you for your hard work.”

Although she must have been quite disappointed with the unimpressive results that weren’t worth the money, Berenice smiled with practiced ease.

As always, it was a smile that seemed indifferent yet gentle.

***

Erkin Lafayette didn’t come alone.

John Baker, who had taken the bag of money and stepped out of Berenice’s private office, glanced at the man blocking his path like a wall and the woman standing beside him. The woman with short blond hair that suited her well was a face he knew.

Cecilia Castillo, head of the Castillo Family.

He’d heard she finally won the lawsuit that had tormented her for several years after the divorce. Even the simple act of leaning against the wall gave off a languid ease that seemed to stretch lazily.

John Baker offered halfhearted condolences to Cecilia’s ex-husband, who had poured every cent he possessed into legal fees just to win against his former wife and now looked as if he would end up on the street.

If the rumors he heard were true, the person who quietly siphoned off Cecilia’s personal assets through offshore accounts in Linferno and several businesses, preventing an unreasonable division of property, was none other than one of his own clients, Berenice Valentiera.

No wonder the ex-husband was completely ruined.

Erkin, who briefly glanced inside the office where the door stood open, lightly gestured as if telling Cecilia to enter first. John looked up slightly at the man standing across from him as if in a silent confrontation.

For nearly a month, he’d followed Erkin everywhere he went and taken countless photographs whenever he moved even a little. Because of that, John thought he knew him better than anyone.

But from this moment on, he felt he might need to revise that judgment.

Of course, there was no disagreement that his appearance was far too good to waste on a life as a mafia member. However, when seen from afar with the naked eye or through a high‑magnification camera lens, his body looked merely lean and sharp. Seeing him up close gave a completely different impression.

His height forced even a grown man to lift his head to look at him, and his naturally large frame made people shrink back for no reason even when he simply stood still.

Meeting the sharp yet delicate features that looked as if a god had carefully carved them, John Baker felt a strange urge to bow deeply. Pretending nothing was wrong, he merely inclined his head politely in greeting and glanced at Erkin’s long, well‑shaped hand.

It was a hand that smelled of blood. There was no disagreement about that either.