Even though she could see plainly what a nuisance being an owner would be, Ais thought about the convenience a dog with a sharp nose would provide — and about the fact that she'd now have to spend considerable time at home waiting for clients. She decided to act on the idea the same day, went out, and came back less than two hours later with a healthy, ordinary-breed corgi puppy she'd paid 4 pounds for.
On the way home, she held the four-month-old pup in her arms and fed it treats from the pet shop as she commented:
"I would never have imagined just from looking at these adorable short legs that corgis were originally bred to herd cattle."
Looking at the classic red-and-white coloring — thoroughly cute and compact — Ais found it genuinely difficult to picture this puppy, once grown, controlling a herd by barking and nipping at hooves.
Back at the house, Ais went upstairs to her bedroom and set the little corgi down, put together a bed for it in the corner, then placed the puppy — which was cautiously nosing around the new environment — inside and gave it a piece of dried chicken to keep it occupied while it got used to the place.
Stroking the small head with one hand, Ais murmured:
"What should I name you? Hmm… A gambling addict is still a dog, after a fashion. So how about 'Big Idiot'? No, actually you should be smarter than him. Let's call you 'Big One.' That works — haha…"
Having registered that the puppy was female, Ais was still laughing at her own joke. Big One showed no objection to the name, which settled it.
The following days, aside from going out to buy groceries and experimenting with cooking, Ais devoted her energy to Big One — playing with her, teaching her the all-important skill of going to the toilet in one designated spot, and preventing her from chewing up the furniture.
At four months old, the puppy was at peak curiosity — wanting to bite everything — and also in the middle of teething. Left unsupervised without something appropriate to gnaw on, the furniture would suffer.
Three days later, the morning of April 13th. Ais was following Big One around after breakfast, watching her — without any prompting — slowly make her way to the washroom and produce a tidy offering.
"Well done, little one. Three days and you've learned to use the toilet. Good thing I didn't call you Big Idiot after all."
Ais said this while patting the small head approvingly. The position wasn't quite perfect yet, but that was a problem solved by a bucket of water — no use being too exacting.
Two short barks, and then Big One was back to circling Ais's feet, occasionally giving her toes a gentle nip.
"That's not being a good dog, Big One." Ais scooped her up and headed for the ground floor, planning to open the door and collect the morning paper.
"Come to think of it, this is the fourth day. I should check in with Ian and see if he has anything."
Big One's arrival had been keeping Ais home in the evenings all week — hard to slip out to the Brave Men's Bar with a puppy who still had no sense of security.
She was halfway down the stairs when the front doorbell rang.
"A commission already? This fast?"
Somewhat surprised, Ais went to the door with the puppy in her arms.
The person who had rung the bell was a woman with a decent figure. A wide-brimmed hat with a hanging black fine-mesh veil obscured her face. Her dress was in deep, muted tones — deliberately understated.
"Good morning, ma'am. A pleasure to meet you and the thin fog on this fine street."
The woman visibly relaxed and asked, confirming:
"You're Detective Ais Fal?"
Something's a little off. Ais nodded and stepped aside:
"That's right. If you're not in a hurry, please come in. We can sit down and you can tell me about the commission."
The woman silently entered the sitting room and sat on the sofa.
"Would you like something to drink, ma'am?" Ais asked with a professional smile, puppy still in arms.
The woman shook her head and removed her hat. Her face was young — and thoroughly worried — but she made no move to speak.
No missing person of importance then. Seeing the woman show no immediate signs of starting, Ais sat down on the opposite sofa and stroked Big One's ears while asking:
"How should I address you, ma'am?"
"Ah — sorry, Detective Fal. My name is Bella Novak." Novak kept her head low and still showed no intent to continue.
What on earth. Did you get pregnant before marriage and you don't even know who the father is, and you want me to help find him? Novak's silence was puzzling. Ais waited a moment longer, then broke it:
"Miss Novak, what is it you'd like to commission me for?"
Then she watched this woman wordlessly demonstrate the precise definition of "wanting to say something and thinking better of it" several times over before she finally gathered herself and said rapidly:
"I want to hire you to make contact with my fiancé."
What kind of 'contact' are we talking about here. Ais stopped petting the dog and looked at the deflated Novak with a raised eyebrow:
"Miss Novak — I'm not sure I understand what you mean."
Novak kept her head low, but at least kept talking this time:
"Detective Fal, here's the situation. My wedding with Callum Grant is approaching, but my friends have gradually been noticing that my fiancé seems to be having intimate contact with another woman.
Strangely, when I hired a private detective to investigate his movements, everything appeared entirely normal. At times, when he was visibly at home on the balcony having a cigarette, my friends would be seeing him somewhere else, kissing an unfamiliar woman.
At first I assumed my friends were simply mistaken, or playing a trick on me. But then it wasn't just one friend — multiple people had similar experiences. More importantly, I've started feeling that he's grown cold toward me — that he doesn't love me the way he used to."
Novak continued, increasingly frantic, twisting her fingers:
"I genuinely don't know what to do anymore. His movements are entirely normal. Yet my friends keep seeing him somewhere else. My parents notice no change in him whatsoever. But I can clearly feel he's not the same with me…"
Ais watched Novak gradually lose her voice and become unable to continue. She handed over a tissue and helped supply the rest:
"So you came to the idea of hiring a female detective to make contact with him — to confirm whether all of this is real, or just something you've imagined?"
"Thank you." Novak nodded and dabbed at the corner of her eye.
This really looks like pre-wedding anxiety and insecurity. Though in a world with supernatural power, one can't jump to that conclusion. Looking at Novak's somewhat unstable emotional state, Ais chose her words:
"I understand what you're asking, Miss Novak. But I'm better at investigation and if needed physical confrontation than at charming men. You've seen what I look like — your fiancé is unlikely to be interested in me. So I think a standard investigation would serve better."
Since placing the advertisement, Ais had been keeping her disguise on at all times during the day — from finishing breakfast until going to bed — in case a client showed up.
"You don't need to worry about that, Detective Fal. A little makeup to cover the freckles is all that's needed. My fiancé pays far more attention to figure than to face. He even told me openly that what he first noticed about me was that. Otherwise I wouldn't be bringing this to you. And I've already hired many detectives to investigate — I don't actually expect you to find anything surprising."
But I don't want to do this. This is nothing like the detective career I envisioned. Ais frowned, about to say something more.
"I'm willing to offer 10 pounds, Detective Fal."
Author's Note (this chapter):Ais had realized that the puppy was female, and couldn't hold back a laugh. Since Big One had no objections, the name was settled.
For a female dog, call her Lewinsky.Author reply to : I see what you mean. Understood.