New Gods of North America

"Hello, my name is Vincent Spaulding, and I am a businessman."

The next afternoon, Wayne, who had rushed to Richmond overnight, met the client in the detective agency's courtyard.

He was a stranger, looked to be in his thirties, not very tall, slightly stout but seemingly agile.

His carriage wasn't particularly eye-catching in a city like Georgeburg, which was full of wealthy people. His clothes, though custom-tailored suits, weren't flashy either.

It wasn't until he sat on the sofa in the reception room and took out a gold and jewel-encrusted cigar box that he suddenly revealed a "nouveau riche" vibe, someone who would spend a fortune in strange places.

"Thank you, I don't smoke."

Wayne glanced at the cigar with the vintage label and politely declined the offer. "I heard from the detective agency's agents that you have valuable items you want us to transport?"

The man didn't light up when Wayne didn't reach for one:

"That's correct. I have several merchant ships under my name and currently operate in the overseas trade."

"Because I have a business deal that requires me to go to the Old World in person, I can't return to Georgia just yet."

"But my wife's birthday is approaching, and I don't want her to miss out on my gift, so I plan to entrust your detective agency to escort the gift to her."

Wayne looked up at the male servant standing behind him, who was holding a box. "I'm curious, what kind of precious and thoughtful gift is it?"

The man snapped his fingers.

The servant respectfully placed the box he was holding on the small table next to the sofa and opened it, facing Wayne.

Wow.

A jeweled necklace.

The pendant part was made up of several large rubies, with bright colors, the size increasing towards the center, and the necklace part looked "sectioned," with each section inlaid with smaller but still quite substantial rubies.

Wayne didn't know how to appraise jewelry, but he at least knew how to "look at the color," "compare the size," and "count the number":

"Your gift looks expensive, your wife will surely be delighted to receive it. May I ask how you learned about our detective agency and were willing to entrust such a valuable item to us for transportation?"

The man seemed nonchalant:

"I've seen reports about your detective agency in the newspaper, saying that you are a reputable and well-known detective agency, and it just so happens that you are in Georgeburg, not far away, so I had someone look you up. As for the price of the necklace... I don't really understand these things. I bought it from a duchess who urgently needed cash, and it cost me 8,000 gold pounds."

Hmm….

Also in the several thousand gold pounds range, Wayne couldn't figure out who was more of a sucker, "the one who bought the stone tablet" or "the one who bought the jeweled necklace."

But according to the current situation, the recipient will definitely not be this man. If the detective agency sends the item over, and the other party says it's been replaced with a fake, then I'll definitely become the biggest sucker.

Wayne suddenly realized the potential risks involved and made up a reason:

"To better protect the safety of our clients' property, and out of caution, our detective agency usually needs to appraise high-value items like this before accepting the commission to avoid accidents."

"If you don't mind, we may need to contact a professional jewelry appraiser before we can take custody of the valuable item."

"But I might be leaving Georgeburg tonight."

The man seemed a little troubled. "My fleet is just passing through Virginia for supplies and won't be staying for long. And I'm willing to trust the reputation of a detective agency that's been featured in the newspaper. You just need to deliver the item on time. Or, if you can find an appraiser quickly, I can wait here for a while."

Wayne thought for a moment, "Please wait, I'll see if there's a solution."

He called Doug, who was waiting outside the reception room door, to temporarily fill in as a waiter, while Wayne walked towards the few independent wooden cabins in the back of the courtyard.

He wondered if Inessa or Lina would know more about this, or if Miss Ovelia, who happened to be visiting them, could help.

Inessa didn't know much about jewelry, and although Lina could basically tell the authenticity and value, she wasn't sensitive enough to market prices, and the error could be significant.

In the end, it was really all thanks to Miss Ovelia for saving the day. According to her assessment, buying that ruby necklace for a few thousand gold pounds was indeed a good deal.

That Mr. Vincent didn't seem to expect the appraiser to arrive so quickly and even complimented Miss Ovelia.

Anyway, although the other party claimed to be living in Atlanta, he didn't even recognize Miss Ovelia of the local Fisk family, but the necklace and the US dollars were at least real.

After Miss Ovelia confirmed it, the delivery address left by the other party was indeed in Atlanta's wealthy neighborhood.

Miss Ovelia only secretly mocked herself, saying, "Perhaps my social circle isn't wide enough," and then playfully stuck out her tongue.

After that, Wayne and the other party signed a simple contract on the spot, which specified the characteristics of the item, the number of jewels, and the latest delivery time, etc.

Mr. Vincent was a relatively generous employer, not requiring any compensation clauses, and the small box containing the $2,000 reward was directly retrieved from the carriage by the male servant.

In addition, there was a family letter, which said that if the item could be delivered on time, the other party's wife would also give a final payment.

Compared to money, Mr. Vincent was clearly more concerned about whether his gift could be delivered on time, and clearly hoped that the detective agency could send a sufficiently strong and reliable security team.

After hearing that Wayne, the head of the detective agency, could not personally escort the item, he was slightly disappointed, but he accepted the arrangement for other partners of the detective agency to escort it.

Then, everyone was happy.

Wayne respectfully sent the client to the outside of the detective agency's office warehouse and then began to arrange manpower according to the plan.

As for the church, they didn't provide a better solution to the scope of application of the license.

David Mills said he didn't have the authority to send interstate missions.

Tom Hagen told Wayne last night that the management between different dioceses was independent of each other, and even the chief archbishop of the church had no right to forcibly intervene in some local affairs.

Even judging from his meaning, he seemed a little unwilling for Wayne to arrange for too many agents to leave Virginia.

Wayne had originally given up the idea of accepting the commission, but when he walked into the prayer hall of the cathedral, he unexpectedly ran into Bishop Corleone, who was alone in contemplation in front of the huge Holy Spirit emblem.

After Bishop Corleone roughly understood the situation, he gave a different answer:

"Being too concerned about protection will only make it your shackles."

"And you all seem to have misunderstood one thing—the license is actually no different from other pieces of paper with words or numbers written on them, and it only works for those who recognize it."

"If you regard it as armor, you may eventually be shocked to see it easily pierced by the enemy. Its correct usage may be as a primer, and then lightly thrown under the pyre tied to the enemy."

Wayne pondered the bishop's words and tentatively wanted to confirm, "If people in other dioceses don't recognize it, can our detective agency members resist?"

Bishop Corleone chuckled and slowly walked away from Wayne:

"Most old people have good tempers and won't quarrel over children's fights, let alone go to other people's homes to argue. But if you can't even run home when you're being bullied, or if you always lose every fight, then such a child may never have a chance to grow up."

Wayne felt that he understood.

Even wanted criminals know to cross state lines to escape pursuit, and the detective agency, as the nemesis of criminals, should of course run faster than them.