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Dr. G.I. Boleid’s Psychoanalysis – Part 05

“A man with the stench of the underworld came with his subordinate and offered a case related to the Italian mafia?” Kazuya asked, looking extremely puzzled.

In the inner room, Victorique sat on a red swivel chair in her muslin nightgown, puffing on a golden, lizard-shaped pipe, lost in thought. The radios were off, leaving the room quiet, save for the faint crackling of the fireplace. Occasionally, the distant argument from the opposite room could be heard.

Victorique’s damp silver hair shimmered enchantingly. From atop the shelf, the silent radios watched the books and red and purple potpourri scattered on the floor.

Her bewitching, emerald-green eyes stared at Kazuya. “Yes. The men left behind a bullet engraved with a banana. A bullet from a banana machine gun. It was an intimidation tactic typical of the Mafia.”

“So those men were Mafia?”

“Uh… well…” Victorique hesitated, then closed her mouth without saying anything. The look