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Hey, This is the NYPD 82nd Precinct – Part 05

The Daily Road

July 10, 1930, Evening Edition, Page 2

The Challenger’s Ruthless Ballad: Promises to Spill the Champion’s Blood!

Challenger Eddie Sawyer spoke directly to our reporter!

“The fact that the champion is the ex-mayor’s son means nothing to this dangerous challenger.”

“He’s a dunce. A pebble by the roadside.”

“His father is an eggplant. His mother is a watermelon. His friends are spinach.”

“William is no champion. And here’s why…”

“His punches are wilted cabbage.”

“His hooks are salty pickles.”

“He’s nothing more than rice cake nibbled by mice.”

What a foul-mouthed challenger!

New Yorkers eager to hear the challenger’s bold and fresh roars, gather at the Brooklyn Bridge tonight!

“That’s the one I wrote,” Kazuya said.

Victorique came over and started reading the article too. “What in the world? The words I said to you this morning are in the newspaper.”

“Well, it’s a long story.” Kazuya scratched his head. “When I went to the newspaper to put up a missing person notice, they were holding an entry test for new reporters, and I ended up writing this article.”

“What? Did you get the job? The one you’ve been looking for all morning? A job? Job?”

The policemen burst into laughter. “A pebble by the roadside?”

“Eggplant, watermelon, and spinach?”

“Cabbage?”

“You’re Eddie Sawyer, right? You come up with some interesting insults.”

Kazuya and Victorique exchanged puzzled looks, then Kazuya peeked into the next cell. Victorique followed and peered out from beneath him.

Kazuya exclaimed, “Oh!”

The person who had been speaking with a woman’s voice in the next cell was a surprisingly muscular young man. He wore a shabby shirt and cotton pants, and his face bore a large scar.

Looking around nervously, he said, “Uh, did I say something? Gentlemen, what is this about?” His confused voice was the same delicate one from earlier.

Kazuya compared the man’s face with the newspaper. The challenger, Eddie Sawyer, staring at the camera shirtless, with large eyes and a strong jaw. His dark skin and the fierce look he gave the camera matched perfectly with the man next door.

“Eddie Sawyer, the boxer! I thought you were a woman,” Kazuya said in shock.

Eddie Sawyer, embarrassed, replied, “Yeah. People often make fun of my weak voice.” Then, noticing Victorique, he jumped up. “Well, I’ll be! Is this the lady? I thought she was an old woman. Little girl, how old are you?”

“I’m one hundred and twenty years old,” Victorique replied grumpily.

Eddie was inexplicably delighted, even tearing up. “Wow! You look and sound different too. Your voice sounds just like the lady at the manor down South.”

“It’s really him. Eddie Sawyer. He looks just like the photo in the paper,” said one officer.

“What are you doing here? The fight is tonight.”

“I bet five dollars on you winning. Hurry up and pay the bail and get out of here.”

“No wonder. The radio said the challenger had been missing since this morning. He’s been here since he was brought in by the paddy wagon.”

Kazuya finally remembered. “That’s right. I talked to a prisoner in the paddy wagon this morning. So that was you. No wonder the photo in the editorial office looked familiar.”

The challenger bowed his head to the policemen. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. But without bail money, I can’t get out.”

Victorique crossed her arms and pondered, holding the golden pipe. “Hmm. If he’s the challenger Eddie Sawyer, then what is the unsolved case from earlier? Who tricked Eddie so he wouldn’t show up tonight?”

Just then, a small, tanned man hurried up the stairs, shouting, “Hey there! Yoo-hoo!”

One of the policemen stepped out, and the man, holding a crumpled hat in both hands and shuffling his feet, said, “I believe Eddie Sawyer is here. He was arrested for a traffic violation and required to pay a huge bail.”

“Yeah, he’s here. And who might you be?”

“I’m Mitch, his manager.”

Another policeman turned. “I heard you on the radio. You left while the DJ was asking about the situation.”

“Y-Yeah. I was busy gathering bail money.”

Mitch scurried to the cell and found the challenger. Wiping his forehead repeatedly with his hat, he apologized, “Eddie, sorry I’m late.” Then, he banged his head against the iron bars like an angry bull. “That damn rich mayor’s son, William Trayton! He’s been mocking us country folk since we served in the war. Always going on about…”

He threw his chest out to imitate someone.

“My name is William Trayton! I am a proud descendant of the Pilgrim Fathers who founded this great nation!”

“He was an insufferable egomaniac. I can’t believe he stooped to such a dirty trick!”

Eddie Sawyer nodded. He pressed his nose against Mitch’s through the iron bars and started shouting angrily, looking like a completely different person from before.

“That bastard! He must be terrified of facing me in the ring, of meeting his old army mate again!”

“And why is that? Because he’s the culprit in the Christmas Truce Murder? Because he shot his close friend, Luke Jackson, during the chaos?”

“That’s right! I saw it. I saw William kill Luke. I think I saw it.”

From the newspaper on the desk, a photo of the champion, William Trayton, seemed to be watching the two men. Kazuya looked at the page and cocked his head. The image of a refined, handsome man in his mind gradually changed to one of a cold, malicious person.

“I mean, if William wasn’t the culprit, why would he do something this awful to an old comrade?” Eddie said bitterly. “He bribed the cops to tail me and got me arrested this morning for accidentally crossing on a red light. Now I’m stuck in here!”

“Yeah, for a champion, he’s a real scumbag!” Mitch raised his voice again but stopped abruptly. Sitting with his arms crossed, he said, “One thing I noticed. Unlike the South where we grew up, there’s no sheriff in this city. The cops here will do anything if they’re paid off.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” an officer agreed.

“It’s really unfortunate,” another added.

Mitch clenched his fists. “That asshole made them set an outrageous bail. He knows damn well we can’t afford it.”

“What? It’s an outrageous amount? I can’t get out, then! The lady of the house passed away, the young lady took over, and my mom and I had to leave the estate. We have no home, no food, nothing.”

“You can relax, Eddie.”

“What? Mitch, you don’t mean…”

Mitch flashed a full-toothed smile. “I’ve been running around and borrowed some money!”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’ve been stuck with you since the war. Just a clueless hick from the South who didn’t know a thing about boxing, learning from American and German student champions. After you returned home, I saw you train hard to get stronger after seeing your mom tormented by the young lady. That’s the kind of bond we have. I don’t have any redeeming features, so I’m betting my life on your talent. If you win tonight’s match, you’ll be the new champion, and I’ll be a respectable manager. But if you lose, I’ll be drowning in debt.” He shook his head, trying to sound like he was joking. “I’ll be done for!”

“M-Mitch.”

“Actually, I borrowed money from the Italian mafia in Little Italy. From Garbo Boss.”

“I-I can’t believe you did that.”

The policemen chimed in, “What?”

“That’s really bad.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

Mitch, trying to shake off the fear, raised his voice. “It’s a life-or-death gamble! Just like during the war. Remember, Eddie? We were in the middle of terrible battles. Almost everyone died. Even during the Christmas ceasefire. And after I was reassigned to a different unit, I barely survived that gunfight on the Polish border.”

Kazuya looked at Mitch’s face with a start.

“I’m already living on borrowed time. Haha! Besides, I feel scared like back then, but also excited. Don’t sweat the small stuff, Eddie. Tonight’s your big match.”

Mitch pulled out a crumpled wad of bills from his hat and proudly handed it to the policeman. “Officer, here’s his bail money. It’s worth the same as my life,” he said.

The policemen grimly started counting the bills one by one. Everyone watched silently, not a single person uttering a word.

Car horns blared outside, and angry shouts echoed from the first floor. Only the second floor was eerily quiet, as if submerged underwater, distancing the outside world.

They were almost done counting. Mitch watched confidently.

“Worth the same as your life, huh?” the officer said. “Pretty light, then. Money’s just paper, after all.”

Victorique observed everyone’s faces. Mitch’s pale green eyes gleamed with pride.

The officer lifted his gaze, and Mitch’s face lit up.

“Unfortunately, you’re one bill short.”

Silence fell.

Mitch jumped up. “That can’t be! I borrowed enough. I… I…” His shock turned to despair. “I survived the Christmas Truce and the bloody Polish border battle by a miracle. Oh…” He fell to his knees.

An idea sprang into Kazuya’s mind. He gently patted his right thigh, then reached into his pocket. “Um, if this helps,” he said to Mitch, offering a bill. “Please use it.” He placed it on top of the wad.

The policeman nodded and slowly opened the cell door. Eddie Sawyer stepped out.

“Yoo-hoo!” Mitch cried, relieved.

“Let’s go,” Kazuya said.

Victorique, who had been reluctant to leave earlier, trotted after him, pipe in her hand. She was deep in thought.

Kazuya started down the stairs, thinking how suddenly cooperative Victorique was.

As they were about to leave the police station, Mitch called out from behind, “Yoo-hoo! I’ll come thank you later. What’s your name and where do you live?”

Kazuya wrote down the address of the Mushanokouji residence and handed it to Mitch.

“Thanks!” the man said joyfully, and rushed back upstairs.