Baccano! - Volume 14 - Chapter Ep

Digression & Terminal The Linking World

January 1, 1932 Somewhere in New York

“Now you’ve done it, you piece of shit!”

Kicking open the door to the interrogation room, Victor walked in, his face dark with anger.

“What’s the matter?”

“Shut the hell up; you know what’s the matter! That was you, wasn’t it?!”

“What was?”

Huey looked genuinely mystified, and Victor yelled, his temples twitching.

“Turner, that whiskered pig on the Flying Pussyfoot, came to the Bureau to lodge a complaint today! He says I conned him on that train!”

An hour earlier

“I’m telling you, boy, give me the details on a man named Victor Talbot! Public servants are duty-bound to fulfill the requests of an eminent citizen like myself, correct?!”

A fat man with a moustache howled, sending spittle flying. He was dressed from head to toe in designer brands, as if his clothes were wearing him, rather than the other way around.

The man who was helping him tried, as calmly as he could, to make sense of the other man’s statement.

“All right, calm down, please. Erm, what exactly did this Victor Talbot do to you?”

“It was on the Flying Pussyfoot. After that cook and the others ran me out of the dining car, he saw a vulnerable man and took advantage. He called himself Victor, a former member of the Bureau, and he conned me out of my jewels and money! He said he’d protect me and made me pay him to be a bodyguard, and all he did was hand me a shotgun someone had dropped! Dammit! What the hell kind of training did you give him, huh?!”

“…Do you remember what this former agent Victor Talbot looked like?”

“I’ll recognize him if you bring him to me! I know he’s real! I did my research, so you can’t fool me!”

The rotund whiskered man yelled forcefully, and the Bureau employee sighed.

“Haaah… Uh, the thing is, we’ve already brought him to you.”

“Whuh?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Victor Talbot.”

“Wha…?!”

“Now, take your time and tell me exactly what this phony Victor Talbot looked like.”

“And then the gink said he couldn’t really remember the guy’s face, so I had to smile and nod and wish him a lovely, lovely day. Do you have any idea how it feels having to make nice to a scumbag like him? Huh?”

After he’d filled Huey in on what had happened, Victor let him feel the full brunt of his anger.

“I bet you snuck more of your goons onto that train besides the Lemures! Then you had one of ’em use my name to get me in trouble… You must have! Why else would you give my name?!”

“You have a persecution complex, Victor, and you give yourself far too little credit. I do consider you a potential threat, so if I were to malign you, I would be far more ruthless and thorough. A bomb might be involved, at the very least.”

“Wha…?”

It was impossible to tell whether he was being complimented or mocked, but Victor assumed the latter. His fists trembled.

Huey watched him pensively for a while, and then—

“Did you know that two years ago in Germany, they created a machine called an electroencephalograph?”

“Huh?”

Huey had abruptly switched to a completely different topic.

Ordinarily, Victor would have erupted in justifiable anger, but he let the other man continue. Perhaps he had been distracted by the word electroencephalograph.

“It’s a medical instrument with a fascinating concept to its creation: It makes it possible to view the wavelengths inside the human skull. They’ve learned that human minds, thoughts, and even dreams may all be no more than exchanges of electrical signals in the brain. The speed at which civilization evolves is truly fascinating. We’ve finally reached an age in which we can analyze human hearts and souls. Don’t you agree, Victor?”

“What are you getting at?”

“And yet even when humans are beginning to understand themselves on that level, their actual essence hasn’t made much progress. Even the longest human lives are short. I used to wonder if humanity’s resistance to change is because they don’t have the time to absorb and learn from the long history that has built our society.”

“?”

Further confusing Victor, Huey impassively related his own thoughts:

“If all humans became immortal, their physical evolution would stop, but would their spirits evolve? There was a time when I wondered about that as well, but…perhaps a mere three centuries isn’t enough to correct a twisted, malicious character.”

“Yeah, you hit the nail on the head, all right! You’re living proof! Hell, Maiza’s a goddamn gangster, and I might still be able to talk sense into him, but you? I bet not even another thousand years will be enough to straighten out your twisted soul! And between you and Elmer—”

Watching as Victor launched into a loud and endless litany of complaints, Huey brooded privately.

To think he’d take the trouble of using an immortal’s name as his alias.

I imagine he’s about the only one who’d play such a game—and that’s what it is to him.

He hasn’t changed a bit, and no doubt he never will.

No—that bastard will never change.

…Never. Not since he killed Monica.

A few days later New York, Central Park

Two days after the momentous one on which Jacuzzi had encountered Graham’s gang, and Chané and Claire had reunited…

…a man sat on a park bench, skimming a newspaper article.

It was in the Daily Days, issued by one of New York’s lesser newspaper companies.

Suicide or Murder? Aspiring Actor Dies Mysteriously After Fall from Apartment Window

As he read the smaller article, the man murmured to himself.

“Good grief. I thought I’d made it look like an obvious suicide, but these third-rate papers are trouble. They insist on stirring up questions,” the man muttered, sighing.

His behavior was perfectly normal, and he blended completely into the background of the park.

However, what he said was not what most would say in the course of a normal day.

“Maybe I should have come back on another day and sent him to the bottom of the river after all.”

As he murmured, the man neatly folded the paper and slowly got up from the bench.

“Well, that’s all right. I learned that there are lots of playthings in New York, too.”

There was no one around, but the man spoke as if trying to convince himself.

His bangs completely covered both his eyes, and although it was possible to read his expression from his lips, he never let others see what lay behind it.

“What did he say his name was? …Upham? That boy’s stance regarding immortals was rather intriguing.

“If I have him and Czes play together, things may get a bit interesting.”

That same day Fred’s hospital

“ choo!”

Just as he was handing over the payment for his treatment, Upham sneezed powerfully, and Who glanced at him.

“What, got a cold? Want to double back to the exam room and have the doc take a look at you?”

“No, my nose just itched. Besides, sneezing doesn’t make my bad arm hurt anymore. You’ve got a swell doctor here.”

“Yeah, we do. Mr. Fred picks up all sorts of folks who can’t go to most other docs, everybody from dope fiends to hitmen. You’re one of those types yourself, right?”

“…Could be.” Upham let nothing show on his face.

Perplexed, Who muttered, “Actually… Have I seen you somewhere before?”

“I dunno. I don’t think I’m very distinctive.”

After that self-deprecating remark, Upham tacked on another phrase, baiting the other man.

“Just like you.”

A few minutes after Upham had gone, as if to take his place, another man entered.

“Hi there. Is Fred in?”

“Oh. You, huh?”

Without preamble, Who gave the beaming man the report he wanted:

“The doc and I both checked medical files and client addresses and things, but we didn’t turn up anything about that old guy, Szilard.”

“Wow, really? That’s too bad. Fred knows a lot of people, so I thought it might be worth a shot.”

“Well, finding a guy with nothing to go on but his name and age would be a tough one even for the cops. I dunno what you’re after here, but there’s no telling how many years it’s gonna take.”

Who didn’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed, and the other man smiled foolishly.

“Yeah, but no matter how many decades or centuries it takes, I plan to keep searching for him.”

“‘Centuries’? Look, fella…”

It didn’t even work as a joke. Who smiled wryly, and the beaming man shrugged and murmured as if this was the real joke.

“Fortunately, time is the one thing I’ve got.

“It’s also the only thing I’ve got, but anyway…”

Central Park

Now then, if that’s how things stand, I think I’ll leave town for a while.

Tossing the newspaper into a trash can, the man slowly began to walk.

If I stay here, there’s no telling when I might run into that smile junkie pervert again. In that case, I should devote myself to making preparations. The more meticulous the preparations, the more enjoyable the festival.

That’s right… After all, the best parades are loud and garish.

I’ll stay quiet and whet my knife until Huey gets out of prison. That way, I won’t miss my chance to tear into a truly delicious meal.

Up until that point, his musings had remained locked in his heart. However, the last phrase slipped out as audible words, possibly because he’d grown unable to endure the pleasure.

“Who shall I put on the menu…? I’ll think about that after the festival’s begun.”

Heard by no one, the words disappeared into the streets of New York, exuding a hopeless malice into the atmosphere.

The era was beginning to couple the distant past to the present.

The connection was directed by the many histories inscribed by the immortals who lived in all eras—

—and by the humans who lived in each of them.