Baccano! - Volume 17 - Chapter SS

Epilogue (Back)

The Seductive Smile of the Affluent

2003 A Maritime History museum, somewhere on the American East Coast

The museum director had finished describing the violence between the House of Dormentaire and the Mask Makers that took place in 1711.

Once again, he turned to look at the young man, Jean-Pierre Accardo’s descendant. His expression was serious.

“We did want to speak with you…but not just because Jean-Pierre’s name was mentioned in the report.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jean-Pierre Accardo seems to have been out of town during this time, due to certain circumstances. But afterward, he turned Lotto Valentino’s 1711 disturbance into a play.”

“…Ah.”

The young man had anticipated this, but he was once again appalled at his ancestor’s audacity.

“What kind of information network did he have? According to the sources here, he was in contact with several of the Dormentaire spies. Do you have any ideas…?”

“The one thing I can say is that… I’d rather not speak badly of my own ancestor, but as a human being, Jean-Pierre Accardo was a real scumb—”

Just as he was about to insult a member of his family, the door of the reception room opened.

“Director.”

“What is it?! I’m with a guest!” The director frowned at the receptionist, who had burst into the room—and his frown only deepened when he heard the rest.

“It’s the FBI. They want us to give them the materials from the Advena Avis…”

“I retrieved the documents that were left on the Advena Avis, sir.”

The blond, bespectacled agent—a woman named Jessica Sullivan—stowed a box of papers in the back seat, then took her place in the driver’s seat.

Meanwhile, the man, also wearing glasses, who was sitting on the passenger side kicked back in his seat.

“Okay, nice work. Anything to report?”

“Actually, yes. The director was with a guest who had a connection to Lotto Valentino.”

The man in the passenger seat abruptly leaned forward. “What?”

As cold as ice, Jessica explained, “He was a descendant of Jean-Pierre Accardo, apparently.”

“Jean-Pierre…? Ohhh, yeah, yeah, the poet! Never did meet that guy. Dammit. I’d bet you dollars to donuts that guy knew something.”

“I did get his name and address. If you have questions, I’ll contact him.”

“…How the hell’d you manage that when he ain’t even local? Look, you can’t just pry your intel outta people these days, at least not without a warrant.”

Her worried boss seemed to be implying that such things hadn’t always been a problem.

Jessica kept wearing a frigid expression. “I can be terribly charming when I want to be, sir.”

“Christ, Jessica, have some shame. You can’t just…” The man sighed a bit uncomfortably and grumbled. “Now, your granddad, he was a proper cop. How the hell did we end up with you…? Well, never mind that. Anything else to report?”

“As for noteworthy discoveries… There is one thing I’d like to confirm with you.”

“What?”

Jessica looked serious, and the man turned to face her with similar gravitas.

Still unsmiling, Jessica adjusted her glasses smartly and asked, “From now on, when I submit reports to you, Deputy Director, may I begin them with ‘Hey, how’ve you been? Have you been lonely without me and my letters?’”

At that, her boss—Victor Talbot—stared back in shock for a moment. Then he flushed beet red and shouted, “What the—? The hell is wrong with you?! You read those?! Goddammit—! Wait, I left my reports on the maritime fortress! How the hell did copies end up on that ship?!”

“I hear they were discovered in the cabin of a passenger named Elmer.”

“The fucking smile junkie! He just took my stuff without asking!” Victor was trembling with anger.

“With all due respect,” Jessica offered, “he may have been trying to help you by bringing your belongings to the ship…”

“Well, seeing as he never gave them to me, he did a fucking bang-up job of that, didn’t he?! Aaaaaaah, forget all of this! That’s an order! Got it?!”

“Was this Lady Lucrezia more attractive than me?”

“She sure as hell was! She was a hundred times better than you!”

“What are they screaming about in there?” muttered the young man.

After promising to talk with the director again, he had come outside and heard angry yelling from a car.

That’s the FBI agent from earlier in the driver’s seat, isn’t it?

As he was walking along, lost in thought, he bumped into the woman in front of him.

“……” The woman staggered.

“Oh— I’m sorry!”

Without thinking, he reached out and caught her hand in an attempt to keep her from falling.

That was when he noticed the thick bandages around her right hand.

When he took a closer look, it wasn’t just her arm. Her face was half covered with bandages as well. The woman herself seemed to be about twenty.

“……”

She was gazing into the distance, and her mouth opened and shut soundlessly. The young man wasn’t sure how to react, but—

“Oh dear, dear, I’m so sorry. She was in an accident, and she’s never fully recovered from the shock.” Another woman came over to them and apologized.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it.”

Whoa… These two make quite a pair.

The woman’s daring clothes exposed far too much of her cleavage and legs for the museum’s sober atmosphere. Flustered by her oddly captivating voice and beautiful face, the young man apologized and beat a hasty retreat.

After she’d watched him go, the flamboyant woman’s eyes drifted to the FBI vehicle, where Victor was still shouting.

“Honestly! I’m so close, and you still haven’t noticed, darling. You are as obtuse as always, Victor.”

“……”

“Well, it has been close to three hundred years. He may have forgotten what I look like.”

The woman who had left the FBI an anonymous tip about the immortal-related documents at the museum looked at the agent who had come to investigate, and she gave a mocking giggle. She turned to the bandaged girl beside her.

“Do you suppose Elmer and Fermet will remember you?”

“……! ……!”

Though she hadn’t said any proper words—the bandaged girl smiled happily at those two names.

However, even the eye-catching woman, Lucrezia de Dormentaire, couldn’t be sure which name she’d responded to.

When the girl heard those names, a scene rose in her memories, one that began with a certain sound.

Back in 1711, in that basement room, she’d heard a click.

It hadn’t been the sound of the bombs activating.

A hidden door at the back of the passage had opened, and a buxom, bespectacled woman had appeared.

Just as the woman took her through that hidden door, the bombs had detonated.

Heat, suffocation, pain, and after that—darkness.

Remembering what was objectively a near-death experience, the girl with the shattered mind smiled.

In her memories, she was dying over and over, and that was why she’d tried to smile.

By now, even she didn’t know who she was smiling for.

Obtain the liquor of immortality.

That had been the order Lucrezia had given her alchemists.

Szilard had completely ignored her, and Victor had sent her a letter instead: You tricked me, you wench! How dare you make me worry! Mark my words, you’ll be sobbing with regret someday! A few years later, a sample had arrived from Fermet, but by that time, Lucrezia had already become immortal.

Huey and Elmer, as if they’d planned it together, had sent the liquor of immortality to her using the same method. They hadn’t analyzed it and made it themselves; they’d only drunk half of their portion and saved the rest in another vessel. They’d sent those vessels to Lucrezia, just as they were.

She knew that a mere mouthful would be enough, so she’d drunk what she’d received from Huey herself and given what she’d received from Elmer to other people.

And that included the woman with her now. Hugging the woman to her side, Lucrezia seemed to be exchanging a passionate vow with the whole world as she said in her sultry tone, “It looks as if dear Fermet has several plans in motion himself. How utterly fascinating this will be.”

She began walking, leading the bandaged girl by the hand. She would be watching the impending commotion involving the immortals play out as an absolute bystander.

“You give it your best, too, all right, Victor darling? If you do well, I’ll praise you for it.”

With a mocking giggle, the avaricious woman walked right past the FBI car.

Victor, who was still giving his subordinate hell, never did notice his beloved. Completely oblivious, he was on the brink of getting pulled into the crazy ruckus.

As if that itself was the fate that had been meted out to him.

To be continued in Baccano! 2003