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Chapter – 18
On the night when the moon hung at its highest, Brielle—dressed as a beggar—visited a shantytown where poor children lived together.
“Miss Sailor, long time no see.”
“Yeah. You’re not sick or anything, right?”
A boy whose voice had only just begun to break greeted Brielle. Here, she was known as “Miss Sailor”—a fake name she made by changing just one letter from Tailor.
“Thanks to Miss Sailor, we’re all doing fine. But… you still only have that one outfit?”
Eric frowned at the sight of Brielle’s threadbare clothing fluttering in tatters. The kids lined up behind him wore the same worried expression.
“I save money like this so I can give you kids pocket money.”
“That’s something we’re always grateful for.”
Eric beamed, showing bright white teeth that contrasted with his soot-smudged face. At the same time, he politely held out both hands, not forgetting his manners.
Chuckling at his swift change of attitude, Brielle placed three silver coins into his palms.
“Alright, Eric is done. Next. Oh—Jane! You grew again?”
“Thank you, Miss Sailor. I grew about two centimeters.”
“Good, good. If you want to keep growing, you must never skip meals. Who’s next? Nicholas, you adorable little thing! Still as shy as ever?”
After giving each of the roughly twenty kids the same number of coins, Brielle went back to Eric.
“Yes, Miss Sailor. What would you like to say?”
“I wish you’d stop talking in that weird polite way. Anyway, what I asked before—did you look into it?”
Street kids never missed a rumor. They picked up all kinds of talk from roaming the city every day, doing chores or begging.
The downside was that they had no way to verify facts on the spot—yet many of their rumors eventually ended up as special features in the Berkshire Times.
In short, their information was faster than anyone else’s.
Not long ago, Brielle had asked them to gather whatever information they could on the Duke Bradley Hill case, right after confirming for herself that Aiden Hill had no interest in the incident.
“You mean the Duke Hill case? Strangely enough, there aren’t any rumors about it. That’s what’s weird.”
Brielle’s expression darkened quickly at Eric’s report. Even the grime she had smeared on to dull her fair skin couldn’t hide it.
“…If they’ve shut down gossip this thoroughly, the culprit must be a high-ranking noble—or even higher.”
“Miss Sailor, you shouldn’t say things like that anywhere else. You’ll get arrested! But yes, it’s strange. A great man like the Duke dies to robbers, and it’s this quiet? It wasn’t even natural death.”
After warning her to watch what she said, Eric reluctantly agreed. Then the girl behind him, Jane, spoke timidly.
“Miss Sailor. I remembered you said he’d been shot, so I went around the districts where gunshots were heard that day.”
“Really, Jane? I didn’t even ask yet and you investigated? So—did you find something?”
Everyone—including Brielle, Eric, and the other kids—focused on Jane. She twisted her already-tangled curls nervously and continued.
“There were four shooting incidents that day. As you know, the Duke’s case happened at Raymond Park, but they didn’t catch the culprit. Two others were gang fights and the police arrested everyone. But there was one more shooting—no culprit, no victim.”
“They fired a gun, but nobody was hit?”
“Yes. They said it was an accidental discharge.”
Brielle raised an eyebrow. Firing a precious firearm by accident was rare—unless you were at some noble hunting event.
“Whose gun was it?”
“A commoner named Gillian Callister.”
“A commoner… owns a gun?”
“They said it was a family heirloom, very old. That’s why the accident happened. A kid from next door told me. And, um… that house is really far from Raymond Park.”
“Hm… I see.”
Regardless of the mystery, the fact that Jane had thoroughly tracked down the gun’s origin impressed Brielle greatly. She hugged the thin girl tightly.
“Thank you, Jane! How are you so smart? Thanks to you, I think we’ve found a lead. You did so well.”
“Th-thank you for the praise, Miss Sailor.”
Jane blushed shyly but couldn’t hide her smile. Eric, the group’s unofficial leader, looked quite pleased as he watched.
“We’ve always been getting help, so I’m glad we finally helped back. Miss Sailor, if you need more info, leave it to us anytime!”
“Seriously, where do you pick up that weird grown-up speech? Anyway, I asked for this, so you’ll be paid properly.”
Grinning, Brielle shook the money pouch at her waist. The jingling of coins made the children’s eyes sparkle, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
Not long after Aiden Hill publicly announced Rolling Pin’s identity details, another case appeared—boldly showcasing the thief’s handiwork again.
This time, the targets were a group of thugs who had been terrorizing poor citizens for money.
Though it had happened just the night before, the Berkshire Times had already printed the story in the morning edition. Brielle was quietly impressed by their speed—though not pleased to be outpaced.
As expected, Octavia, who appeared for work at Brielle’s café, paused mid-reading with a puzzled look.
“Did the pattern change?”
“What pattern?”
“So far, she only went after nobles. But this time the targets were commoners… Isn’t that weird?”
Brielle pointed at the last paragraph of the article.
“Read here. It says those thugs were backed by a noble faction that was taking their cut. Rolling Pin exposed them and confiscated their assets.”
“Oh, wow. Then that makes sense. Our ‘Miss Rolling Pin’ wouldn’t abandon her philosophy.”
“…Hold on. When did it become Miss Rolling Pin?”
Brielle’s big eyes narrowed in annoyance. Octavia, oblivious, looked very satisfied with herself.
“Well, the Duke confirmed the thief is a woman. So she’s Miss Rolling Pin now.”
“According to who?”
“Obviously according to the true brain behind the Berkshire Times, Octavia Wood. That’s me. Starting tomorrow, the paper’s calling her that.”
Brielle chewed her lip at Octavia’s smug tone and protested.
“And if he guessed wrong? Just because he said the thief is a woman doesn’t make it true.”
The one who answered that question was the man who suddenly appeared behind them.
“No, it’s certain. Miss Taylor, the thief is indeed a woman.”
“…Duke Hill?”
It was early in the morning, before the café opened. Aiden’s silent appearance startled both Brielle and Octavia.
“My lady! The Duke entered with me from the back door. I saw his carriage stop there and escorted him in.”
“Molly.”
Molly appeared after locking the back door and briefly explained.
Only then did the two women understand. They greeted Aiden, and he returned their greeting politely before speaking again.
“It seems the front entrance of this café makes me too easy a target, so I had to use the back. I ask for your understanding.”
“If you had sent word beforehand, we would’ve prepared accordingly. Anyway, what brings you here today?”
The tension between them was thick enough to choke on. Octavia felt like she couldn’t breathe.
“Haha… Well then, I’ll leave you two to your conversation. I’ll take a walk.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Please do, Miss Wood.”
Before Brielle could stop her, Aiden dismissed Octavia. Brielle glared at him, but he only lifted a shoulder lightly.
“I won’t take long. I’ll say what I came to say and leave immediately.”
“Yes, please do.”
Brielle refused to offer him a seat and just stared. Aiden sighed softly and pulled a folded document from his coat.
“Last night, while reviewing this café’s contract again, I discovered something. There was a hidden clause.”
