But no matter how dissatisfied, when under a low eave, one has to bow their head. Caleb Bennett and Matthew Brooks both went to the security office to receive a Zhongzheng rifle and five rounds of ammunition. When they arrived at the hall, they happened to see Shawn Benson from the Special Services Department and Charles Thompson from the Security Department coming down the stairs together. Standing beside them was a Japanese second lieutenant officer: Jiro Littlefield, who was the squad leader of the Tokkō section of the Kempeitai in Guxing’s Japanese Special Services Unit.

Chapter 2: Clues

The appearance of Littlefield made the previously noisy hall fall silent. When Matthew Brooks saw Littlefield, he was stirred inside. The Japanese usually did not interfere in police affairs; for Littlefield to come in person today clearly meant the person to be arrested was no ordinary target.

However, as Matthew Brooks looked around, he did not see any Kempeitai soldiers, nor did it seem like there were any outside. Instead, the hall was mostly filled with people from the Security Department. They were fine for maintaining order and directing traffic, but when it came to making arrests, it still depended on the Special Services Department. Including Director Shawn Benson, there were only five people from the Special Services Department.

Could it be that the Special Services Department’s people could now take on ten at once? Matthew Brooks didn’t think so. This arrangement was strange in itself—Jiro Littlefield and Shawn Benson personally taking charge, yet the operation was led by the Security Department, making it even harder to understand.

“Today’s Communist suspect is very important. If you catch him alive, you’ll be rewarded with two hundred fabi; if wounded, one hundred fabi. If he dies, you’ll have a month’s pay docked!” Shawn Benson walked to the steps of the staircase, looked at the crowd below, and spoke slowly. Catching one could lead to a string of others; if he died, he’d be of no use at all.

“Mr. Ono, do you have anything to add?” Shawn Benson was quite satisfied to see everyone so submissive. He turned to glance at Littlefield, immediately stepped back, and asked respectfully.

Littlefield quietly said in halting Chinese, “Hurry up and get things arranged,” then went straight downstairs. This surprised Matthew Brooks even more. The fact that the Special Services Department was mobilizing the Security Department meant the person to be caught was extremely important. Otherwise, Littlefield wouldn’t have come to oversee things himself.

Not only that, but the task assignments were also given by the deputy director and operations captain of the Special Services Department, Leonard Hale. Right there in the hall, Leonard Hale drew a simple floor plan on the blackboard, marking the positions of the Special Services personnel and the Security Department members being called in. Caleb Bennett and Matthew Brooks were assigned to the west end of Taigu Street. That area was near Gujiang, far from the incident site, and basically nothing was expected to happen there.

Although Matthew Brooks had doubts in his heart, he didn’t show it on his face. Following Caleb Bennett in the police station had taught him a lot, especially Caleb Bennett’s survival skills, which had benefited him greatly. When dealing with the Special Services people, never ask what you shouldn’t, never try to know what you shouldn’t. Some things, even if you know, you have to pretend you don’t. Otherwise, at best you’ll be given a hard time, at worst you’ll disappear forever!

It wasn’t until Shawn Benson finally revealed the target that Matthew Brooks realized the person to be arrested was actually in his own jurisdiction: the owner of Wenhua Bookstore on Changtang Street, Howard Clark!

Of course, Matthew Brooks knew Howard Clark, and he had been to Wenhua Bookstore more than once. Just the day before yesterday, Matthew Brooks had gone there to buy a book. The two weren’t exactly friends, but they were acquainted. He never would have thought that Howard Clark, who always wore a long gown and glasses, would turn out to be a Communist suspect!

Matthew Brooks didn’t have time to change clothes; he just threw on a raincoat and set out with Caleb Bennett, rifles on their backs. Changtang Street and Taigu Street were their patrol areas. They used to go on foot, but since they were making an arrest today, they took a police car. As they left, Matthew Brooks deliberately checked the time: 8:40.

Taigu Street ran east to west, south of the police station. The east end of Taigu Street intersected with Changtang Street and continued all the way to Gusha Street. Heading west, it led to Gujiang Road, and further west was the vast Gujiang River. Originally, Gujiang Road had been the old city wall of Guxing City; after the wall collapsed, the road was built along its path.

Matthew Brooks and Caleb Bennett were assigned to the west side of Taigu Street, near Gujiang Road. This was more than two li from Wenhua Bookstore, so the two of them were really just a precaution. If dozens of people couldn’t catch Howard Clark, the two of them wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Old He, have a cigarette.” Matthew Brooks took out a pack of Sanpao Tai. He wasn’t much of a smoker, but always carried a pack because Caleb Bennett was a heavy smoker. After a few puffs, Caleb Bennett became much more talkative.

Caleb Bennett usually smoked Gold Label cigarettes that cost two fen a pack, made in Hebei. The box featured a man and woman in opera costumes, and they were cheap and sold well in Guxing. But since Matthew Brooks didn’t smoke much, he always bought the three-fen-a-pack Sanpao Tai, because he liked the picture of Liu, Guan, and Zhang on horseback in battle, and the slogan: “Sanpao Tai, today’s famous smoke; Liu, Guan, and Zhang, heroes of old.”

“Come on, let’s take a break.” After taking the cigarette, Caleb Bennett lazily walked under the eaves of a nearby house.

As Caleb Bennett inhaled deeply, a look of satisfaction appeared on his face. Although he was just a patrolman, his requirements were simple: as long as he could eat his fill, his family wasn’t hungry, and he could live in peace, that was enough. If, in his spare time, he could smoke a little and play some cards, it was practically a life of an immortal.