The Gambling Den

The trio ascended to the second-floor office, where the captain, seemingly fresh from sleep, inquired about their progress upon their entrance.

"Any new developments?"

"Our young detective has pinpointed a target—Jeff, a solitary fisherman in the shanty district. Where exactly was it?"

"Go in from the east side; the fifth house is his dwelling. Also, Grandpa Rupert mentioned he owes a considerable debt to a local gambling house and was recently taken by a group of peculiarly dressed individuals."

"Elyon, it seems this afternoon we must visit Mr. Jeff's former abode. I see you've come prepared," Captain Kappa observed, pulling his enormous revolver from the drawer.

"Let's head out. You're not quite up to par with driving, so I'll take the wheel. Cor, take this and ride the public carriage," Kappa said, handing a silver shilling to the siblings.

"We'd prefer to accompany you," Cor refused the coin.

"You're our undercover informant; we can't expose you too soon. Elyon and I will investigate this afternoon using your information. Keep the shilling, consider it a bonus. Starting tomorrow, you'll be paid to surveil that teacher."

Comforted by this, Cor finally accepted the coin, gripping it carefully.

Kappa and Elyon took about fifteen minutes to reach the chaotic shanty zone by the port. The wooden structures were a mess—some one story, some two, and Elyon even spotted a three-story building among them. The entrance was teeming with disheveled children playing and women who couldn't afford the market's rent peddling cheap food and shoddy clothing. There were also jobless or injured individuals sitting on their doorsteps, greedily eyeing the pockets of everyone passing by.

"Draw your gun. While no one's crazy enough to openly rob police officers, desperate people do desperate things," Kappa cautioned.

Elyon took out his revolver, its silver sheen a warning under the fierce sun. Onlookers with any nefarious intent steered clear upon seeing the firearm in Elyon's hand.

The pair proceeded into the dim alley, shrouded in shadow and moisture. Elyon glanced up, unable to make out the sky, obstructed by the overhanging extensions of the makeshift attics and laundry lines. They counted the buildings until they reached the fifth—a small, shack-like structure with black fungal growths on its wooden planks, indicating long-term neglect.

"Stand back—I'm going to kick in the door," Kappa said, positioning himself before the door.

Captain Kappa raised his right leg and forcefully kicked at the door, fashioned from several wooden sticks. With a resounding crash, it collapsed inward. Curious neighbors peeked out from nearby buildings, but they quickly retreated upon seeing two officers with drawn guns.

Inside, the place was strewn with empty bottles, a grease-stained blanket laid on a single bed, and a moldy half-eaten loaf of bread occupied the small table. The rest of the space was bare, a stark depiction of desolation.

"Let's move on; nothing to learn here," Elyon suggested. "We should speak with the neighbors."

Elyon knocked on the nearest door, opened slowly by a gaunt elderly man. Seeing the officers, he hurriedly offered,

"Gentlemen, there's no money left here. That good-for-nothing son of mine hasn't sent anything in ages. I'm surviving on the charity from being a doorman. You can take this, though," the old man said, pulling out a worn pocket watch with a cracked glass face, a frayed piece of string through the loop where a chain should be.

"Sir, we're just looking for some information. Keep your watch. May we come in?" Elyon asked.

Quickly hiding the watch back in his pocket, the old man allowed them into the small room. It was clean and orderly, with a fabric divider down the center. One side held a coal stove, kettle, and cooking pot, while the other had a long table and two benches. A tea pot and three cups were neatly arranged on the table.

"Would you like some tea, officers?" the old man pointed to the tea pot. "I lost my last tea leaves to mold months ago, and without money from my son, I haven't been able to replace them."

"Don't bother, sir," Elyon reassured him. "We just have a few questions; we'll be out of your hair shortly."

"Good," the elderly man sighed, relieved. "Ask away."

"Do you know the fisherman, Jeff, next door? Has he been associating with certain people recently?"

"That gambling wretch? Last week, he lost a fortune gambling all night at a local den, tried to make a fast buck playing cards. Since then, he's been hounded daily by the den's enforcers for debts. Last Saturday, a group of men dressed in all black, with matching masks, settled his account. Jeff seemed thrilled as he left with them. You might find more information at the gambling house."

"The gambling house? Where's that?"

"Just walk towards the center of the street; it's the only brick-and-mortar structure you'll see, the one with two guards at the door checking for weapons."

"Has anyone else been looking for Jeff recently?"

"No one seeks out a washed-up gambler like that, only you officers."

"Thank you for your time. We'll be on our way."

"Anytime, officers."

Exiting the man's orderly dwelling, they walked down the narrow alley until they spotted the only brick structure in the vicinity—a three-story white mansion with a red roof. It stood out like a sore thumb amidst the dreariness.

"Captain, do we not regulate gambling?" Elyon asked, squinting at the out-of-place building.

"As long as they pay their taxes, we can't shut them down. The council couldn't care less about where the taxes come from," Kappa replied with a shake of his head.

Approaching the door, they saw two guards wielding steel pipes, thoroughly checking each patron. As Kappa and Elyon drew near, the guards exchanged glances, then one of them smiled broadly and approached.

"Officers! To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit? We are a tax-compliant establishment, you know. Last year our boss was recognized as Gonia District's exemplary taxpayer."

"We're just here to ask a few questions—we're not here to cause trouble. No need for the boy to run off and warn anyone. As long as no one inside is plotting a riot or trafficking arms, you're all safe."

With that, Captain Kappa raised his enormous revolver towards the guard who had started to sneak away.

"Of course not, sir. I was just going to inform the boss of your visit. If you could kindly lower your weapon, sir. With a gun that size, I fear no one would dare step into our gambling house today."

"Lead the way, then," Kappa commanded.