Chapter Twenty-Five: Smoker
Smoker was a hundred percent sure that Roronoa had Nami, though Roronoa had not actually said the words. Their last conversation had led in the direction that pretty much proved it though. That thought was hard to tame; Smoker wanted to go straight to the juvenile delinquent's apartment and snatch the girl up before she could find a way to disappear again. But he didn't. The tone of Roronoa's conversation had suggested that Nami had disappeared by choice again, but this time in fear for her own life. Smoker didn't want to push her into anything even more hazardous to her health. Especially since Roronoa had put it as though she had 'escaped' from the clinic.
Dr. Water had relayed to them (in between Belle's ranting and raving) that he had treated Nami for three gunshot wounds and the symptoms of shock. And somehow that sixteen year old girl had managed to sneak out of a clinic with those wounds. Dr. Water had been quite flustered at her disappearance and had blurted out in front of Belle that Nami was in danger of bleeding out if she tore open any of her wounds again.
Dumb ass.
Belle had gone berserk. It was the first time since he had known her that Smoker wondered at the sanity of this woman. She had torn the clinic apart looking for Nami and screaming profanities. It was heart wrenching to watch. Belle had come to the point of almost having her daughter back just to have her disappear again. Smoker supposed that he had underestimated the level of love Belle had for her daughters.
So, in attempt to ensure the best possible outcome, Smoker waited until he saw Roronoa again the next day at the hospital to confront the youth. He figured if he did it at Roronoa's apartment and Nami was there, she'd take off again before he had a chance to get to her. The fact that Roronoa visited the hospital every day like clockwork was reassuring, too.
"Roronoa," Smoker called as soon as the boy got off the elevator. Roronoa looked up and frowned; it was his usual expression whenever he saw Smoker. Probably from past interactions. It made Smoker crack a half smile. Man, that incident with the blender…he'd never see anything funnier in his life he supposed.
"What?" Roronoa replied unenthusiastically, though he did stop in his trek to Garp's grandson's room.
"A moment of your time," Smoker reassured him. Still reluctant, Roronoa came over to Smoker. He was sitting in the lounge area for the critical care patients and there was no one there with him.
"Only one moment?" Roronoa quipped, but still frowning.
"Look, I'll get straight to the point," Smoker promised as soon as Roronoa was near enough to hear his quiet words. "We need to talk about Nami hiding at your apartment."
Roronoa froze. He didn't even try to cover it up, either. He just froze like a startled deer. Smoker took a guess at that reaction.
"Don't worry; I do not intend to turn you in for harboring a fugitive," Smoker dismissed. Roronoa thawed slightly. "My concern is purely that Nami's health and safety be addressed. She must go to the hospital. Her wounds—"
"I'd have made her go if she'd have listened to me," Roronoa interrupted. "But like I said yesterday, she'd freak out every time I even mentioned anything concerning a doctor. But as of last night, her arm and shoulder were pretty good and the swelling in her leg had gone down. Not sure that one wasn't still an open wound; she broke a lot of stitches. But she wasn't bleeding anymore."
Words had poured out of Roronoa like a fountain. Smoker wondered if he'd ever heard this many words at one time from the kid in his entire acquaintance. Smoker went over Zoro's words a second time in his head to reassess the information he was given for the important points. He sighed heavily as he realized that if Nami was still with Roronoa, he would have said 'this morning' instead of 'last night.'
"She's gone again," he assessed. Roronoa looked like a stunned deer again. "I was hoping that you conveyed the deeper points of our conversation to her about the benefits of going to the police."
"I did," Roronoa protested quickly.
"I don't doubt you," Smoker said, holding a hand up to calm the kid down. "But it seems she didn't listen to it. I don't suppose she left any indication of where she might have gone?"
Roronoa shook his head. "She was gone when I woke up this morning. But last night she talked of going to All Blue."
"Damn it," he muttered. Belle was going to have a nervous breakdown soon. If she wasn't already there. Since Nami had disappeared six weeks ago, Belle had lost nearly thirty pounds. That much weight was detrimental to her health.
"Sorry," Roronoa apologized lamely. He shifted from foot to foot and glanced over his shoulder at Garp's grandson's room. "Hey, can I go now?"
Smoker waived him off as he pondered what else he could do. The only lead he'd had for a week and a half had just dried up. He didn't doubt Roronoa; the kid was a terrible liar. He'd tried to lie his way through the blender incident and it was a total failure.
It was when he was thinking of his next step that his cell phone rang.
Smoker reached into his pocket and grabbed the phone automatically. He was trying to duck the dark looks that the hospital nurses were giving him for having his cell phone on when he was outside of a designated cell phone zone so he answered it without looking at the caller.
"Smoker," he answered.
"You got about ten minutes to get your ass to the station, Chaser," Garp's voice told him. "Otherwise, I'm interrogating her without you."
Smoker's mind stuttered as he tried to readjust his thoughts.
"Who?" he asked.
"That brat Nami."
Smoker was up and walking towards the elevator in half a heartbeat.
"The kid showed up at our doorstep about a half an hour ago, refused medical treatment, and demanded to see you," Garp relayed with a snort. "I told her that you don't work for EBPD anymore and she told me to fuck off. So you got that long to get here or I'm gonna go in there and play bad cop without the good cop. Got it?"
"I'm on my way," Smoker assured him, pushing the elevator button. He hung up and was about to board the elevator when he had a moment: Belle was with Nojiko in Garp's grandson's room. He did a U-turn and jogged back to the room. Two different nurses yelled at him to walk.
Smoker busted through the door a little more violently than he'd planned, but he saw Belle in a moment so it didn't matter. Everyone including Belle was stunned and staring at him. He grabbed her arm and tugged her towards the door.
"What's going on?" Nojiko asked, unfreezing from her spot next to Portugas.
"You stay here until we come get you," Smoker instructed her, then looked at Portugas. "She doesn't leave your sight."
Portugas nodded but Nojiko got that same look on her face that Belle did when Smoker tried to tell her what to do and she didn't agree with it.
"The hell I—" she started.
"Nojiko," Belle interrupted in a tone that Smoker hadn't heard Belle use on the girl before. Nojiko fell silent and, though reluctantly, sat back down. "I'll be back later."
Belle didn't ask questions or argue; she simply followed him back to the elevator. She even remained silent throughout the elevator ride. It was when they were in the car and moving that the questions started.
"Where is she?" Belle asked.
"The station," Smoker answered.
"Why not the hospital?" Belle demanded, starting to get that fired-up tone to her voice.
"She probably refused medical treatment," Smoker answered. "And seeing as she's a wanted person in an ongoing investigation, Garp's not letting her out of his custody."
"His custody," Belle snorted. "The old fuck! He's lost my daughter three times! I wouldn't trust him with the purity of a peanut butter sandwich, the piece of shit!"
It was good for Belle to get all of this out now; Garp wouldn't let her into the viewing room if she was raving at him when they got to the station.
"Just where the hell has she been for the last week and a half?" Belle demanded.
"Don't for sure know yet," Smoker truthfully lied. Technically, Roronoa had never actually said she was with him. It had only been implied. Belle seemed to see through that one and looked like she was going to ask so Smoker rushed on. "She asked for me when she came in and Garp said I had ten minutes to get there or he was interrogating her himself."
"Is that why we're ignoring speed limits and traffic lights?" Belle asked, though Smoker doubted she minded.
"I don't want that damn kid to disappear through my fingers again," Smoker lamented. "I'd hand cuff her to the interrogation table if I thought it would do any good. But I think the only reason Nami is in our possession is because she wants to be."
"That brat!" Belle cursed. "I want to smack her upside the head and hug her 'til she passes out. I just don't know which to do first."
"Belle, keep a clear head," Smoker tried to remind her gently. "She's only going home with you if she cooperates with us and you don't get thrown out of the police station for threatening somebody."
"Cowardly candy asses!" Belle cried again. For a woman who had barely eaten in six weeks and slept probably a grand total of eight hours all week, she still had some energy in her. "She's my daughter! Daughter! As if I'd ever do anything to hurt her! And Garp deserves what he gets, along with any idiot stupid enough to get in my way."
Finally, she wasn't shouting anymore. It was a good sign that the worst was over.
"Do me a favor and save anything else for later," Smoker advised. Belle gave him a dirty look. "Garp's going to be hot that I brought you and not want to let you observe, but if you stay silent and don't call him a candy ass or fucker or whatever, you'll probably be let in. Can you do that?"
"Don't fuck with me, Chaser," Belle snapped. "Of course I can. Who do you think you're talking to?"
"A woman on the edge," Smoker snapped back. "Who should be hospitalized in the room next to her daughter. Now don't you fuck with me, got it?"
It was the closest thing to a fight the two of them had ever had. But Smoker wanted to get it across how important the next few minutes would be. Belle looked livid.
"You got it, Chaser," she said in a voice so cold it would have froze rain into sleet.
Needless to say, the rest of the car ride was silent. It didn't matter. It was only another minute long after that. Smoker double parked in a handicapped spot and threw the keys at the first officer he came into contact with inside the station. Everyone seemed to know why he was there and gave him wide berth as he entered. No one said anything to or about Belle either.
Garp was, luckily, still outside of the interrogation room when Smoker got to them. He raised a displeased but not surprised eyebrow at the sight of Belle but luckily didn't say anything either.
"She hasn't spoken to me since she told me to fuck off," Garp relayed. "I doubt there's any good in me going in there. This is your show, Chaser. Make it count."
Garp opened the door to the observation room and stepped in, followed by Belle. Smoker wondered how long before one of them opened their big mouths and shit went sideways. With a deep breath to calm himself, Smoker opened the door to interrogation and stepped in.
She looked terrible. But she was there. Smoker walked over to the table where Nami was seated, her back to the two-way mirror, and sat down across from her. She was very pale and very skinny, resembling her mother in that way, though there was no relation, and in her eyes was that same hard look Belle had always had.
Silence rang through the room as Smoker waited for Nami to say something. She didn't. She only stared at them with those cold eyes that were exactly like her mother's, aside from the shade. Finally, Smoker decided that he would have to be the one to speak first. He pondered what would be best to say.
"Do you have any idea how long I have been searching for you?" he asked, unable to curb the parental statement despite not being her (or any child's) parent.
"Do you know how long I've suffered because of you?" she retorted immediately. Smoker was slightly taken aback. He hadn't expected her to blame the whole situation on him. He had expected her to tell him that she'd done it for some money or protection, as the Portugas boy had said.
"Because of me?" Smoker repeated.
"Do you ever even think beyond yourself?" Nami wondered. Her voice was cold. "Do you consider the consequences for only yourself? Or do you entertain what could happen to others?"
This was all accusatory. And not in the direction that Smoker had wanted to go. Any second now, Garp was going to come into the room and oust Smoker from it.
"Of course I do," Smoker returned. "But I'm guessing you're alluding to a time when you believe I did not. Unless it pertains to the Fishman Village matter, we'll have to talk about it later."
"It's the source of the Fishman Village matter," Nami stated.
"How?" Smoker asked, speaking his mind. He honestly couldn't manage to get from point A to point B on her logic.
"When I was eight years old," Nami told him, "you stalked my mother. That night, you asked her to go back to college so she could come work for you."
Smoker recalled the night in question, squirming a bit at the 'stalking' reference. It was harsh, but ultimately the truth, unfortunately.
"Please explain the correlation," Smoker requested.
Nami sighed as though she was disappointed that he couldn't figure it out himself.
"Like two days after she agreed," she explained, "I was approached at school by some stupid thug who wanted my mother back at her old 'job.' I'm not the little kid I used to be, and I'm not stupid. My mother tried to keep us from starving to death by trying to become a prostitute. And the fucker who came to me at school was her former pimp. I know that now."
Smoker paled. This was something the girls were never supposed to know. It had been a grand total of one night. Hell, Belle had never taken any money.
"Your mother was never a prostitute," Smoker contradicted. "I'd have had to arrest her if she was."
"Don't fuck with me," Nami spat, sounding so much like her mother that Smoker wanted to smile a bit, despite the curse. "Like I said, I'm not stupid. So she failed at being a prostitute. Whatever. She tried. And some fucker thought she owed him something. I don't care. What does matter is that for the next two weeks, my sister and I were followed around and Bell-mère was shot at."
"That wasn't—"
"Don't you dare say that wasn't related," Nami interrupted. "You know it was. And if you think that was going to be the last incident, you're stupid. But you're not stupid either, are you Smoker?"
No. Smoker wasn't stupid. He'd known the shooting had not been random and had worried about Belle and her kids. Some of the people following Nami and Nojiko had been put there by Smoker. He just didn't think the kids would notice.
"But if you think that those dangers and that threat on my mother's life just went away, then maybe you are stupid," Nami continued. "Did you get suspicious at all back then when that all just stopped?"
He had. But it had stopped around the same time that he had been taking his Bar Exam and he'd forgotten about it until weeks later. With no other incidents, Smoker had decided that the Don's Mafia had given up on Belle because she was a small fry.
"Fine, I'll give that one to you," Nami relented, watching his face as if she could read his thoughts. "Being a prostitute, or failed prostitute for one night probably doesn't warrant much retaliation. But what about being a narc for a cop?"
Something else Smoker had considered. The main reason that he had suspected Belle had been shot at. Not the prostitution thing. But his concerns had died because the incident was the only one of reference and he'd retired from the police force after passing the Bar.
"Or, even better," Nami went on, "how about being the only weak link for a prosecution attorney that is incorruptible?"
Ding, ding, ding! Smoker felt things shift into place. It made him feel a little sick.
"Forgot about that, didn't you?" Nami predicted. "Forgot that you could be reached through her. Or her eight and ten year old kids. Didn't think that one through, did you Chaser?"
"So your answer at eight years old was to go join a gang?" Smoker demanded in a yell. "How the fuck was that a solution? Why didn't you come to me? Why did you run to danger versus safety?"
"I didn't know you," Nami denied. "You're just some stalker my mother told me was a police officer and I should trust. To me, you were just as dangerous as the men I went to for protection. And the men I went to, though of dubious background, were very good at their job."
Smoker was still angry, despite her explanation.
"You stole the Don Krieg Mafia folder from me, didn't you?" Smoker accused. He knew she had done it. She was the only one who'd had access to those files besides Belle and himself. He wanted her to admit it, and then tell him why.
"I did," she agreed. "That was repayment for settling the Black Cat incident myself."
Herself? Versus what?
"Versus letting the Sawshark's yakuza murder everyone involved," Nami answered his unspoken question. "You see, the Sawshark wasn't very generous about things that didn't involve large sums of money. And the Black Cat gang had no money. They were going after Kaya's. If Arlong had found out about that, he'd have killed everyone involved including Ussop and his mother, except Kaya. He'd have kept her, drained her of her money, and probably turned her into a Mermaid."
Some of Smoker's ire died a little bit. Yeah, that fit the Sawshark's m.o. Sick bastard.
"That's what he does, you know?" Nami went on, picking dirt from underneath her nails. "He uses people until he gets what he wants from them, and then kills them. Unless there's another way to make money off of them. In this case, becoming a Mermaid. Quite a profitable business."
And there it was. The elephant in the room.
"How did it happen?" Smoker asked after the silence became unbearable.
"How did I move from Messenger to Mermaid, you mean? After I gave him the file on Krieg," Nami told him. "He said I was too valuable to be wasted as a Messenger anymore. So I was promoted."
"And that was the night of Baratie incident?" Smoker clarified. Nami snorted.
"No, about a week before that," she refined. "He told me my bruises had to fade before he would 'let me start my new career.'"
Bile in the back of his throat.
"The day you went home sick from school?" Smoker prompted.
"That was the day I met Sabo," Nami murmured. "It was the night before that."
"So for the next week…" Smoker trailed off.
"I guess you could say, I was trying to wrap my head around my new job," Nami said while smiling bitterly. "I never did manage it though. Not even after I'd started. I hated every day of it. At least, until Luffy came along."
Smoker took a long pause. Luffy. Garp's grandson. This next question was very important.
"When did young Luffy come upon you?" Smoker asked slowly.
"About three days in," Nami answered immediately. "It was a small blessing."
Smoker stared at her.
"I was available from two o'clock in the afternoon to four o'clock in the morning to fuck people," Nami spelled out for him. "And Luffy came and took up eight of those fourteen hours so I didn't have to do it as much."
"Why didn't he come to us right away?" Smoker asked, but already knowing the answer.
"I convinced him not to," Nami answered. Yep, he knew it. "If he had, would you have been in any position to take down Fishman Village?"
Smoker opened his mouth to answer.
"Be honest," Nami beat him to the punch. "You had no idea how wide spread this virus known as Fishman Village was, did you? Nor did you have a plan to take it down."
In all honesty, no. Not at all.
"So having my best friend come visit me every night made my life just a little less shitty, I guess you could say," Nami summed up. "Don't you dare think ill of him when he was the only person I had when my life fell apart."
Smoker still didn't agree, but he knew by the look in Nami's eyes that he'd never win that argument. So he let the silence take over for a few minutes as he tried to collect his thoughts about what information he needed to collect before Garp barged in and tried taking over the investigation.
"I need to know how deep in intelligence you were with the Sawshark," Smoker finally said. "Thanks to your blonde rescuer friend and his compatriots, there are only about seventeen former members left in the Sawshark's yakuza. We're still pulling bodies from beneath that building, and probably will be for months to come. So we have very little intelligence on the yakuza itself."
"That's your problem," Nami stated definitively. "Not mine. I was advised to turn myself in and tell you what I know. I am. I joined when I was eight to protect my family; I was a Messenger until a month and a half ago. If you want to know the area that I covered, I can give you those stats. Six weeks ago, I was made into a Mermaid. If you want to know how many men I was forced to fuck or what positions they like, I can give you those stats too. But that's all I know. That's more than I ever wanted to know."
Smoker knew she was lying. There was no way that a smart girl like Nami wouldn't have figured out other things along the way. But she wasn't saying anything. Why, when she had nothing left to lose and no one holding a gun to her head was she still hiding things?
Think, Smoker.
"Can I get a donut or something?" Nami asked suddenly. "I'm starved."
Yeah, she looked starved too.
"I'll see what I can do," Smoker pledged, still thinking.
If she was still hiding things then the obvious answer was that there was something still left to lose (probably her family again) and that there was someone holding the proverbial gun to her head. So the question was, was it someone who was still alive in the organization?
"In the meantime," Smoker continued, "I'm going to bring in a list of the members that survived the bombing. I would like you to identify their positions within the yakuza if you knew. Is that something you can do?"
Nami shrugged. "I'll give it a try."
Smoker nodded and waited to be let out of interrogation. Garp opened the door and together they walked back to his desk.
"She's still hiding something," Garp observed.
"But why?" Smoker asked. "Unless one of the operatives we picked up is a lot higher in the yakuza than we thought, there's something much bigger going on that we don't know about yet."
Garp grunted.
"Or do we?" Smoker asked suspiciously. "What are you holding out on me?"
"There's been word from the underground that someone from All Blue was backing the Sawshark. Both financially and in manpower. If she knows who it is…"
"This underground," Smoker said, grabbing a chocolate covered donut. "Would it happen to be that blonde who fucked up the whole operation?"
Garp snorted as he printed the list of associates. "Not the entire operation. Just the end of it. My grandson did the majority of fucking up."
"What do you think of the girl's explanation of your grandson's tight lippedness?" Smoker prodded.
"He's an idiot whose heart is in the right place, but not his mind," Garp grumbled. "Regardless of whether we had the means to do it when he found her, he should have told me."
Smoker felt the same way. But there was no use worrying about it now. What was done was done and now they were scrambling to get back on top of the situation before a new entity worse than the Sawshark of Fishman Village came to power.
Smoker let himself back into interrogation and handed Nami the donut. She ate it in four bites. Hadn't Roronoa been feeding her?
"Here's the list," Smoker told her, handing her the paper and a pen from his pocket. "Any notes you can make about these men would be greatly appreciated."
Nami wiped her hands on her clothes and grabbed both. She studied the list for a good minute before putting it on the table and going to work on it. She wrote quite a bit more than Smoker was expecting. She had at least two or three lines for each associate. When she had gotten far enough down on the page that he could see it, Smoker began reading about the first man, though it was slow going since it was upside down for him.
Kaneshiro Watanabe—Dumbass enfOrcer. Needs to QUIt smoking.
Okay. So he was an enforcer. But what did his smoking habits have to do with anything? Smoker read the next line.
Pisaro Akira—eXtremely mOronic enforcer. TEnDs tO Forget Lists eAsily.
Okay, there was something going on. Her hand writing was all over the place, and though she'd shot herself in the arm, according to reports, it was her left arm not her right, so her penmanship shouldn't be affected.
Shioyaki Jun—Moron. that's It. just hard to listeN to this Guy's nOnsense.
Smoker was trying to put the words together and see if there was some sort of code, but it was upside down and therefore hard for him to process. He waited until Nami stopped writing, which she did about half way through the list. She didn't even bother to write anything on the members that were listed below the seventh person. She handed the list back to Smoker.
"That's all I remember," Nami told him. Smoker eyed the list again and saw more of her disjointed writing. There was something there! Why couldn't he see it?
"Read it aloud if you want," Nami suggested. "I'm sure the people watching in interrogation are dying to hear what it says."
So Smoker read the first one aloud. "Kaneshiro Watanabe. Dumbass Enforcer. Needs to quit smoking."
Nami smirked, but otherwise didn't react to his listing.
"Pisaro Akira. Extremely moronic Enforcer. Tends to forget lists easily," Smoker went on.
"Not what you were hoping for, was it?" Nami guessed. "Sorry. I told you. I don't have the information you think you want from me."
But there was something there. And now that he wasn't looking at the list upside down, he could see it.
Dumbass enfOrcer. Needs to QUIt smoking. eXtremely mOronic enforcer. TEnDs tO Forget Lists eAsily. Moron. that's It. just hard to listeN to this Guy's nOnsense. Loser. A Whiner too. JustIfies Needing Big mEals by workIng out a lot.
Donquixote Doflamingo. Law. Jinbei.
Holy. Shit.
All of these names were big players in All Blue. No wonder Nami wouldn't say anything. Smoker realized his pause had been a bit long and tried to cover it up by addressing the rest of the list.
"No other input?" he asked, pointing to the bottom ten men. "You didn't know any of these men?"
"They're all Enforcers," Nami shrugged. "I can tell you their bad habits too if you really want to know. But they're all small fries."
Smoker pointed to the last name on the list. "Even this one?"
Nami leaned forward and eyed the name for a moment. "He was a chauffeur."
"Our information indicates that Hatchan Takane was one of the top three Enforcers and held the title of one of the Trio," Smoker explained. Nami made no facial movements or bodily gestures whatsoever. She was unfazed. She was lying.
"I never once saw him fight," she replied too smoothly. "I doubt he even could fight. Have you ever seen that man try to get out of a room with one door?"
Yes, Smoker had. It was sadly amusing. The man would get lost while standing next to the door. That was why they wanted clarification. He didn't seem like that much of a threat. But was he acting? Nami was lying, Smoker was sure, but was it about being a chauffeur or about him not being a part of the Trio? Because Hatchan Takane looked much more like a chauffeur than a top ranked Enforcer.
"He was Arlong's personal chauffeur if that makes any difference?" Nami offered.
Well, kind of. The high level authority made a tiny bit more sense then. Smoker continued to ponder the list, but the sum up that Nami had given him was pretty spot on to the information they already had.
"Are we done yet?" Nami asked randomly. Smoker looked up from the list. "I want to ask you, as an attorney, a couple of questions on a personal matter."
A personal matter?
"How do I emancipate myself from my mother?" Nami asked calmly. "I want to be responsible for myself from now on. No more orders from anyone else. Ever."
Smoker was floored. Nami had done all of this for her family, and now wanted out of it? Smoker suddenly remembered that Belle was in the observation room. She had to be completely stunned, if not devastated.
"That's not—" Smoker began.
"I know it's possible," Nami interrupted him, once again guessing what he was going to say. "I looked it up while I was still in school. I'm tired of every single choice I make for my life is being second guessed and nitpicked and I want everyone fucking out of it. I'm done. I'll fuck up my own life and have no more commentary from anyone else."
Smoker regained his composure and straightened in his chair. "If you wish to go through with such proceedings, you will need to do so through the city. I can't act on behalf of a minor unless appointed to by judgment. And I would fight it if I was."
"I figured," Nami shrugged. "You wouldn't do a damn thing that would ever hurt her, would you? But anyone else involved, they're on their own. Isn't that right, Chaser?"
Nami was attacking him personally again. It was clear that the interrogation was over. Smoker stood from his chair and took the list with him. At least he'd gotten something from her. Besides shade.
Garp let him out again and took the list from him. He eyed it over and Smoker watched as the same realization came over Garp. He sighed deeply and folded the paper up and put it in his pocket.
"Too bad we didn't get anything useful from the girl," Garp said. "I didn't expect much, but at least we have the clarification we need on Hatchan Takane. We can move forward with our charges."
Garp was deliberately avoiding the subjects secretly listed in the paper. Did he trust the station so little? That was a sad thought.
"You better handle her mother," Garp added. "She's about to turn into a wreck, and you brought that ship here. You deal with it."
Yes, he'd brought Belle here and it was a mistake. But he'd do it again, given the chance. Belle would be a wreck as Garp had said, but she at least was able to see her daughter.
Smoker opened the door to the observation room. Belle sat on one of the chairs hunched over and staring at the floor. He leaned down onto his haunches in front of her. Surprisingly, she was not crying, but she did look like she wanted to be.
"I can't believe that I drove my daughter to this," she whispered after a few minutes of silence. "I forced her to join a yakuza to keep me and Nojiko safe. Everything that has happened to her is my fault."
No, Smoker thought. Everything that had happened to Nami was his fault.