Frank and I had the newbies wrap up the crime scene and then headed over to the Inner Market District. As the name implied the Inner Market District was the prime retail space reserved for high-end artisan and independent merchants. Shopping in the Inner Market District was akin to shopping on Fifth Avenue in New York, except that instead of needing loads of money to shop at any of the stores you needed loads of respect. On an island where ninety percent of its inhabitants were geniuses, meritocracy wasn’t just respected—it was the foundation. Money still mattered, but it took a back seat to what your peers thought of you. Reputation was its own currency here, with actual tokens of favor often exchanged for services. Respect, in the end, was just another fiat currency.

The Inner Market Shops needed to invite you in via a simple door ringer. If the clerk knew you and didn’t approve, you weren’t getting in—simple as that. And if you did manage to step inside, they could have you trespassed in under a minute. Hilariously enough lawsuits had actually been filed in the United States, with their open tort law system, for access to the Inner Market Shops on Tulanto, and promptly thrown out of court. Similarly, complaints in the UN Court system were still pending. Since the Island was recognized by the UN but not a signatory, we pretty much tended to ignored those claims. So aside from the fact that the Inner Marker exclusiveness lead to charges of war crimes, the square that held those elite stores were actually small and quite quaint.

Sir Mellon's tailor shop "Tailor the World", was slotted just next to a world famous chocolatier and a custom electronics builder known for their bespoke phones—ones that later get cloned by the major manufacturers and trend for years. The three floor building was built in a tan stone brick that looked old school and yet I knew was still just as sturdy as any of the buildings on the island. All buildings on the island could withstand category 5 hurricanes easily enough due to the new building materials we created to task.

Although the GDP of Tulanto was small, it was carefully controlled to keep inflation, growth, and demand in check. We weren't selling all we could, but that was by design to keep scarcity in our favor. Wait for most of our tangible products was in years not months. Besides that most exports were in technology licensing, not product. As such, we tended to measure our growth not by GDP, but by our own Technological Value Index—how much our internal patents and advancements were worth to the outside world.

Besides my brooding about our economic policy and its real-world effects, walking into the shop reminded me that some problems in life are universal—like trying to get good customer service. Good service today meant getting answers and hopefully the tailor to the world here could help out on those.

A grey-haired gentleman and a younger version of himself stood ramrod straight, identical smiles on their faces as Frank and I stepped inside. The older man reminded me of a certain wood worker, and the younger his come to life puppet. The elder Sir Mellon looked like an aged version of his son, who stood nearly a foot taller. I was wondering if maybe they were the androids here since the likeness was so uncanny.

"Detectives! I'm so glad you came around. TAI gave us a heads up, and I have pulled up quite a bit of my last years invoices to assist in your investigation. Quite exciting this unregistered android you've found isn't it?"

Frank and I both looked at each other with the our eyebrows cocked trying to figure out how our elderly tailor could know this already. This was a platinum level case - also known as top secret to others in the world.

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“Hehe, I can see you two are wondering how I know. Gentlemen, I know more about Tulanto’s affairs than either of you—it’s my duty as one of the island’s few nobles, after all. Come, let’s ensure we find out what’s going on here and put a stop to it.”

I had just thought the fellow was done with the theatrics when he followed it up with what was ostensibly my line.

“Whatever this is, we need to strangle it in the cradle—before it learns to walk.”

The nerve of some people.

"Indeed Sir Mellon" Frank began with the official kiss of the ring "We found this suit on the deceased, would you happen to recall it by chance? It's a very fine material in a black slate tone with a classic working suit design for a very well filled lady about 5'4". The inner blouse is a dark red almost scarlet colored silk that is also very fine. Attached are the pictures I sent to your phone, but I assume you've already seen them."

"Ah, yes, Agent Parker, I recall these fabrics well. This suit, and the inner garments, are quite special. The client insisted the wearer had an extreme skin sensitivity, requiring a completely custom material. In fact, we developed several new patents just to meet the request."

I hummed in surprise. Getting a patent in Tulanto wasn’t just rare—it was damn near impossible. Patents here weren’t public, and they weren’t up for grabs. Our AI reviewed every new registration worldwide and flagged anything that even smelled like a mimic. No loopholes, no over-exaggerated claims sneaking through. It kept our high-tech locked down tighter than a corporate vault, free from the reverse-engineering plague the rest of the world dealt with. But the cost?

To get a patent here, you didn’t just have to be brilliant—you had to be a genius among geniuses. And Sir Mellon had just put himself and his team into another league entirely.

"Quite Impressive my Patron," I said using the informal way you addressed nobles here. "Would you happen to have the contact details of the person who requested those items? Would help get a name to whoever was over seeing the victim."

"Victim? Hmm… interesting turn of phrase, Detective. But I suppose she was a victim—designed with underwhelming, sub-standard equipment right from the start." The younger said while looking at pictures of the deceased on his father's tablet. "Although, who ever designed her look and, well, assets was an artist in my opinion. She's every teenage boys wet dream isn't she Detective?"

I cocked my head and thought about that. A nagging idea not quite forming yet demanding attention. "Yea she's a looker sir. That's for sure."

"Yes. Well to bring my son back on topic, I have sent you over the client information and the drop off location of this order, however I must also point out the delivery was intercepted by a drone sign off."

"One other peculiarity,” Sir Mellon said, holding his left hand up in a stiff, straight-armed pose—either striking the dignified man-with-a-point stance or discreetly checking if his deodorant had expired. “When I said the patents were for this suit, I was technically incorrect. They were actually for a series of lingerie and negligee pieces, all with the same dimensions, picked up three weeks before the suit order.

The suit? Pre-paid. Fake name. Fake address.

But the previous order? Requested, paid for, and picked up in person—by one Mateo Falieri.

At the time, it seemed like normal escapade behavior for my clients. But looking further, he’s an Italian liaison to Tulanto.

And, if our sources are right, a suspected member of AISE—the Italian intelligence agency. However, it seems he has gone back to Italia as of 2 weeks ago."

Yeah, an Italian spook fits the profile. Even if she wasn’t top-of-the-line for us, she’d be years ahead of anything the rest of the world had.

Our boy probably thought he was sneaking out his very own Pussy Galore—until she went critical.

Definitely a lead worth taking to the consulate.