The first thing to do was get more information. I'd fallen down on the job here. I hadn't looked into Morelli at all, just taken Marcone's 'he's me from Boston' and run with it. That was a huge mistake.
I generally run stuff down myself, either through my contacts in the spirit world, or through plain old fashioned leg work. But I'd never had cause to work out in Boston. I didn't know anything about the town or the power structure out there. Luckily, I knew someone who would. Or who'd know who would know. There's a lot of 'friend of a friend' in this business.
Nick Christian had been my mentor in the investigator business. I'd pretty much followed him home one day, after he'd been around the dance studio looking into a missing persons case. I'd gone in with romantic, Bogart-esque ideas of private eye work and Nick had crushed those pretty quick. He gave me every shit job he could think of. Made me dig through dumpsters, canvas apartment blocks, everything. I ran away from more dogs that first year than I could count. It was hot, tiring, filthy work. And it was always worth it.
My old boss still worked out of the same crappy little office. Same phone, same beaten to hell secretary's desk. There'd never been an actual secretary. He just thought it looked more professional if people thought there was. I'd answered the phone once or twice when I started out, but those had been rare occasions. I hadn't wanted Nick to get comfortable thinking of me as 'office girl' and not 'investigator in training'.
One of the file cabinets stood open and there were papers spread all over the floor. I could see the bottom of one of Nick's shoes under the desk and there was the quiet sound of papers being shuffled and the occasional loud curse. Nick's filing system was worse than mine.
"You're such a fucking slob, Nick."
"Hah!" His head poked up over the edge of the desk and he shook one finger at me. "You forget, I've seen the fire hazard you call a filing cabinet. I know exactly where everything is, long as no one touches it." I'd alphabetized once, during a slow month. I was never, ever going to hear the end of it.
"I have a system. You got a minute?"
"Sure, sure. Gimme one sec here." He ducked back down and the shuffling grew louder, more furious. I pulled one of the heavy chairs along the wall over to the desk, picked up the pile of paper littering the seat and shifted it to the floor. I'd put it back exactly the way I'd found it before I left. Nick found what he was looking for, a receipt with something scribbled on the back, and rose from the floor. He placed the receipt in a folder and took his seat, leaning back a little in the chair. "What can I do for you, kiddo?"
"I need whatever you can find on an outfit guy from Boston. The name's Raymond Morelli." He laughed.
"You don't want to go sticking your nose around that guy. I know Morelli's name. He's boss of the top crew over that way. They don't have the iron control over the city that Marcone's got here, but hell, they're bad enough."
"That I know. I just need more info on how he works. Maybe what he's suspected of, what he's known for. If he has delusions of empire-hood. That sort of thing. Not just his reputation, but more about him. Habits. I need to get a peek inside this guy's head."
"Empire-hood? You know something you wanna share?"
"Not yet. Not for sure. He's been seen in town with Marcone though, and it makes me nervous."
"Yeah. He ain't the only one spotted with Marcone lately. Something you want to tell me?" Nick's grin was gone and he leaned forward over the desk.
"Nooo..." He reached into his desk and pulled out a small stack of glossy photos.
"I was tailing a guy on another case and what do I see but my old apprentice hanging out with people she shouldn't be." The photos were fuzzy, out of focus. Some of them had weird light anomalies writhing through them. Just one of the side effects of being around me. But I was recognizable in some of them. And so was Marcone.
"It's a job, Nick. Nothing to tell. A little extra security. That's why I need this info on Morelli." I flipped the pictures face down and slid them back across the desk to him.
"Working for somebody like Marcone ain't ever just a job. They get you and you don't ever get out. Not in one piece any rate." I bounced my heel on the floor and just stared at him.
"It's nothing Nick. I swear, I am not getting involved with Marcone. Not for long anyway. This is a one time thing and then we're done. Are you going to help me or what?"
"I'll help, I'll help. But I want you to understand how much of a shitty idea this is. I wish you'd talked to me before you took this job. Whatever he's paying you, it ain't worth it."
"Don't I know it."
~
"Bob." I rapped on the skull with my knuckles as I walked around the lab, pushing things back into their places. It'd gotten worse than usual down here.
"Yeah boss?" Candle-flame eyes lit up the skulls eye-sockets and the skull turned on his shelf, following my movements.
"Feeling up for a little research?"
"That's a rhetorical question, right? Spirit of intellect here! I live for research."
"You live for porn. Research is just a hobby for you, Bob."
"That's not true at all." Bob huffed, haughty. "My books are all academic interests. Don't go cheapening it."
"Right, of course. Sorry. I don't understand how I mistook..." I picked up the latest book he'd been reading. "Bound and Determined for anything other than a scholarly work."
"You know, you'd appreciate that one. The heroine kidnaps this macho guy and keeps him tied up in-"
"Ah!" I flung an eraser at Bob's skull. I did not need that image. No. My brain was still short circuited, because I could already see Marcone, stretched out on my little bed, arms tight, every muscle standing out as they were pulled back over his head, tied there. Maybe with some of that enchanted rope I had, maybe gagged with one of his own ties....I shook my head. "Less of that, please! Focus! I need to research defensive magic I can lay over top of some of Gard's stuff. Without her noticing."
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timeasmymeasure
Fill: Playing for the Crowd 7/?
Date: 2011-03-03 08:13 pm (UTC)I generally run stuff down myself, either through my contacts in the spirit world, or through plain old fashioned leg work. But I'd never had cause to work out in Boston. I didn't know anything about the town or the power structure out there. Luckily, I knew someone who would. Or who'd know who would know. There's a lot of 'friend of a friend' in this business.
Nick Christian had been my mentor in the investigator business. I'd pretty much followed him home one day, after he'd been around the dance studio looking into a missing persons case. I'd gone in with romantic, Bogart-esque ideas of private eye work and Nick had crushed those pretty quick. He gave me every shit job he could think of. Made me dig through dumpsters, canvas apartment blocks, everything. I ran away from more dogs that first year than I could count. It was hot, tiring, filthy work. And it was always worth it.
My old boss still worked out of the same crappy little office. Same phone, same beaten to hell secretary's desk. There'd never been an actual secretary. He just thought it looked more professional if people thought there was. I'd answered the phone once or twice when I started out, but those had been rare occasions. I hadn't wanted Nick to get comfortable thinking of me as 'office girl' and not 'investigator in training'.
One of the file cabinets stood open and there were papers spread all over the floor. I could see the bottom of one of Nick's shoes under the desk and there was the quiet sound of papers being shuffled and the occasional loud curse. Nick's filing system was worse than mine.
"You're such a fucking slob, Nick."
"Hah!" His head poked up over the edge of the desk and he shook one finger at me. "You forget, I've seen the fire hazard you call a filing cabinet. I know exactly where everything is, long as no one touches it." I'd alphabetized once, during a slow month. I was never, ever going to hear the end of it.
"I have a system. You got a minute?"
"Sure, sure. Gimme one sec here." He ducked back down and the shuffling grew louder, more furious. I pulled one of the heavy chairs along the wall over to the desk, picked up the pile of paper littering the seat and shifted it to the floor. I'd put it back exactly the way I'd found it before I left. Nick found what he was looking for, a receipt with something scribbled on the back, and rose from the floor. He placed the receipt in a folder and took his seat, leaning back a little in the chair. "What can I do for you, kiddo?"
"I need whatever you can find on an outfit guy from Boston. The name's Raymond Morelli." He laughed.
"You don't want to go sticking your nose around that guy. I know Morelli's name. He's boss of the top crew over that way. They don't have the iron control over the city that Marcone's got here, but hell, they're bad enough."
"That I know. I just need more info on how he works. Maybe what he's suspected of, what he's known for. If he has delusions of empire-hood. That sort of thing. Not just his reputation, but more about him. Habits. I need to get a peek inside this guy's head."
"Empire-hood? You know something you wanna share?"
"Not yet. Not for sure. He's been seen in town with Marcone though, and it makes me nervous."
"Yeah. He ain't the only one spotted with Marcone lately. Something you want to tell me?" Nick's grin was gone and he leaned forward over the desk.
"Nooo..." He reached into his desk and pulled out a small stack of glossy photos.
"I was tailing a guy on another case and what do I see but my old apprentice hanging out with people she shouldn't be." The photos were fuzzy, out of focus. Some of them had weird light anomalies writhing through them. Just one of the side effects of being around me. But I was recognizable in some of them. And so was Marcone.
"It's a job, Nick. Nothing to tell. A little extra security. That's why I need this info on Morelli." I flipped the pictures face down and slid them back across the desk to him.
"Working for somebody like Marcone ain't ever just a job. They get you and you don't ever get out. Not in one piece any rate." I bounced my heel on the floor and just stared at him.
"It's nothing Nick. I swear, I am not getting involved with Marcone. Not for long anyway. This is a one time thing and then we're done. Are you going to help me or what?"
"I'll help, I'll help. But I want you to understand how much of a shitty idea this is. I wish you'd talked to me before you took this job. Whatever he's paying you, it ain't worth it."
"Don't I know it."
~
"Bob." I rapped on the skull with my knuckles as I walked around the lab, pushing things back into their places. It'd gotten worse than usual down here.
"Yeah boss?" Candle-flame eyes lit up the skulls eye-sockets and the skull turned on his shelf, following my movements.
"Feeling up for a little research?"
"That's a rhetorical question, right? Spirit of intellect here! I live for research."
"You live for porn. Research is just a hobby for you, Bob."
"That's not true at all." Bob huffed, haughty. "My books are all academic interests. Don't go cheapening it."
"Right, of course. Sorry. I don't understand how I mistook..." I picked up the latest book he'd been reading. "Bound and Determined for anything other than a scholarly work."
"You know, you'd appreciate that one. The heroine kidnaps this macho guy and keeps him tied up in-"
"Ah!" I flung an eraser at Bob's skull. I did not need that image. No. My brain was still short circuited, because I could already see Marcone, stretched out on my little bed, arms tight, every muscle standing out as they were pulled back over his head, tied there. Maybe with some of that enchanted rope I had, maybe gagged with one of his own ties....I shook my head. "Less of that, please! Focus! I need to research defensive magic I can lay over top of some of Gard's stuff. Without her noticing."
Re: Fill: Playing for the Crowd 7/?
Date: 2011-03-03 08:47 pm (UTC)Re: Fill: Playing for the Crowd 7/?
Date: 2011-03-06 10:51 pm (UTC)