this is pretty rough, but I wanted to put it up here. CL.
Chapter Two
This was the most unkindest cut of all.
Julius Cæsar. ACT III Scene 2.
“Lupis Solaris Infinitum…ah fuck I haven’t a clue what this rubbish says.”
Tis adjusted her reading glasses up on the bridge of her nose, and peered at the peeling letters.
She had to find someone who knew Latin. She really needed to find one fast.
The musky stench greeted her nostrils, she never cared for Dahlia’s Den in the first place, and since the new owner Pietro-whatshisface spread about his new ideas she liked it even less.
At least the décor was nice in the old Den, not tacky remembrances of party’s at my mother’s.
She padded down the spiral staircase, and into the lobby, a long bouncer stood at the entrance, his dark muscles shiny with sweat.
“Hey Benny, looks like you’ve been working hard tonight.”
“Yeah, a few newbie’s tried to pull a fast one.” He nodded to her.
Tis slipped passed Benny, to be greeted by a slimy weasel of a man, with graying, balding hair, a brown shaggy suit hung on his slender frame. He stood in front of a plush burgundy cushion. The little man looked up and cringed as Tis walked into the room.
“Ms. Crane,” his impish voice came out candidly, “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
The man visibly gulped and adjusted his mustard colored collar before speaking again.
“How can I be of service?”
“I liked to speak to Patti, if she’s in.”
“Why of course, second door on the right.”
Tis pushed inwards on the curtain letting in billow behind her and she skated through. The man sighed and slouched, then went back to his books.
Second door to the right was ajar, and Tis let herself in and requisitioned a section of the low red velvet couch for herself and stretched out.
And she waited. And waited, and waited so more.
Tis took out the book, and flipped through it but still nothing.
Getting up from the couch she opened the back sheer curtains and opened the back door, seeing no one she continued down the bright, white hallway until she came across a door, with a sign that said dressing room.
It was green of all colors and the tiles in the wall and ceiling were cracking.
And the end of the row of lighted mirrors, sat a figure in a blue frilly dressing gown, who was very much engrossed in putting on mascara. Tis tiptoed down to the figure and pinched it’s right side, making the figure squeal, jump and drop the mascara brush and tube frantically.
“Jesus. H Christ, sweetheart, you could have given me a heart attack.”
“I doubt it.” Tis pulled in one of the other stools to sit on.
“So Patti, or should I call you Shellie, you got that blue gown on, I have a favor I’d like to cash in on.”
“Call me Noah hon, after all that’s what my mother calls me.”
Noah turned to face Tis, and she almost laughed out loud at the thought.
“So its Noah? Why didn’t you tell me that before, would have made it a whole lot easier?”
“Seems to me,” Noah went back to brushes his eyelashes, “You never asked.”
“Whatever--doesn’t matter now, all that does is that you are proficient in Latin.”
“What doesn’t speaking Latin have to do with this?”
Noah reached for the dress on the wall, a dark blue dress with a halter top, a symmetrical and flattering on the figure.
Tis pulled on the book, and slapped in down on the counter. Noah looked up his blue eyes questioning.
“Everything.”
“Well, I will do the best I can sweetheart, but I can’t promised anything. I am afraid I’m a bit rusty.”
Noah slipped the book into his personals before returning to plaster on red lipstick, “But right now Shellie has got work to do.”
“Just take a look; I marked the page, and thanks.”
Noah bent down to look Tis straight in the eyes, then brushed his lips near her ear, “No thank you.”
Tis found her way quickly out of Dahlia’s Den as fast as she could, and managed to get out before she was hounded by any of the girls. A long time ago, she questioned their titling, for most really weren’t girls at all, just people like Noah, who found refuge in places like the Den, where image and appearance were saviors.
Tis lit another cigarette before entering into the night. The smooth, chilly breeze licked at her extremities fiercely and she wrapped her coat around her just a bit tighter. Heading off done one of the alleyways, she harried down a few steps by a small apartment and opened a welcoming door.
“Bella! Mia! It’s so good to see you!” Arturo Penzani greeted Tis with a large hug, his hefty figure enveloping her completely.
“Good to see you too, Chief.”
“Come sit,” He led her through the entry way, and into what looked like a living quarters but was actually a bar.
There was no one in the place; the silence was almost eerie in the half-dark.
“Can I get you anything Bella? Or have you just come to talk to your Uncle Artur?”
“Actually, a G and T would do me good right about now. But-”
Arturo cut her off as he poured the drink.
“Buts are never good, what is it?”
“My sources tell me that those suicides, the ones in papers – weren’t.”
He looked startled, his enormous face contorted.
“So you mean, those pretty little girls didn’t jump.”
“Exactly.” She took a swig from the cut crystal glass after studying it sharply, as Arturo always said “never could you go wrong with the right serving ware.”
“That is news.”
Tis jerked her head up; Arturo was leaning against the bar.
“I though you of all people, Chief would have heard something.”
“Nope.”
“Well anything unusual you just call me.”
“Will do Bella, anything else you want to tell me?”
“Nope, nothing new ‘cept that. So how are Dafne and Carlo?
“Buon, they’re fine Giana’s been good to them.”
Tis downed the rest of her glass and handed it back to Arturo.
“I better head, but if you hear anything send me a line.”
Tis headed for the door.
“Buona notte principessa dolce, buona notte.”
“Put that out!” The cigarette was pistol-whipped from her hand and immediately found its way to the sink.
“God damnit, Tis, do you want to kill yourself…huh?”
“Well, its beats this shit don’t it.” It was more of a statement than a question really.
Tis looked up from the paper; Allene was frowning and her attempting to stare daggers but failing. Tis thought best that now was the most opportune moment to change the subject to something more – superfluous.
“Go get some coffee, its fresh.”
Allene poured herself a cup and came to sit at the table with her.
“I don’t mean to be nagging friend or anything but really Tis this smoking it’s bound to hit you someday, and frankly it’s gross.”
“Rent’s due.” Tis had gone back the paper.
“Oh for Christ’s sakes Tis don’t change the subject, I may be your roommate, but I’m also you’re friend. You can’t keep shoving cancer sticks in you without paying a price.”
“What if it’s a price I’m willing to give?”
Allene stood up fast, “This is hopeless I’m talking to a brick wall here aren’t I? I myself am going to get ready for work. You stay out of trouble.”
“Yes ma’am.”
That at least earned a smile, albeit small, from the petite brunette in the pink fluffy bath robe.
“Hey Karis, you’re back in town, good good. I need a favor…no…just a small one. I need some information on the suicides, yeah, you can send that over to me ASAP, and that’ill be good. Thanks again.”
Tis snapped her cell shut, and turned to her computer. So far nothing, but then tonight she was going back to see Noah. Meanwhile, she’d sit and wait for the information to come to her.
It was dark by the time she made it back to Dahlia’s and she went back to Noah’s room (number 10 this time) and waited.
The door opened, but before she could get out a word one of the “girls” sauntered in.
“Heard you were looking for Patti.”
“Yes.”
“She’s not here.”
“I can see that.”
“No, she left with one of the regular’s, off about seven. Said he wanted her for the night.”
Tis swore under her breath, “Would you happen to catch his name?”
“Wilmot, Victor Wilmot.”
“Why thank you dearie, thank you oh so much.”
It wasn’t very hard to find Victor Wilmot; he owned one of the houses on Ocean and had deep pockets, very deep. Tis borrowed Allene’s Baby, her ’56 Chevy Bel Air, (her father gave her), and drove up to High Street and then cruised Ocean. Victor Wilmot lived in #1465, in a massive sand colored townhouse. Tis parked the car, and clamored up the front steps of which there were a few. After perusing the surroundings and finding just decorated lawn accessories, she rang the door bell. The maid, silly ditz that she was let Tis is without a say so.
Tis nodded to her before heading downstairs to the study where Wilmot supposed was. Cautiously, never to be caught unawares Tis’ right hand crept to where she kept one of the many guns she carried. Slowly she brought it out before turning around a dark corner at the end of the steps. Her fingers slid across the metal and cocked the hammer. The door was slightly open, light streaming golden out of the crack. Tis opened it with her gun and then turned to face the study. The barrel of the gun directly pointed at Victor Wilmot’s head.
“Well, well, well, missy, you’ve taken a wrong turn.”
The nerve of the man, he laughed, I should shoot him right now and take care of that ego problem.
Tis lifted the gun to shoot.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Tis paused, and then lowered the gun.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“That friend of yours, that’s why you came, ain’t never gonna get him without me. And that book, no it’s not here, I’ve hid it in a safe place, you wouldn’t find it if you kill me.”
Shit.
“So my good sir, how do I acquire back what you have wrongfully stolen?”
“By handing your services over to my good friend and colleague Dr. Fenmore. I do believe you are currently unemployed. Am I right?”
Tis almost laughed at the suggestion. Me, a mercenary forget it, and how the fuck does he know about my employment state.
“Well if you do want either of those nice things I suggest you cooperate. We’ll call you.”
Cocky bastard.
Tis couldn’t take it anymore, and they say appendages can and often move on their own.
Victor Wilmot took two bullets to the groin before Tis drove off towards the Inner City.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Yes.” Gabriel looked up from the letter he was reading.
Tis almost growled, before opening her mouth to speak, “I’ve lost the book.”
“What? How’s that possible?”
“Well I didn’t loose it? I gave it to Noah to translate and he got himself stolen, but that good for nothing coward Wilmot.”
“That’s not what I had in mind when I gave you the book.”
“Yeah yeah right, you know I don’t read and or speak Latin, you know I know Noah, and you know that Noah is the best translator of ancient Latin in the five cities.”
“Well, now that you mention it, it does seem coincidental.”
“Oh bugger coincidental, all I have to do now it find where he has hid them. And who is this Dr. Fenmore.”
Gabriel looked almost puzzled, “I have no idea.”
“Great, it’s like finding a needle in a haystack of needles.”
Tis opened a notebook, a brand new one with a bright lime green cover, perfectly palm-sized and clean. But that would end soon; Tis busied herself that morning with transferring the data from her computer to her notebook. Being off the force, she concluded, sucked. She could no longer access the database from her home computer that meant field work. That meant she actually had to find out information for herself, rather than through Pardo or Zach; rookies who gladly would fetch a Senior a damn cookie if it meant a good word to the Captain. And it meant she couldn’t get a hold of the files on the victims, witness list, or possible even suspects. Well legally, that is. And on top of that she still had to track down Dr. Fenmore, Noah, and the book.
The computer beeped loudly as the email notice came up on the screen.
New Mail!
Tis shuffled over to her computer and clicked on the bright red link. A long letter blinked on to the screen.
“Oh, Karis, I could kiss you right now.”
Complete with the information of the suicides from Karis, Tis slipped off over to Candies to see if she could find some more dirt to dig, have a drink, and figure out the connection between Victor Wilmot and Dr. Fenmore.
“Isn’t a bit early for G and T’s sugar?” Marge questioned before handing over the glass.
“Never.” Tis took her first swig before scanning the darkened room.
“Marge, before you’re off, has Victor Wilmot been in lately?”
The waitress pursed her scarlet red lips before answering, “Actually yes, been in all this week, usually early bird time but last few days he’d been coming in later with a little funny looking man, and his large friend. Dunno why though must be time conflictions.”
“Time conflictions my ass.” Tis grumbled.
Wendy turned back, “Whatcha say sugar?”
“Nothing.”
Wendy left Tis who was scanning the bar again.
In the back booth against the far well, a rather shriveled looking man sat across from a large ogre who wouldn’t look out of place in a morgue. She had found her mark.
Tis moved in and made herself welcome in the booth next to the back booth against the far wall.
“You took the car! I can’t believe it, I told you Wednesday I need the car for an interview and what do you do take the car. I even left a note.”
Allene was standing in the kitchen, soapy cast iron in one hand, scrubber in the other, and she looked to kill.
“Sorry, love, I totally forgot.”
“I’m sure. You always forget.”
Tis dropped her things in the living room and then went to stand in the kitchen as Allene scrubbed the rest of the dishes.
“I’ll do dishes for a week, promise.”
Allene looked up skeptically, “Promise.”
“Promise.”
“Allene, Tis! Anyone home.”
“In here.”
A tall young man sauntered in, grocery bags in hand and off one hip, sporting blue jeans and a striped shirt, and a pair of rose colored Oakley Square Wires.
“Karis.”
The bags were dropped as Karis and Allene immediately intertwined with each other. Karis dipped down to capture Allene in a passionate embrace, lips locking.
Tis just chuckled at the visual. With the two lovebirds in the house, things could get ugly. Tis shook her head the image was all wrong, No more like two fucking love-rabbits.
“And you?” Karis shook his feathered blonde head, his blues eyes sparkling.
Wrapping his arms around Tis he engulfed her in a bear hug, even lifting her off the ground slightly.
Tis took the chance and kissed him.
“Hey, lips off the boyfriend.” Allene snapped, snatching Karis quickly away.
When they broke apart, Karis looked supremely puzzled.
“Not that that wasn’t spontaneous and lovely, but what the fuck Tis was that about?”
Tis turned to leave, “Oh just a bet against myself.”
Candies was packed, filled the brim, mostly with regulars. Tis found that comforting that meant she was on home turf.
“Right on time”, she said mostly to herself before tailing the shriveled man and his accomplice.
She made herself comfortable again, and after the boys ordered drinks, a new voice joined theirs.
“So you have it?”
“Course we have it, but do you have it?”
“Yes.”
“Good, meet me at Joansie’s in a half an hour, we’ll do the trade there.”
She was amazed that these monolithic brutes had enough brain cells to keep their ‘its’ straight.
“Joansie Parker, resident of Laguna Linda, she lives off of Fillmore, number 15. You know Tis, if you just let me do a proper hack you would have to keep calling me for info.”
Karis voice carried over the line.
“True, but this is more fun. So, anything else about our Joansie?”
“None. But Tis are you sure you want to go into the Flats alone?”
“No sweat. Yeah, I’ll be just fine.”
And for just about a minute Tis almost believed herself.
Keep to the walls and shadows, girl. She told herself, keeping both eyes out; she definitely didn’t want to be caught unawares now. Laguna Linda affectionately named The Flats was the darkest part of town, home to crooks, thieves, madmen and murders; as well as most the city’s homeless and the poor, dejected poverty starved residents in substandard housing. It wasn’t a place to be in after dark, alone especially if you were a woman. In The Cleansing, a few years back, when the Commissioner and the City were working together to clean up Downtown, the smart and the fast had receded into the flat marking it as their own quickly with a few unlucky deaths in the dark. As long as the cops stayed out of the Flats, the Flats left the main city alone. No, Tis did not want to be caught alone out in the open; she certainly did not want to start a fight with the Jackie Dogs tonight.
“So now we trade?”
Tis could she through the slats boards in the retaining wall. In the dim light she could make out the little shriveled man, his friend, Victor Wilmot looking pale and very sore, a man she supposed was Dr. Fenmore, and Noah. He didn’t look to badly hurt, just a red mark on his cheek and a bruise lip; that she was glad for. Outside was a red ford mustang, flashy. Some idiot had left the keys in the ignition. Her hands inched slowly inside her jacket to the cold metal and warm grips of her Berettas. She was going to need those very soon. And she prayed as she made her way to the door that her luck would hold out.
“Allrighty boys, what we have here is a seizure of property, Noah, there’s a T-Bird outside, get in it. You four stay where you are. My fingers are trigger happy today, might slip and shoot something I don’t mean to.”
A big tank of a man rushed at her, and she fired half her round into his chest, blood spattered crimson everywhere. Tasting it on her own lips, it thrilled her into cold-calculated action. It took two shots to the head to bring the little shriveled man down. And she was left with just Victor Wilmot and the Doctor. She had a gun pointed at each, her black leather sticking her skin.
She turned towards the Doctor. “I haven’t contemplated what I’m going to do yet.” The man cringed and shied a bit.
“Now as for you,” She gestured with her gun toward Victor Wilmot’s groin, “I thought we took care of you earlier, I must be getting sloppy, in my old age.”
“You never find--”, the bullet that blasted away half his face shut him up quite fast.
Reaching inside Victor Wilmot’s very plush overcoat she found the book, they never learn do they?
She gestured for the Doctor to walk ahead of her, as she paraded him out to the car.
“This yours Doc?”
She thought she saw him faintly nod in the moonlight.
Noah was sitting in the front seat, looking hazed, but he smiled when he saw she had the doctor.
“Where’s the rest?”
“Left ‘em in there, the vultures are bound to feed soon.”
She got the Doctor in the car between them, with Tis at the wheel. She handed Noah a gun.
“And if he even moves a muscle, don’t hesitate to shoot. Got it?”
Noah clicked the hammer, “Got it?”
Tis revved the car, and pushed on the gas, luck was a fickle thing like time and she was running out of both.
She knew she was speeding and probably kicking up a lot of attention, but all she had to do was make it into Sacred Oaks and they would be clear. It also doesn’t help I’m driving a red T-Bird either.
She rounded the corner of 25th and Brawley merging into the road that led straight into Sacred Oaks.
Four more blocks.
She heard the siren before she saw red. A roguish looking beat cop immediately latched on to her tail. Through all her mental cursing Tis barely heard him ask her through his PA to pullover. She did not wanting to incur the wrath of any more beat cops.
As he condescendly sauntered to her car Tis gave him the once over. She didn’t know him, but he looked vaguely familiar with his shaggy brown hair and black eyes. At soon as she was at her window, he flashed the flashlight in her eyes.
God damn it! But she stopped herself from opening her big mouth. Tis you’re not on the force anymore you can’t push them around and skirt the law like you used to.
“Excuse me miss,” He said languidly, “May I see your license and registration?”
Tis fumbled for her wallet and finally tugged out her license, the registration was even harder, her glove compartment full of all sorts of oddments. As she looked over, Noah was impassive and she flashed the Doctor a stare hoping he new now was not the time to open his mouth.
After calling it in, the cop turned back to face her, “I’m sorry ma’am, “ he said hesitantly, but y’all have ta come back to the station with me.”
“Am I under arrest, sir?” Tis tried not to get flustered and spoke through her teeth.
“No ma’am but I think it’s best if you come with me.”
Well that was smooth now wasn’t…
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