Young Writers Society

December 22, 4140

9:30 AM

Leo sat next to Harry in her car and wondered how this first case was going to go. He had been hired for the job just literally yesterday, but the whirlwind was speeding up the timeline to the point where he couldn’t tell the day.

The jewelry store didn’t have any visitors yet. It actually wouldn’t open for another hour, but he knew the type that should have been stopping early for a pickup or delivery. In just about five minutes, they would have to waltz through that door and hoped for the best.

Before this point he had never met the famous Harriet Bivens, but he knew what she could do. And from the things his father had said in rare moments of soberness, she had dealt with some of the best. Mr. Beit might be a shrewd old man who could drive a hard bargain, but he certainly couldn’t be considered among the best. The second they took the first piece of rope out of the bag, he would probably crack like an egg.

And that would not be working in their favor.

“Ready to go?”

Harry didn’t wait for his answer. She jumped out of the car with the tool bag slung over her shoulder and a small blade in her hand. It might not have looked like much, but he knew the type that usually carried those. It was a weapon unique to the in betweeners of the seedy underbelly of the world, persons who needed defense against people from either side of the street. And were smart enough to conceal it with enough strength to bring someone down.

He caught up, dragging along his own bag and wondering how she was so old and coped so well with her condition.

“I’d be more careful with how you think around me. Unless you’ve forgotten who I was already?”

“Of course not, ma’am. I didn’t mean to draw any conclusions about you or your profession.”

“Come on now, Leo. If your father talked about me like that, it’s pretty obvious the kinds of business that I’ve been in for most of my life.”

He slid the thoughts of the conversations with his father away and walked with her towards the door. If there was a plan, he hadn’t been told much more than the greatest hits highlights. It felt weird to be walking in through the front door of Beit’s Fine Gems and Glassware, when he had spent so much time hanging around the back steps.

Leo slid a key out of pocket and carefully opened the front door. No one had really given him a copy of the keys to the shop, but he had taken a set for safe keeping, a just in case maneuver. This small set of the silver-plated pieces would be very valuable to a lot of people, even if he would never sell a thing like this. It was true that Leo was sometimes lacking in morals, but he wouldn’t entirely sell anyone out just for a pouch of money.

At least Harry didn’t come here with the intent of killing Mr. Beit.

They opened the door with a creek and glanced into the dimly lit shop. None of the gaslights had been turned on, only one big candle flickering by the cash register and the window shades were all drawn. For a business that was opening shortly, the state of affairs did not look well.

“I’ll light some of the gas lanterns. Beit’s office is right back there.”

Leo took a box of matches from under the checking counter and lit a few of the lamps on the wall. He considered bringing the shades up, but it was probably for the best that their presence remains a secret. There were no automatic surveillance cameras to be found in this part of the neighborhood, a big potential fine that the upper businessmen routinely took care of.

“Hey Leo, you might want to get in here.”

He wanted to question “Why.” but just continued down the corridor to the back office. Leo saw Harry standing over a form on the ground and the air left his lungs.

“Is it Mr. Beit?”

“Unless your friend is a green-skinned Creowlian, no.”

“What would one of those being doing all of the way out here? Aren’t we like five-star bounces from Crewlia?”

“Actually six. And most legal bounces don’t end in your fingertips being burnt off. But if you’re using an underground bounce, I’ve heard of this happening.”

Leo leaned down to examine the body, coughing at the burnt smell lingering over the room. He tried not to think too much about the source of the smell and looked at the tattoos on the person’s chest.

“Cussane.”

“What did you say, Leo?”

“He’s from the Cussane family. Or at least a hired gun who has worked for them before. Note the purple shamrock with three pronged thorns and the Catald medal in the middle of the design.”

“I haven’t heard much about them for a very long time. Didn’t the Matriarch die?”

Leo nodded and continued to examine the markings on the chest of the probably mercenary. The lack of a noticeable unit ranking made him uncomfortable, meaning it was either hidden or this person was a freelancer.

Harry jumped up and surprised him enough to fall backward.

“We should go check the basement. I think that Mr. Beit might have been running more than one side business.”

“What?”

“A portal. In the basement. It makes a lot of sense.”

Leo was scrambling after her again, drawing his own weapon out of a holster on his hip and preparing for whatever they might happen to find in the basement. He didn’t want to think bad about Mr. Beit. Maybe the old man had been forced into something worse or maybe the portal jumper hadn’t originated from this location at all.

“Sorry to throw possible offense at your friend, Leo. He might be innocent of this particular crime but from what you’ve told me about all of these different people involved in the ring, I’m afraid I can’t think of anyone in a good light.”

“I do understand and it’s not like this would be out of character for him. He did make moonshine for a couple hundred years.”

“Moonshine isn’t a federal offense punishable by death, so I do hope it’s not that grave of an escalation.”

They climbed down the shaky steps to the basement, a misty sort of fog hanging over the air. Harry leaned up to sniff the air, running her hand through the air once or twice and then firing a single shot into the wall. Again, Leo was startled by her different movements and almost went into the stairs.

“Did you have to do that?”

“I wanted to see how it reacted and what kind of fog that it might be. It’s definitely left over from a bad bounce reaction, so this isn’t looking very good.”

They crept further into the basement and looked up to the charred ceiling. A few pieces of insulation and dry wall hung over the pipes along the floor boards, burnt and soaking wet, creating a worse smell than the upstairs portion. The light fog turned to a dark smoke as they went along. Leo pulled a flashlight from his tool belt, trying to cut through the almost invisible obstacle in their path.

“Can you see anything up ahead?”

“No. Anything behind?”

“Just more smoke and the outline of the staircase. What do you think happened?”

“I think someone didn’t have the line hooked up correctly and tried to take too much mass through the bounce at a very quick speed. They must have tried to condense the six bounces down into three and got caught somewhere in the middle.”

Leo shuddered at the thought of being stuck in the middle of a beam and wondered whose body they might find at the exit.