FC: WTF 4H

Setup

Fae 5 / Noir 6 -- Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills / With the Fishes
Fae 1 / Noir 1 -- Hired by Leonora Kwan (cleared) to recover her property

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The streets were suprisingly loud for the early hour, or maybe it was the pounding in my head. Every stack of papers to hit the concrete was like a slap to my cerebellum. I managed nearly three hours of sleep before the fourth missed call wheedled its way into my consciousness. I would have ignored it and curled up for a lucky round seven with Jimmy, but rent was due this week. Unless I earned some scratch soon, my dear Mr. Beam was going to find another woman’s bed to haunt. There are also some people in this town that you do not say no to, and Leonora Kwan was high on the list.

Bleary eyed and addled in the predawn gloom, I stepped off the curb to a chorus of squealing brakes and shouted curses. Cookie elves are suprisingly foul-mouthed; goes to show what good branding can do. Adrenaline surged through my system, washing back fatigue as I exchanged gestural social protocols with the diminutive drivers. Daughters of Folkvangr have greater tolerance to the vices of the human world, but, compliments of my mortal father, it wouldn’t last forever. Given he’s also the reason I’m not allergic to iron, I figure we’re square on the whole changeling thing.

Strains of salt water and iodine and fresh cut grass danced in the wind with increasing frequency as I rounded the last block. The blinds of the storefront jittered and the door crept just open enough for me to pass. The fishmonger’s gaze darted up and down the block as I squeezed past him, the frigid air soothing my temples. I doubted it was doing as much for the dead guy in the crustacean tank.

Cleveland Sykes. I guess the rumors were true after all. The buzz at the Ever After tavern was that C&B had been on to something big. Given their success rate, I hadn’t paid it much mind at the time, but now Banna was missing, crayfish were bobbing for Sykes, and the grand dame of fae of fences was calling me at ungodly hours. Maybe I could use some new branding.

For a bourbon-soaked second I wondered if the old lady wasn’t setting me up, but I dismissed the thought just as fast. Leonora Kwan didn’t need patsies. If she ordered a move on Sykes, he would have vanished as thoroughly as Banna had. Rumor had it the old lady had some especially lush topiary on the grounds of her lakeshore estate.

Sykes also looked fairly intact, aside from the whole dead thing. I had a feeling Leonora would have been less tender in her minstrations. Apex predators aren’t exactly known for their mercy and the lady had an image to maintain. I excused myself to the curb and texted her I’d take the case.

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Scene 1

Fae 5 / Noir 1 -- Fae, Big Mama Morgan, Danger +0
4♣️ — What uncommon skills or abilities does the suspect posess that might aid them in committing the crime?

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So what in hell was Sykes doing impersonating a buoy at the fishmonger’s when he ought to be laying low. Vengeance for Banna seemed like a stretch; they loved each other, but they both loved the Dust more. Maybe Sykes needed to score.

I made a less addictive score at the bakery around the block. Not only were the cannoli fresh, but their overnight surveillance included a wide angle on a familiar green Range Rover in the back alley. Big Mama Morgan – matriarch of the Morgan crime family. What in hell was she doing at the fishmonger’s in the wee hours of the morning?

It seemed an unlikely place to stash pixies, but it did provide a steady stream of foot traffic with parcels no one would be in a hurry to search. Maybe they were using the fish smell to cover up Dust processing. Then again, Little Petey was being paroled this week; for all I knew he really loved halibut.

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I flicked the last of the cannoli crumbs from my jacket as I circled back around the block. The fishmonger, Faruk, was even less eager to let me in a second time. The ever-increasing guest list obviously wasn’t helping his anxiety any. Calling the cops was never an option, but he struck me as more afraid than calculating. Whatever was going on, I needed him to level with me and he looked like he’d been threatened enough already.

Two bruisers in off-the-rack suits finished hauling Syke’s waterlogged corpse from the tank and laid him out on the floor. A quick search of his pockets and person turned up a mostly empty wallet and no obvious injuries, cranial or otherwise. I leaned on his chest and water fountained from his mouth. So still alive when he went into the tank. Wasn’t that charming. I stepped back and the bruisers whisked him into the hatchback of a waiting Bronco and out of sight. I had a feeling the old lady’s crepe myrtle were in for a treat.

Faruk seemed to deflate as the engine sounds faded. It seemed absurd now, with sunlight peeking through the cracks in the blinds, but the puddle on the floor gave mute testimony to the night’s events. I was poking about for a mop, mostly, when I stumbled across the card room and Faruk’s floodgates finally gave way.

An ogre named Fish Eye had turned up one evening and commandeered Faruk’s back room for an illegal casino under threat of a brutal death. Faruk was in way over his head, which had a tendency to make mortals do some crazy shit, but if he’d had any teeth, he’d have shown them to Fish Eye then. How long he kept them after would be another kettle of fish entirely.

And even if he had snapped, locking Sykes in the tank didn’t track. The tank was nearly four feet off the ground, how would he have gotten him in there? And why bother when there were two deep freezes and an ice machine available? My gut said Faruk was clean.

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I called a cab from the fishmongers and directed it downtown. Kwan’s goons had left me a cash retainer and I was paying my rent early for once. I considered the suspect pool as morning traffic trudged light-to-light, seranaded by hair metal and interest-free financing.

Trunch was at the top of my list. He was Banna’s cousin and partner in crime, right up until she met Sykes. Drow tend toward the impulsive and three years is a long time to wait on vengeance, but maybe Banna’s disappearance pushed him over the edge. Or more likely, her ire was the only thing holding him back. It wouldn’t be the first or second time he sabotaged a job as payback.

Not that any self-respecting drow was awake at this hour. Once the rent was paid, I was headed back to my office to sleep, shower, and fry up the salmon Faruk wrapped for me. By the time I stumbled into the management office and counted out bills it had become my mantra, sleep-shower-fish, sleep-shower-fish. The kid at the desk gave me a weird look but he took the cash and wrote me a receipt all the same.

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Afternoon’s long-fingered shadows were poking at the file cabinet when I woke up. The headache was back, but lower now. I placated it with caffeine and stumbled to the shower, where I decided to forgo the frying of fish in my now sauna-esque office and head back to Ever After instead. If I was lucky Truncherface would be there, and if not, the old lady was paying per diem.

The tavern’s AC kept better pace with the heat than mine. Ruby was behind the bar and she’s not a bad sort for an Epimelide. I ordered the special and slipped her a $50 for the scoop. One plate of steak and eggs and half a pot of coffee later I remained quarryless. Nor was he expected, according to Ruby. No one had seen Trunch since Banna’s probable death at the hands of Kwan’s household guards. I no longer harbored any illusions on that front. If C&B were going to ride again, it was in the old lady’s wood chipper.

I asked Ruby to put out the word that I was looking for Trunch and settled in with two pieces of pie and a hair of the dog. I was ready to call it when my radar tweaked. Someone was watching me, someone with less than honorable intentions. Call it hereditary instinct or tactical awareness, but I’m the daughter of a valkyrie; I know when I’m being sized up. Or maybe it’s that I spend so much time sizing up other people – game recognize game.

I tried to keep my posture casual as I scanned the mirror behind the bar. He was just inside the door, phone in hand. Two steps in his direction and he’d bolt. I needed to get him somewhere we could chat. I cashed out with Ruby and headed back towards the restrooms. There’s a stairwell that leads up to the rooftop smoking deck. In a few hours it would be buzzing with patrons, but at the moment it was still broiling in full sunlight. A few empties kept watch over the tables in silence. I stacked some crates to hide behind and did my best to emulate them.

I sweated it out in silence for twelve minutes before I heard feet on the fire escape. Green ears peeked over the ledge. I waited until he crept to the middle of the roof, removed from both the stairwell and the fire escape, and forwent subtley for naked violence.

Drow are crafty AF, but they’re not particularly intimidating. If I gave him the opportunity, I had no doubt he’d run me in circles till sunrise, but if I scared him enough, he wouldn’t be able to lie to me. Daggers are scary. Steel daggers than sizzle fae flesh are scarier.

I felt the flashes of truth as Green Ears stammered out his story and my stomach turned. He was practically a kid and terrified. I let go of his throat and the kid crab walked backwards to the stairwell in a panic, eyes on me the whole time. Lovely. Maybe I could drown some kittens as an encore. I gave him a three minute headstart and headed home to take another shower; I felt dirty.

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Freshly re-scrubbed, I cracked a bottle and a notebook and considered the facts as I waited out the sun. Trunch and Sykes. There was no love lost there, and he was probably definitely involved the robbery, actively or after the fact, but stuffing Sykes in a lobster tank would be an odd play for Trunch.

According to the cousin I’d terrorized, Trunch thought I did it. He knew I was working for Kwan and figured I killed Sykes to get her property back. Given that I’d been working for Kwan less than 12 hours, Trunch was either watching the fishmonger already or someone pointed him at me. It wasn’t a bad plan – Trunch kills me or I turn him over to the old lady – either way loose ends are knotted on someone else’s getaway. But if Trunch was looking for the statue, then he didn’t have it.

By the time the neon started to replace daylight I was down to three options. I opened the window to the breeze as Jimmy and I debated our next move.

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I called back over to Ever Afters. Ruby was already off shift but left a message that I could catch her at the Cosmic Turtle until 8. I told myself expenses were part of the service as I peeled a couple hundreds from the old lady’s retainer and locked the now depressingly thin envelop in the safe. The rent was in but I needed to be careful if I also wanted luxuries like AC and hot water. Jimmy was sweet but he wasn’t exactly a cheap date. I dressed him up in a travel mug and we headed out.

The Turtle is subdued by fae standards with a mostly upscale clientele. Ruby looked the part but her companion huddled in his chair with an air that reeked of sulk. It wasn’t until I reached the table that I realized it was Trunch’s cousin Green Ears swaddled in a coat and tie far too large for him. He didn’t looked pleased to see me. I ordered a round by way of apology and did my best to appear non-threatening.

Mostly they confirmed what I already knew or assumed, though they swore Trunch had no involvement in the actual theft. The kid tracked Sykes to the fishmongers and sat on it, then I showed up, closely followed by the old lady’s goons and Syke’s corpse. The two of them nearly radiated conviction; it was possible Trunch had the kid snowed, but convincing Ruby was no mean feat. You would not believe the shit men say to nymphs.

It sort of made sense when you considered how much debt Sykes was in – a three-way split wasn’t going to cut it. Factor in the longstanding trust issues and maybe I could buy it. Believable or not, Green Ears and I agreed to a ceasefire, witnessed by Ruby, and he fled into the night.

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The breeze was refreshing after the stilted ice box of the Turtle. With no destination in mind, I headed south on Pecoe and debated what I was going to tell the old lady. I made it about three blocks before a limo pulled to the curb. As the door opened I caught a wave of something reminiscent of the fishmonger, salty and earthy, and a beautiful green-haired women beckoned from the dark interior. Well what do you know, Jenny Haniver.

I settled onto the rear facing bench as the car merged back into traffic. Jenny offered me Scotch in a cut crystal glass. Say what you like about the fae, but they’re excellent hosts. I brushed her fingers as I took the glass but all I felt was calculation and expection. She thought I had the statue and she was waiting to hear my demands.

She wielded silence like a weapon, but I’ve seen my share of battles. I tossed back the drink, grabbed the decanter and sloshed her top shelf into Jimmy’s travel mug while I waited. Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. “You really don’t have it.”

“Nope. “

She signaled the driver and dropped me back at the curb without another word. And then there were two.

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I was about half a mile from Hellblazers, the Morgan family bar; the walk helped ground my swirling thoughts. Mama was Sykes’ pixie dust dealer; there was no question he was in deep.

Jenny hired Sykes to pull the robbery, which obviously didn’t go to plan, and she was more than capable of convincing Sykes to get into the tank of his own volition, but then she’d have the statue and no reason to offer rides to drunken changelings. She still wanted the goods, but not enough to tip her hand.

So why wait two weeks to move the statue? Trunch. He sat on Sykes as long as he could but eventually the drow relaxed. With the score and no Banna, Sykes double-crossed Jenny and tracked Mama down. But then why would Mama kill him? Dead men rarely pay their debts. It made more sense for Mama to let the Morgan family younglings use him to break in their boots, as a warning to other clients.

Mama wasn’t inclined to see me at first, but she reconsidered after I told the bouncer in the spiked collar that old lady Kwan’s men would be by for their doohickey. Spike escorted me to the VIP room but he wasn’t happy about it and no one offered me so much a well shot. At least Jimmy hadn’t deserted me.

Mama admitted to being in the card room but swore she had idea what Sykes was up to. According to her, he showed up unannounced at the game and offered up the statue in exchange for his debt and a kilo of dust. Mama was considering it when Fish Eye came back from the kitchen and lost his shit.

Apparently the missing statue was a totem used in banishments. Seeing the statue and smelling Jenny’s involvement (possibly literally), Fish Eye seized Sykes by the throat and deposited him in the lobster tank. Mama and the other players watched him drown as Fish Eye ground the totem into increasingly smaller pieces, and then they finished the hand.

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I didn’t get to mentioning Mama or Jenny when I called my report in to Mrs Kwan, but I had a feeling Faruk was going to get his storeroom back.