This was a total crock of shit.
Fifteen minutes. I had time to dry up in front of the fire and make myself a hot cuppa coffee from the kitchen in that time. And still this guy hadn't showed.
Something struck me though, as I took a sip of the coffee I should've had this morning: fifteen minutes and not a peep, and yet his shop was open. Dagmar Hahn, you are one clumsy sonuvabitch.
I took a look around. The place was nicely furnished, yes, but what I was lookin' for were hallways, doors, stairs, things like that. A shop this big usually had a second floor, maybe even a third above that that was an apartment or an attic. Places like those, people could hide their fair share of secrets.
Or a body.
I drew my pistol and thumbed off the safety.
"Dagmar Hahn? You in here pal? I'm only here to talk, it's alright."No response. Guy must've gone to ground or something.
Well only one thing to do, something that these furry idiots were good at.
Hunting.
I started with the ground floor. The back had the kitchen, a bathroom and a supply closet with foodstuffs, plates and cutlery and other unused furniture. I had a quick look in that closet, pawed around a little, then left. Nothing there.
In the main cafe area was a spiral staircase that led up to a second floor and a balcony. I went up there, nothing special either, just a couple more tables, more bookshelves, and another door. This hid a staircase that led up another floor, and was marked 'no entry staff only'.
Suspicious.
With gun raised I tried the door and found, not to my surprise, that it was unlocked. I pushed the door open slowly, carefully, and entered, gun first. The stairway was lit. That meant someone was here, and they hadn't camoflaged themselves well. Must've seen me coming from upstairs and vanished, sneaky bastard.
"Dagmar? Relax pal I'm a friend! I got sent here by Paul Santos, know him? Yeah, he sent me here, got me lookin' for you. I just need some questions answered pal, talk to me!"Still no answer. Guy was dedicated, alright.
I went up those stairs cautiously. He could've been waiting at the top with a shotgun for all I knew. I had to be careful.
Several minutes passed. I made it to the top of the steps and was greeted by silence instead of twelve gauge buckshot slamming into my chest.
I was right, though. Up here was his apartment. A quaint little residence that overlooked the street corner the shop was on. Not bad for an info broker. He could be downstairs in a jiffy to entertain customers, and retreat up here after hours to relax and observe. Not bad at all. The place even looked like a proper apartment; living room, open kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, everything was there.
But something was off. If he were here he would've definitely had heard me, seen me and would've done something by now. The silence was foreboding, t' say the least.
And the smell. I'd grown used to my own scent a long time ago; after all, give it a few decades and dead flesh smells all the same to you. I wasn't a seeker dog, that's for sure. The smell in here, though, was something else. Wet dog. The everpresent stench of death.
Gunpowder.
My gun instinctively raised to cover the hallway.
"Dag? You okay?"Inwardly I knew he wasn't. He was either injured or dead, and I was leaning towards the latter.
I advanced slowly towards the innards of the apartment. The smells grew stronger the closer I got to the hallway, and when I peered round the corner I saw why.
Beneath one of the doors, blood pooled, congealing in the cold.
Without care for the other rooms, I made my way to that one door and gently pushed it open with the barrel of my pistol. I gingerly stepped over the pool of blood and was greeted by a sight that shouldn't have surprised me, but it did.
The bedroom was trashed. Blood was everywhere; floor, ceiling, walls, I couldn't even see anything that wasn't drenched with the stuff, and that wasn't the half of it. I could see other bodies too, ripped and torn wherever they'd been in a manic frenzy of death. And in the center of it, sprawled in a morbid angel on the bed, was a half-clothed werewolf.
Dagmar.
I didn't even need to approach him to know that he was dead. The black holes in his chest told that story for me.
The stench of cordite and death hung heavy in the air, and it told me a story.
Someone, actually quite a few someones, had held up Dag here in his apartment without disturbing anything downstairs. He'd let them in, perhaps to sell them information or to do a job, and instead he got cornered. He tried to negotiate here, but the other party must've wanted him dead real badly. They underestimated how much it would take to put him down though, cause he'd gone feral and ripped through at least two full grown guys before the leader of the bunch put him down for good.
Must've used silver. Either that, or really, really big bullets.
Shit. My only lead and he was dead as a doornail.
I holstered my gun and replaced it with my phone. A quick tap, and I got Paulie.
"Yo, Paulie?"" 'Ey, I'm a little busy with the family here, so if you would be so kind -""Not a chance, Paulie. Dagmar's dead."----
"Shit.""Yeah Paulie, that's what I said."I was back at the strip club, in Paulie's office. The man was busy pacing back and forth in front of the window that looked out on the dance floor. While I'd been away for the past few hours he'd really gotten his shit back together, and the place looked brand spankin' new. He had a glass of that Fire Brandy in his hand, guy was savourin' it I could tell, since he was on fire. Figuratively, not literally.
"Alright, I'm thinking there could only be so many people that could get to a guy of his calibre. Like, what are their motives? Any ideas?"I shrugged.
"Iunno, robbery? Blackmail? Maybe whoever it was wanted somethin' outta the guy, something he refused to give.""Something that cost him his life. What secret could be so big, so influential, that he'd rather die than tell?""Well this city's full 'a secrets, Paulie. You tell me."He took a sip of his drink and set the glass down on the table, a hand thoughtfully rubbing what stubble he had on his chin.
"Well, it could also be a gang thing. You know how bad the feud is between the Nyctari and the Martovannis right now. Add to that the Reapers and the Nyte Kings, and you've got yourself a fatal foursome here, Andy. I'd say any one 'a those guys could've bumped off Dagmar, and I'm not at liberty to ask my financers if they just killed one of the biggest info brokers in the city.""Delightful. So we're up shit creek and our paddle's dead in the water. What now?"Paulie took a seat in front of me and sighed.
"Well I guess we gotta conslidate our options. Right now the whole city's in an uproar about the riots. The SSPD are giving the Undercity hell for the whole thing, and there's smaller gangs and people going around trying to take credit for the whole shitstorm. That gives us cover, relatively. But we don't have anyone to take the fight to. I don't have enough connections to dive deeper into this mess, Andy."A light slowly grew in his eyes. He had an idea, and I knew from the get go that it was a bad one.
"I know a good place to continue though.""Another of Paul Santos' great ideas, eh? Do tell."He grinned and leaned forward on his desk.
"Come back 'n work for the Martovannis, Andy."I sighed and shook my head.
"Paulie, how many times I gotta tell ya, I ain't gettin' back into the crime business man. I'm retired from that shit. I'm strictly small time now. Martovanni Senior already paid me enough dough to last me until I eventually die, and what I do take on is just enough to sustain that. Nothin' else. If I go back in this world, it's gonna stir some shit.""I know Andy, but honestly? This network needs you back, man. Things ain't been the same now that there aren't any huge power players on the field any more. Not since you and Kiddo both retired."Kiddo. An old friend. Very old. He and I were like peanut butter 'n grape jelly. He was like the firing pin to my gun. We couldn't work without each other. We started together as enforcers for the Martovannis back in the fifties, and stayed that way for fifteen years. One and a half long, bloody decades, but damn if those weren't some of the best times of my life.
I digress.
"Yeah well Kiddo wanted an out and Senior gave it to him. Me? I left when Senior kicked the bucket. Last I heard, that lunkhead ogre Ruzghul been running things poorly, not like Senior at all. Ain't that true? You're under him, for Pete's sake."Paulie sighed and nodded.
"Yeah, he was around here earlier. Wanted to know who messed up his shit. I gave him the same answer that he already had. He left just before you got here, Andy. Anyway, it's true though. Life's kinda sucky under that big asshole. Bad enough that he's got one head that doesn't understand real mob business, but he's got two. Damn if I weren't so small time I'd have capped both of those idiot heads of his. Oh, speaking of which."Hm?
Paulie opened a drawer and handed me a slip of paper.
"Ruzghul gave me this before he left. Said that I'd know who to give it to. It's for you."Puzzled, I took the paper from him and unfolded it. It simply read:
'Martovanni family estate. 7:30PM. The gazebo in the garden. Staff already expecting you. Don't be late.'
"He also said something about calling in an old favour from a family friend. He sounded like he really didn't want to though, but whoever it was suggested it and was real adamant that he did."I held the paper to my nose and took a whiff.
I smelled lavender and grapes.
I knew who it was, and it wasn't the ogre.
No, someone a little...closer to home.
-----
The Martovanni estate. Damn if this place wasn't huge.
It sat at the edge of the city, the border between Upper Somabra and the suburbs of Greensvale. Seated at the end of a cul-de-sac, the estate took up almost the whole place. The centerpiece of the whole thing was the family mansion, a huge masterpiece of concrete, plaster, marble and glass. A throwback to the good ol' days. I hadn't been back here since I'd left all those years ago. Good to see that the place was still the same, and that lunkhead ogre hadn't torn anything down. The mansion was fronted by these four huge square pools of water with fountains in them, and one huge white stone fountain in the center. Palm trees everywhere. The gardens were out back, behind the mansion and the tennis courts, just beside the outdoor pool. All lit up like it were Christmas.
The guards outside were new, and they stopped me as I approached.
"Sorry sir, no outsiders. Martovanni property. I'm afraid you'll have to turn around."
Fuck I didn't have time for this newbie shit.
"Listen pal, I'm expected by the family. Don't tell me you fresh fucks don't know that.""I'm sorry sir but I don't know who you are. Address me like that again and I'll have to force you to leave."
Sigh.
"Kid, lemme have your radio."The guard gave me a look.
"What, why?"
"Look, is your chief of security still that old fog Christopher?"With looks of confusion reigning on both their faces, the guy that was speaking to me nodded.
"Yeah, so what?"
I reached forward and grabbed the radio off his vest, ignoring his protests as I thumbed the receiver.
" 'Ey, Chris! It's Andy, you old coot! Family's expectin' me, so tell these two bozos out here to let me in!"I released the radio and the man shoved me away, frowning and grumbling even as I gave him my biggest smile, replete with teeth. A second or so later, a voice came through the radio.
"Andy? It's really you? Shit I can see you on the exterior cameras son, welcome back! Hey! You asshats! Let him in! He's worth ten times your salary! Combined!"With another grumble the guard went to the tiny shack next to the gate and buzzed me in. With a smile and a tip of my hat I went in.
"Thank you, gents. Have a nice day."-----
The place really was still the same, through and through. As I walked up the front steps to the mansion Christopher approached, a big grin on his face as he embraced me.
"Andy Fontaine diMaggio! It has been too long, Andy! Welcome back!"I returned the gesture and smiled back.
"And here I thought I wasn't coming back, Chris. How you been? Family been treating you alright?""Shit Andy, I got grandkids now, believe that? My two kids went and got themselves their own families now, I'm so proud of 'em! Makes me feel fuckin' old though! Ha!""Hey well 'least you still got a family, Chris. I'm dead."I pointed to my torn-out cheek for good measure and laughed along with Chris. The old guy had been chief of security ever since Porfiro Martovanni Senior's time, and I'd never known a more stand-up guy. He opened the door to usher me in as I took off my hat.
Inside, the mansion was just as I remembered it; huge-ass chandelier above my head, twin curved staircases that led up to the second floor from the foyer, big ol' Victorian statue in the center with a vase of flowers on a table in front of it. Very expensive, but charming and old school.
Oh I missed how this city used to be.
Ahead, the hallway extended to the back porch, where the gardens and tennis courts were. I could see a game being played right now, probably by members of the staff with some time off. I followed Chris down the hallway and out onto the porch, whereupon he gestured down the steps towards the gardens.
"Ma'am's expecting you, Andy. Gazebo down the end of the path, center of the garden.""Same as always. Hey, give my regards to your extended family when you go home, Chris.""I will, Andy. Now you better go. Don't keep her waiting."I nodded and went on my way. Ambling along the tiled path brought back many memories of the place. How I'd been hired, after my first job with Kiddo, all those things. Fond memories, they were. The gazebo was always part of them, in some way. It was where Senior loved to spend his time, eating pasta and socialising with some guest or other while he gave orders to me or Kiddo to rub out someone or to wreck a business.
Yeah. Fond memories.
Right now that same gazebo was populated by only one person, well, more like three, as two butlers stood at either entrance to the small stone sanctuary. I nodded to one of them who took my coat and hat and held onto them as the other filled a small decanter with an amber liquid that I took to be an expensive liquor. Across from me sat a lady, delicate and elegant, yet extremely deadly in a way different to my brute force. On the table between us sat hot, fresh plates of some pasta I couldn't name without tying my tongue into a knot and a platter of all sorts of breads. I took a roll from the plate and tore it in half, idly nibbling on it as I regarded the lady ahead of me.
A few moments passed, tense and uncertain, before I finally opened my mouth.
"Anthea. Nice to see you again, gal. Now, what's this about calling in a favour?"
SkyeOfStars
