Post by johandenerad on Apr 17, 2007 11:43:36 GMT
Humba'el's bug will be a good start for getting some information on these vampires and their operation, but I feel I should be doing more. Not personally, of course. But I have someone who will be very useful, I think, as long as he's careful.
The last time I was with Janson (I shudder at the thought - he's so much less interesting now he's off the booze) I pumped him for all the information he'd give me on the people in his department. This was after I'd had a unusually long but usually confusing conversation with the Minister of Dust about where we should be expanding our influence in the mortal sphere - the police force seemed a good bet, given that it would give the Lions extra manoeuvrability, I already had a foothold there and it would also help with my unsavoury activities.
And so the pillow-talk came to a John Lacey, and idealistic but hopeless new detective in narcotics; Janson gave his typically boring, cynical analysis concluding with how the boy would 'see the realities' of the world we lived in soon enough. Smiling inwardly at Janson's ignorance, I agreed. But some part of Jessica, hopeless romantic that she always was (even in the face of what happened, which often gives me cause to admire her), was intrigued by a man who wanted nothing more than to make the world a better place.
I left soon after with all the information I needed to find Lacey i.e. his name. I watched where his fate was taking him for a while, and it reminded me of how Jessica used to watch soaps and really care about all the horrible things that would happen to the cardboard cut-outs that jerked awkwardly about the screen. I found myself caring for the boy. He wasn't stupid, he just cared too much. Or he let it show too much, and that didn't help him with his investigations, or with the other jackasses in his department.
He was looking into a small peddling ring, some real minnows who would have got eaten by something bigger in a month or two anyway, at the time I decided to contact him. He'd been alienating the people he needed to talk to to get to these guys through his frustration and disillusionment with how the other cops were treating not only him but his case. One anonymous tip off later and he was not only bringing in the minnows, but one of the finger-men from a much bigger operation who had been sent to teach the small-fry's a lesson, who had of course just happened to be there when I sent John.
This gave him some much needed self-confidence, he at least thought he was doing something right. It let him get back on track with his girlfriend, who I could tell had been thinking of getting out, and it steeled him a little against the shit he got from his workmates. Still, he wore his heart on his sleeve as much as ever, and his new found confidence wasn't going to last.
I didn't want to have to keep helping him. I wanted him to be able to stand on his own two feet, maybe give him a chance to make his own way. Plus I was beginning to feel a bit too much like a voyeur, at least that's what I told myself, but honestly I was getting too jealous of his girlfriend and how good he was to her. So anyway, after a couple more tip-offs, he worked out it was the same person each time, and asked why I was helping him. I told him I was an interested party and stopped all his questions after that, asking him only one thing; to put his trust in me. If he wanted to really help this city, he would, and he'd find out about me in the fullness of time. If he asks the right questions, of course.
And so I'll ring him. I'll put him on to Charlie Smith and the 101, tell him to be careful, and see what he turns up. I go to a random phone box in the centre after my gym trip this evening.
"Hello?"
He's got Jeff Buckley playing in the background. I find myself smiling. He's priceless.
"I have some more information for you, Mr. Lacey."
There is a pause, as if he's deliberating whether or not to go through his usual list of questions - he decides not to.
"Let me get a pen... ok, shoot."
"Before you have it, there is something important you need to understand. This information is not pertaining to any investigation you currently have running, at least not directly. Following it up will likely place you in danger, especially if you were to do so officially. You cannot tell anyone about this, and you will have to act with the utmost care."
He waits for a moment, but I can tell he's excited. He usually gets a thrill out of our little conversations. I think I do too.
"Sure. Go on."
"Charlie Smith. He sometimes frequents the 101, the club in the centre. He's involved with drugs. But he's part of something bigger. Much bigger. Watch him and the people he knows, but whatever you do, don't let yourself be seen."
I wonder if this is a good idea. Well, he wants to clean up the mean streets. He should see how mean they really are.
"The more you get, the more I can tell you. Other than that, good luck."
I hang up before he gets a chance to reply. Time to go home, I think.
The last time I was with Janson (I shudder at the thought - he's so much less interesting now he's off the booze) I pumped him for all the information he'd give me on the people in his department. This was after I'd had a unusually long but usually confusing conversation with the Minister of Dust about where we should be expanding our influence in the mortal sphere - the police force seemed a good bet, given that it would give the Lions extra manoeuvrability, I already had a foothold there and it would also help with my unsavoury activities.
And so the pillow-talk came to a John Lacey, and idealistic but hopeless new detective in narcotics; Janson gave his typically boring, cynical analysis concluding with how the boy would 'see the realities' of the world we lived in soon enough. Smiling inwardly at Janson's ignorance, I agreed. But some part of Jessica, hopeless romantic that she always was (even in the face of what happened, which often gives me cause to admire her), was intrigued by a man who wanted nothing more than to make the world a better place.
I left soon after with all the information I needed to find Lacey i.e. his name. I watched where his fate was taking him for a while, and it reminded me of how Jessica used to watch soaps and really care about all the horrible things that would happen to the cardboard cut-outs that jerked awkwardly about the screen. I found myself caring for the boy. He wasn't stupid, he just cared too much. Or he let it show too much, and that didn't help him with his investigations, or with the other jackasses in his department.
He was looking into a small peddling ring, some real minnows who would have got eaten by something bigger in a month or two anyway, at the time I decided to contact him. He'd been alienating the people he needed to talk to to get to these guys through his frustration and disillusionment with how the other cops were treating not only him but his case. One anonymous tip off later and he was not only bringing in the minnows, but one of the finger-men from a much bigger operation who had been sent to teach the small-fry's a lesson, who had of course just happened to be there when I sent John.
This gave him some much needed self-confidence, he at least thought he was doing something right. It let him get back on track with his girlfriend, who I could tell had been thinking of getting out, and it steeled him a little against the shit he got from his workmates. Still, he wore his heart on his sleeve as much as ever, and his new found confidence wasn't going to last.
I didn't want to have to keep helping him. I wanted him to be able to stand on his own two feet, maybe give him a chance to make his own way. Plus I was beginning to feel a bit too much like a voyeur, at least that's what I told myself, but honestly I was getting too jealous of his girlfriend and how good he was to her. So anyway, after a couple more tip-offs, he worked out it was the same person each time, and asked why I was helping him. I told him I was an interested party and stopped all his questions after that, asking him only one thing; to put his trust in me. If he wanted to really help this city, he would, and he'd find out about me in the fullness of time. If he asks the right questions, of course.
And so I'll ring him. I'll put him on to Charlie Smith and the 101, tell him to be careful, and see what he turns up. I go to a random phone box in the centre after my gym trip this evening.
"Hello?"
He's got Jeff Buckley playing in the background. I find myself smiling. He's priceless.
"I have some more information for you, Mr. Lacey."
There is a pause, as if he's deliberating whether or not to go through his usual list of questions - he decides not to.
"Let me get a pen... ok, shoot."
"Before you have it, there is something important you need to understand. This information is not pertaining to any investigation you currently have running, at least not directly. Following it up will likely place you in danger, especially if you were to do so officially. You cannot tell anyone about this, and you will have to act with the utmost care."
He waits for a moment, but I can tell he's excited. He usually gets a thrill out of our little conversations. I think I do too.
"Sure. Go on."
"Charlie Smith. He sometimes frequents the 101, the club in the centre. He's involved with drugs. But he's part of something bigger. Much bigger. Watch him and the people he knows, but whatever you do, don't let yourself be seen."
I wonder if this is a good idea. Well, he wants to clean up the mean streets. He should see how mean they really are.
"The more you get, the more I can tell you. Other than that, good luck."
I hang up before he gets a chance to reply. Time to go home, I think.
