Who: Elliot and Bertie What: Case updates and advice Where: Nightwatch HQ When: 5 February 1889 (backdated like woah!) Ratings/warnings: PG
Chief Orwell’s chair creaked as he leaned back in it, gesturing in the direction of his office door. “Rogers, come in. Good of you to drop by. Eden’s briefed me on what he’s found, and he and I think it best you hear it from him as well.”
Bertie began to close the door behind Rogers, but Chief Orwell held up a hand to stop him. “I’ve another case to discuss. You two can sit down here. It’s better than that cupboard you’re in, Eden. Tea? Eden knows where to fetch it. Fifteen minutes, no more, I’ll want the desk back,” he warned, and nodded again to Rogers as he passed.
Bertie closed the door and slipped behind Chief Orwell’s desk, feeling awkward but entirely unwilling to sit in his supervisor’s chair. “Thank you for coming in,” he echoed, offering a nod of his own in place of a more formal bow. Americans didn’t tend to stand on ceremony quite so much as the British did.
Elliot raised an eyebrow at the Chief’s abrupt departure and at the junior Inspector’s taking his superior’s place behind the desk. His lips twitched slightly as he nodded in return. The youngster’s demeanor was far cry from that of Jeffords’, who didn’t hesitate to unleash withering commentary on anything he found wanting in the Pinkerton, which was just about everything.
He restrained the urge to play into the ‘cowboy’ stereotype and put his feet up on the edge of the desk, but relaxed into the chair instead and waited for the youngster to speak up. “Well your note said you had information on the case, reckoned I should hear it from the horse’s mouth instead of waitin’ on Jeffords to tell me what he thinks I should know later.”
Bertie hesitated, choosing his words with caution as he eased down into the chair. "What I'm about to tell you involves some politics. Not only the Stahl Coven, but other...rogue elements...which we are tracking down on our own soil. The Unseelie Court has tasked me with finding certain artifacts and weapons stolen from the Sidhe, which appear to match the sort taken by your Americans. I've recently re-acquired one, which turned up in a rather...unsavory...marketplace. I wasn't able to determine whether it had been sold, or stolen again, and to whom the trail might lead."
Bertie paused. "I'm sorry--did you want tea?" There was far more to come, so Mr Rogers might have need of it.
“Tea would be welcome, thank you.” Elliot took advantage of the segway to order his thoughts after the artillery round Eden had just dropped on him. Stolen Fae artifacts?? Holy hell, if that meant what he thought it did then he’d be wiring Chicago from the London office as soon as this meeting was over. There was more going on than he imagined.
Bertie went out to make up a tray with two cups and tea still hot in the pot. One of the witches kept it so with charms Bertie had asked after and only barely understood, but was still grateful for.
When he returned to serve Mr Rogers, Bertie sat down again with his own cup and added, "With your blessing and Chief Orwell's, we're considering the use of a facsimile in an assassination attempt - staged, carefully so - on a Member of Parliament. We wouldn't let the real weapon out of safe keeping, but I would implicate the Stahl Coven after the fact." Bertie took a steadying sip of his tea. "We thought it might draw them out, but you know their temperament. Can you imagine their reaction, if such a thing were implied in the papers?"
“I thought I knew their temperment.’ Elliot shrugged and accepted the tea. “That was before one of them decided to suicide rather than stay a prisoner. But I can guess: they’ll use it to further their own goals and won’t deny it. Might even get some of them out to try a real attempt of their own, after all they’ve already done it once.” Or that was the working assumption right now anyway.
Bertie's mouth twisted, pensive. "Would you recommend it, then, or advise against it? I wouldn't hold you to your answer, only...you know them best, even if they have turned out to be unpredictable. It would help a great many people if this incident could be blamed on them, but I wouldn't want that to lead to more bloodshed."
Elliot paused for a moment’s consideration then shrugged his shoulders. “Make them look incompetent and it won’t help their cause. Seems to me like things might explode regardless of who gets the blame, but putting the blame publically on outsiders is probably the smart play. I don’t see how it could make your situation any worse.” It was a way for all sides to save face by blaming the outside interlopers regardless of who was really behind the incident.
Bertie nodded. "We'll go ahead with it, then, unless something happen to change our plans. I hope no harm comes of it, but as you say, we hope that blaming someone outside of our politics will keep the situation from becoming any more fraught."
He paused a moment, then admitted, "There is one thing more. A body has turned up in a local funeral home, identified as a young gentleman by the name of Sir Allen Bixby. The gentleman in question was in the habit of dressing for his evenings out with friends in the clothes of a commoner, and was so found, so it took some time for his body to be claimed." Bertie hesitated. "I hope that I managed to allay the suspicions of the mortician, but it was quite clear Sir Bixby was the victim of a vampire kill. We have no evidence of which person might be responsible, and no motive, although with vampires, sometimes it is only hunger, and nothing more personal."
Bertie opened up a file of information and offered it to Mr Rogers. "Here are my notes, a photograph, the mortician's report, and statements from close associates. I - and others - believe him to have no connection to the supernatural." Bertie winced. "Save this, of course."
Elliot took the file and started reading, making sure to take his time and go over it thoroughly. He wasn’t quite sure why Eden as showing him the file but figured there might be a connection with the Stahls. “Seems like a feral kill all right, wouldn’t surprise me if one of the Stahl’s underlings were behind it.” He looked up at Bertie. “Is that what you were thinking?”
Bertie spread his hands. "I don't know. I only thought, if there was a connection, I should bring it to your attention. I don't have any reason to suspect them, but it would take a bold - or very hungry - vampire to kill outright within the boundaries of London. They likely didn't know who he was, but even so...it's a risk."
Bertie looked down at the file. "I suppose I'm even hoping it might be the work of the Stahls. No one here wants to have to go after an English coven for murder. Though we will," he said earnestly, looking up at Mr Rogers, "if the evidence directs us. We won't turn a blind eye."
“That’s good.” Elliot nodded vigorously. He thought the English were far too deferential to the bloodsuckers, and more likely to turn a blind eye than not if they could get away with it. Hopefully Eden was right. “We have vampires that live within the law in the States, and they’re left alone to mind their own business. But we find out about one that decides they’re above the law then we go after them with everything we’ve got.” He looked Eden in the eye. “At home we only have one penalty for supernaturals that kill humans.”
The way Mr Rogers said this caused Bertie to imagine infamous gun-slinging sheriffs shooting supernaturals at the first sign of trouble, though he thought - he hoped - this wasn't the case.
"Yes, well," he said nervously, "we take all crimes very seriously here, and no one is above the law. This is an open investigation, but if you find some clue that may have been missed, I would be glad to have you bring it to my attention."
Bertie paused, then asked hopefully, "Has there been much progress, on your own case? The Stahls?"
“Not as much as I’d like.” Elliot grumbled. Aside from the capture of the one Stahl Lieutenant who’d promptly suicided it had been slow going. “They’re survivors and playing a long game, I haven’t been able to smoke ‘em out yet but I’m getting closer.” It was frustrating, he’d never had a case drag on this long and he was missing having magical backup. Christophe was good at what he did and had been damn handy to have around. A good card player too.
Bertie nodded. His own cases felt that way, dragging on and on without any sign of conclusion. "I'll keep you informed of any developments," he assured Mr Rogers. "Thank you for coming in."
Elliot shook his hand. “Appreciate that Inspector, and if you need backup from time to time while I’m here just let me know. Thank you for the information.” And with an easy smile he nodded and made his way out.