David slids into the seat across from Marco, tapping his fingers against the table, then stealing Marco's coffee. It isn't a planned meeting, but it's only a day after Marco had given him the assignment so he figures he's near as expected. "Now, are you going to remember this or should I write it down?"
David clearly as a death wish.
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David fans out from the Fury, hitting businesses he knows from experience don't know him well but are owned by sympathetic Catholic types who will understand and do everything they can to help him. He made it about a mile out from the Fury, standing in a tiny drugstore and retelling his sad story for the tenth time, eyes glistening with unshed tears as Mrs. Giovani, the wife of the store owner he's talking to, clucks and pats his arm, giving him a cup of tea while Mr. Giovani studies the picture. David goes through the story again in Italian, explaining how the short dark man drawn in the picture had turned the head of his dear, sweet, innocent sister and taken her virtue, leaving her in a family way. He's looking for him to convince him to do the honorable thing.
Mr. Giovani clicks his tongue then tells David in a low voice that he thinks, perhaps, this is not a man David wants as a brother, but, but if it is too late, (it is, David assures him), then he wants to go across the street to the diner. The man in the picture is not there this morning, Mr. Giovani had not seen him go in through the large windows at the front of the drugstore, but a man he sees often with the dark man was in there. Tall. Blond. Worth talking to if David wants to locate the man who'd dishonored his sister.
David nods hugely, wiping his eyes and taking a shaking breath to center himself before thanking Giovani and his wife before heading across the street and locating Stellan immediately. He straightens his shoulders from the scared boy he'd been across the street, to a cocky boy- but still a boy, not the 30 year old man he is. He gets a cup of coffee, then saunters to Stellan's table, sitting down across the table from him.
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Marco knows he can find out information himself. He also knows that his ways of gathering information tend to be conspicuous.
That's why he's going to talk to David. David don't look like much, but the fella knows his onions when it comes to getting the low down on someone. Once the someone's identified - that's when Marco comes in.
A couple of words with Joseph, and Marco slips through to the back, down the hidden stairs to the cellar, leaning back against the door and folding his arms. "Marzello. The boss needs information."
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John's busy, sure, but that doesn't mean that he's not aware of the sudden noise of movement outside in the corridor - and neither's his guest. Twisting free, he grabs for the key, unlocks the door, sees the commotion - and yeah, there's not many things to cause that scale of panic.
He makes sure the client's dressed and safely out, then heads back - stupid, maybe, but Scott's probably still in there and he wants to know what the hell's going on - so grabs for the nearest person, catching them by the arm, and pulling them against the wall out of the path of folk running by.
"What's the story?" he demands, without preamble, and completely ignoring the fact that he's only wearing pants, suspenders hanging loose around his hips. No shoes, no shirt. It's not a time to hang around worrying about modesty.
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