Modern Business Tactics
London was never truly silent, even at this hour of the night. Perhaps to the average person it was, but it was very difficult to get into the right sort of mood to be an average person if you were paranoid. The merest whispers and squeaks and trickles in the dark alleys could have been anyone. They could have meant doom. Even in these dark, empty alleys there was the lingering sense that someone was watching, listening. Someone heard quick footsteps that just barely dodged the puddles, the rustle of fabric and the occasional sound of something that sounded remarkably like a head bashing against the brick, sometimes accompanied by a stifled curse.
Even so, Izzy couldn't help but grin like an idiot, which at this pace and in this weather was a surefire way to feel like all the grime in the city was collecting on your teeth. By all rights, he shouldn't have been this happy. He'd taking every back-alleyway he knew when in any other case the journey would have taken him ten minutes at most. His clothes, however well they set off his figure, were likely never meant to be worn while running around like a maniac in this kind of absolutely stifling humidity. Likewise, the disgusting sheet he'd found likely wasn't made to be wrapped around the staked body of a vampire. Perhaps the only bright side to this was that Izzy now had a new hat for the time being. He hadn't wanted to leave anything behind.
He was happy, though. One could even say euphoric. This, after all, was what he was built for. It was a dirty, meager start, and it had taken him damn near two weeks to find his quarry and until tonight to get close enough to stake him, but nonetheless he felt better than he had in weeks, months even. Whatever bloodlust he might have had was fully sated, and for once it was justified.
Somewhere, footsteps clicked. At least, that's what it sounded like at first. Izzy pressed himself and the body up against the brick, and listened very carefully. The footsteps continued, each one sounding further and further away. In the intervening minute or so, Izzy looked around at the houses up ahead. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was within spitting distance. Adjusting the body under his arm, he continued on, down a narrow alley until he found the servant's entrance he'd come out of the last time he'd been here. An ever-growing, nervous part of him wondered if the man had forgotten as he went down the stairs.
When he knocked sharply on the door, he discovered that he wouldn't know what to say to a servant if they answered the door, or even which one would. The last time he'd looked at a clock it had been about three, so maybe the cook? He couldn't hear anything behind the door, and no one was answering. He tucked the sheet in so that the vampire's feet weren't visible and fretted.
Simon didn't want to get up in the middle of the night. He was hungover and tired and he really just wanted to sleep until about noon the next day, however whoever was hammering at his door clearly had other ideas. First Simon rolled one way. Then he rolled the other, then finally he let out a sigh and hauled himself up into a seated position, letting out a deeply exhausted sigh. Fine. People wanted to come see him at stupid o'clock in the morning? Well just see if he cared.
Simon slowly trundled downstairs towards the sound of the noise, and after Izzy had been waiting for a few minutes, the door creaked open. The Magician peered out, his eyes bleary with sleep, and his expression far from impressed. Was that the fanciful little whore he'd had the other night standing on his threshold? What in the world did he want. Simon had just opened his mouth to tell Izzy that he wasn't interested in going another round, when his eyes finally focused on the decidedly corpse shaped mass in the boy's arms.
He paled.
A body. The boy had brought him a dead body. Simon didn't want a dead body! He wanted to be left alone and possibly occasionally break into graves and chase imaginary monsters around London! He didn't want to be hanged for conspiracy to commit murder! Or would this be aiding and abetting? Like it mattered, the boy had brought a corpse to his house!
After a moment of silence he stepped back quickly and hissed at Izzy, "Get it inside before somebody sees you!"
But it wasn't a servant who answered the door, in fact, it was just the man Izzy had wanted to see. Admittedly, it was a little odd, and from what he could see there weren't exactly any lights on to say that anyone lived or worked down here. It was quite lucky, he supposed, though it looked like he'd caught the man at a bad time and that he probably wasn't wanted. Well, he'd just get the money and go. It wasn't like he had any sort of desire to stick around and chit-chat.
He was still smiling a bit, though decidedly not nearly as widely as he had been in the first place. Reality was starting to sink back in, and yes, it was a grand idea to get into the house before someone saw him. So, Izzy quickly complied, getting a step or two into the house before realizing something vitally important, mainly because the vampire was about halfway out of his arms at this point, as if pulled by some invisible magnet of annoyance.
Quickly stepping back out, Izzy caught the body about as well as he could and threw it over his shoulder. This was part of the reason he'd wanted to bring it here in two separate parts, but in a moment of sense he'd decided that just staking it would go over a little bit better. Unfortunately, that meant that he wasn't just dealing with a corpse, which made things...a little bit different.
"Invite him in," he whispered, pointing to the body.
Simon stared at the body in genuine disbelief. After a long moment he finally looked down at the body. There was no way he could say this without a hint of insincerity, but still, he gave a theatrical, sweeping gesture, before offering: "Please, come in, oh dead body in the company of the demented whore."
That said he straightened up, staring at Izzy with a strange, stern expression, "You realize, I hope, that when I asked you for evidence of your claim, I was expecting you to draw my attention towards their victims? Or... for... fossils, or broken off teeth, or long dead specimens? I did not mean that I wanted you to go out and kill someone!" Still, he had to admit... he was kind of impressed. Simon wouldn't have had the kid pegged for a murderer, despite his claims about being a Dhampir, and now that the body was here anyway...
No, no, no, no. This was a terrible idea. He should-- he should fetch a constable at once!
Still, the thing had seemed unable to enter his house without permission. That... was kind of unusual. Glancing up at Izzy, he gave the boy a shrewd look, and finally asked, "What's your name?"
At that, Izzy practically ran into the house. He was met with a little bit of resistance from the body, but he barely noticed this and turned around to face the man. This wasn't going as well as he'd planned, or at least, Simon's reaction wasn't nearly as good as it had been when he'd played out this scenario in his head. "Thank you," he replied, holding back a few insults.
"Fossils?" he cocked his head to the side, a small sneer playing across his lips, "In the middle of London? I suppose I could have knocked his teeth out, but that seems a waste. As for long-dead specimens, I don't know as you'd want a can of ashes or a skull or what have you. Besides," his smile grew a little more honest, if a bit harried, "He's not dead. Pretty close to it, about as close as anyone can get in this world, I'd imagine." He pulled off the sheet to reveal a rather nicely-dressed man with three stab wounds around his chest, with a knife buried in to the hilt approximately where the heart would have been. It was looking a little loose, like it might fall out. He looked, for all the world, like a corpse.
Somehow, Izzy got the feeling like this wouldn't be much of a comfort, so he stood up straighter, tried to look more professional, and said, "He isn't, really, and," he made a mock salute and continued unthinkingly, "Israel Alderdice, at your service sir."
"At ease." Simon says almost automatically, as though being saluted and offered peoples service is no less than he deserves and expects from a casual encounter. Then the corner of his mouth quirks up ever so slightly, like there might be some possibility that he's just being facetious about all this. Still, he gives no further indication of this, instead letting out a slight sound of indignation, "Yes, actually, a skull would have been ideal. I would have been able to inspect any difference in the teeth without having to worry about having incited a mad young man named Israel to go out and murder somebody."
There was a beat then, as he seemed to consider Izzy's name, "Hm. Israel. I presume you're Jewish then?" He asked, with probably the closest thing to politeness that he'd shown throughout their entire conversation, before glancing down at the body again, "Well, if it isn't dead, then I recommend you remedy the situation. I'm not paying you for someone who's going to either try and drink my blood, or turn me over to the police the moment my guard is dropped."
Turning, Simon gave both Izzy, and the vampire a good view of his back. He didn't want the body running back to tell half of London town that he was supporting murder most foul, but he didn't want to watch the solution to this possibility either.
"I told you, I didn't -" he stopped suddenly, and pressed his lips into a thin line. There wasn't any point in telling Simon any of this, he realized. It wasn't like the man was going to listen to it. Izzy pulled back the vampire's lips, as one might have done to a dog. Indeed, there were two quite out of place, almost animal fangs along with the rest of the crooked, yellow teeth. He held the face up, as if to prove a point, though he knew Simon would not have been looking and probably wouldn't have cared. "I don't think they bury vampires, anyway," he muttered.
At the comment at his name, Izzy was quick to say, "No, sir. It's usually Izzy," as if that made any difference. Looking back on it, fully killing the vampire, while cumbersome and a whole lot bloodier, probably would have gone over better. Of course, this wasn't happening at all like it was supposed to. "I'd say, with this kind of damage, it'd be a day or two before he'd be in much shape to do anything."
Wrenching the knife out of the vampire's chest and wiping it off on the sheet, he asked, "Have you got a cleaver or anything like it? Don't mean to ask too much, but it makes things...easier."
"Izzy." Simon repeated the name thoughtfully, "Hm. Strange name then." He didn't have any further comment on this, but he did glance over his shoulder at the boy with a look of vague distaste at the request. After a moment of thought, he gave a nod and started through towards his kitchen, "Bring it through here. I have a boning knife. Try not to make too much of a mess."
Izzy looked almost mournfully at the knife in his hand. He was going to ruin it one of these days, it was just a hunting knife, after all. One of the few possessions he'd brought from home, even if he had had to sneak it past his mother. Still, he simply said in a voice that was desperately trying to avoid sarcasm, "Oh, yes, that will be incredibly useful." as he went into the kitchen, carrying the body with him.
A little while later, he came back out, carrying the head and the body separately. He'd gone to great pains to not to get any blood on himself or on anything else, which was easier said than done, but he thanked God that his clothes were black (as little good as that would do), and hoped that Simon wasn't going to complain that he'd somehow killed the vampire wrong. There were very few ways of doing this, but he wouldn't have been especially surprised if the man came up with some non-reason or complete fallacy to avoid paying him. He held up the head by its thin hair and deadpanned, "Do you want it burned, just to be sure?"
"No, that will do nicely." Simon replied politely. It seemed that Izzy had finally done something that he had no criticism for! Simon gestured towards the large dining table in the middle of the room, "Put it on there. I'll deal with it after you're gone." He kept both eyes fixed on the head dangling from the young mans grip. Now that he was over the considerable shock of having Israel turn up holding a dead body, he had to admit the familiar feeling of fascination was beginning to set in. The prospect of taking the thing apart, working out what it is, maybe even finding a way to identify others from a distance, the prospect of finding... more. Others. Knowing how they lived, how they survived... maybe one day even where they came from. Somewhere in the middle of this line of thought he's started grinning, and by the time he comes out of his own head a little, he has a rather disarmingly pleased expression on his face.
"So, how much do I owe you?" He asks Izzy, brightly.
He was waiting for it, and then, surprisingly, it didn't come. Izzy blinked, slowly, but then shrugged it off. There was no real reason to question any kind of good fortune. He put the body and the head on the table, and then turned back around and wondered exactly what he was seeing. Though he'd certainly seen Simon smile before, he'd never actually seemed...happy. Or whatever this was. Izzy stood there for a while, a little bit puzzled and a little bit completely disturbed.
However, he wasn't about to let a good moment pass by with being able to take advantage of it. Somehow, Simon didn't seem like he would haggle much. So, Izzy added which of his late father's debts needed paying this week, plus what he needed to live on for the next few days, plus a little extra, and named a figure.
Simon wasn't in the mood to haggle (Although the boy's price was downright extortionate). So he headed into the next room, returning a few minutes later with all appearance of happiness gone, and his more usual expression of distant amusement returned.
"Here's what I have about, you must excuse me if I wasn't planning on buying any corpses today, so it's a little less than you asked for."
He extended his hand, offering Israel the money with a look which by now, clearly said: "don't push it."
"Oh, it's alright," said Izzy, but with an undertone that it definitely wasn't alright, and, if you looked hard enough, that there if this vampire, who looked relatively healthy despite being decapitated, hadn't been able to fight him off, then you had a very good chance of becoming a smear on the wall if this happened in the future. Even if he wouldn't have actually done it, since killing one's customers was very bad form as far as he knew. But he had basically just dropped in, so there was some justification for why Simon wouldn't have that sort of money.
After counting the money, Izzy looked Simon up and down, deciding whether or not he could get the rest of the money out of him by other methods before deciding that his advances would probably not have been very well received, and besides he didn't especially want to right now (not that he ever did). Still, he leaned against the table in an absently attractive way. He pressed his finger to his lips before seemingly remembering something.
"And what's your name, sir? Forgive me, I never quite caught it."
Simon was looking at the body on his table when Izzy started talking again, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Israel leaning against the table and pulling that face, and... well, he couldn't resist, "Oh my name? It's 'Sorry, but once was enough, you're not really my type, and I don't have any more money so put on a stiff upper lip and be glad I didn't call the police about this'." He tried to be bearable. He really, honestly had been sort of trying to be almost pleasant, but he was out of money and he got bored easily. Once really was enough. Besides, he was actually slightly offended that Izzy thought he was that easy.
Simon gave the boy arguably the most insincere smile of his life, "My parents were eccentric. Now come on, your welcome is worn out, shoo!"
Oh, this was fun. The smile was a little more sincere now.
Ah, there it was. Izzy stood up straight and smiled brilliantly. He had his money, and frankly, though this really was a disappointment, under any other circumstances he wouldn't have wanted to see Simon ever again. In fact, that was true in this situation, too. There were plenty of people in London, and some of them had to believe in vampires. Maybe.
"Right-o, then. You know where I to find me, and I for one wouldn't mind seeing you again soon. Goodnight, darling." He gave a little wave and started out the door, still smiling. It would have seemed that he hadn't heard a word of what Simon had said.