The Franklin Trust had been stripped. Only the deaf were saved the constant prattling of gossip hounds, endlessly bloviating about who might be the cause. Unfortunately, Bodyer’s name came up in these conversations quite often. More unfortunately still, this made it to the ears of the constables. Despite Bodyer’s absolute lack of involvement, he had found it necessary to avoid the limelight for the time being. Any sort of attention tends to be problematic in his line of work.

A week passed. Bodyer camped out in one of many safe-houses that nobody knew the location of, waiting until the heat dissipated. The countess had slept with a lord’s son, cuckolding Count Visser. Instantaneously, everybody forgot about the bank heist and Bodyer walked outside unaccosted.

He was out of touch. When it comes to the city, the myriad tangled lies, a lot can happen in a week. He walked down Gangrel street, flipping the signs on the outside of four shops. This done, he walked the remaining four blocks to the meeting place, slid open the wood panel door himself and entered to wait.

The first to arrive was Eisen, he nodded to the boss and sat down at the table. He took a small book from an interior jacket pocket and began to read. The next was Liza, who joined them silently. The three sat in silence for an hour before Bodyer broke the silence.

“Where’s Lydia? Glaster?”

Liza glanced to Eisen.

“No clue I’m afraid. I haven’t seen them since our last meeting.”

“You work pretty closely with Glaster.”

“I had in the past. He’s assigned me my own lieutenants. I work with them any further.” Eisen placed his bookmark back in the book, returning it to his jacket pocket. “Would you like that I send my runners to investigate?”

“Send them.”

Eisen rose and crossed to the door, sliding it open to reveal Glaster and Lydia.

Glaster raised his fists in defense, then barked in his guffawing laugh. “Surprised me, pal.” He entered, clapping Eisen on the shoulder. Lydia slunk in after him, leaving Eisen to replace the wooden door shaking his head.

“It’s been a week,” Bodyer started, “Where are we?”

“My interests have all but halted considering the advanced constabulary attention. We will be restoring activities tomorrow.” Said Eisen, returning to his seat.

“Our profits have exceeded expectations for this week, mostly the Hudson Namkoff Bank.” Said Liza.

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“When did we get a bank?” Asked Bodyer.

“Six months, eight days ago. I told you about the opportunity and you said to jump at it.”

It sounded vaguely familiar to Bodyer, but he didn’t share Liza’s incredible talent for memory. He nodded at Glaster to move along.

Glaster shrugged, “Nothing to protect boss. Kept the boys out there to avoid suspicion when they return.”

“No collections?”

“Nobody to collect from. Good week all in all.”

Silence followed, with Lydia understanding it was her torch to pick up. “Same as Eisen. It’s been slow. Girls are getting restless with no cash flow, but it’s not a situation.”

Bodyer nodded, everything in order. “What do we know about the Franklin Trust?” He did not miss the glance that passed between Glaster and Lydia.

“Team of safecrackers blew the back open and walked away with everything.” Said Liza, “Nobody seems to know who they’re with, it’s possible they’re an independent group.”

“Civilians?” asked Eisen.

“Or a rogue element. Nobody we know.” Liza responded.

Bodyer rubbed at the scar on his neck. It itched at him when something felt off. He had not survived this long by ignoring his honed instincts.

“Glaster, Lydia, anything?”

Glaster rubbed his forehead. His tell. Glaster was a terrible liar. “I haven’t heard nothing more than Liza.”

“The only other thing I had heard was it was somebody with a vendetta against the duke himself.” Said Lydia.

Lying was more Lydia’s domain, yet Bodyer still felt something was off. The duke, Arin of Holdes, was the most powerful public figure in all of Era’s domain. He owned the constables, the banks, and the casinos. He had more money than any man could ever know what to do with. There was no person dumb enough to hold a vendetta against him. His crew was lying to him about something. He just couldn’t put his finger on what.

“Anybody asking questions?”

“No.” Liza shook her head.

“Good. We resume business as usual in two days. We’re going to need to run hard to make up lost cash. That goes for all of you.”

Four nods was the only response.

“Good, everybody head out. Liza.” Bodyer looked to his second in command, who nodded. The others filed out of the room leaving only her and Bodyer.

“What’s going on?” Bodyer took Eisen’s chair.

“It’s a real mess. Too many players. The constables have no leads. They won’t find anything.”

“You seem confident.”

“When am I not?”

Bodyer scratched at the table with his dagger. His weapon of choice, small and unassuming yet just as deadly. “Why is Glaster lying to me?”

“You’re asking me this?” Liza narrowed her eyes.

“Glaster hasn’t had an original thought in his life. If he’s got something to lie about, somebody placed that there for him.”

“And you think I placed this thought.”

“If I thought that, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Bodyer dug his dagger into the table.

Liza placidly eyed the dagger stuck in the table, adjusting her hair. Bodyer pulled it out, continuing, “So who placed the idea?”

“I can find out.”

“Good, thank you.” Bodyer slid the dagger back into its sheath on the inside of his coat and disappeared from the room.

Liza knew more than she was letting on, but how deep that went Bodyer couldn’t be sure. She was the one member of his crew he didn’t want on his bad side, she was more dangerous than the other three combined. In a situation like this, information was the only advantage and Liza had a leg up on him. He needed to even the playing field. Rounding the corner, Bodyer let himself disappear into the darkness of the alleyway, his home away from home, and descended into thought.