A young man standing at 6'2 (1.89 m) rolled out of a large bed and walked towards a window right in front of it. He had a handsome face with short blonde hair; he looked out on the large plot of land on which his large house rested.
He stood there for a long time before a knock arrived on his door. Already aware of who it was, he said, "Come in Clarence."
A older man with a head full of gray hair in a suit strolled in, holding a tray of tea on it.
"Good morning, Master Charles."
"I told you not to call me that."
"Lord Charles."
Clarence got a glare for that.
"Mr. Charles."
Charles turned his head back toward the window, and Clarence took that as acceptance.
He walked towards the side table and placed down the tea and poured it into the cup. Placed it on a saucer and took it to Charles' side.
Charles took the tea and sipped it.
"Chief Enforcer Donald is downstairs, wishing to speak to you."
Charles rolled his eyes.
"What does he want?"
Clarence sighed, walking back to gather the tray holding the tea.
"He refused to tell me."
Opening the door, he stated, "It seemed to be something of great import though."
Charles continued to sip his tea even as he heard the door close.
After a few more minutes, he placed the drink down and started to prepare.
Doing all of the necessary hygienic tasks, he then opened a closet filled with suits. He perused through them until he found one that was solid black with almost imperceptible blue threads throughout it. A pair of sharp black dress shoes that looked like they had never been worn before were chosen. A black and blue tie, a black belt, and a black watch with blue accents were also chosen.
He came out of his closet and made his way through his house until he reached the guest area, where a dark skinned man with a very respectable mustache in a blue uniform sat on a couch.
"Took you long enough."
"It takes time to look this good." Charles responds.
Charles stops and looks at the mug of still warm tea on the table, completely untouched.
"Waste of good tea."
He grabbed the saucer and pulled it towards him as he sat down directly opposite the man.
"So what's the business?"
Enforcer Donald looked at the man.
"For someone dressed so businesslike, you sure do tend to act unprofessional."
Charles looked to the side as if recalling an event: "I didn't come to this town to be professional; I came to get things done. Now, what's the business?"
"Harry's dead."
Turning his head back toward Enforcer Donald, he asked, "How?"
"Haven't been to the scene myself yet; it took place pretty late. But according to my men, Sergei did it with a pickaxe, right after closing."
"Why would Sergei do that?"
"Hel if I know. I'm heading there now; just thought you should know." Donald said.
"I'm coming along."
"Be my guest."
...
Charles and Donald advanced toward the mine alongside multiple other enforcers.
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"Has anyone been here this morning?" Enforcer Donald asked.
"No, Enforcer Donald," another officer said.
"So why are the lights on?"
Everyone looked at each other before proceeding with caution.
They made their way to Harry's office.
Once they got close to the door, the trailing officers stood outside of it, while Charles and Donald opened the door and ducked the yellow lines to enter.
~~~
Nave heard the door open, and so did his eyes.
Two men entered and looked around, stopping in their tracks once they spotted a boy sitting at a dead man's desk.
No one said anything for a few seconds before Enforcer Donald stepped forward. "Who are you, boy?"
Nave said nothing still, resting with his feet up on the desk and his hands resting on his stomach.
Enforcer Donald started to walk toward the boy, but Charles said, "Stop."
He stopped in his tracks.
"Leave."
"Are you sure?" Donald asked.
Charles glared at him.
"Yes Mayor."
Once the door closed, Charles said, "Who are you?"
"Larry."
"Okay Larry. Well, why are you here?" Charles said while grabbing the stray guest chair and putting it across from the desk.
Larry looked around. "The seat's vacant."
Charles took a seat and said, "And who's fault is that?"
"Don't your men in blue know that, Mr. Mayor?"
Charles smiled, "Yeah, I guess they just might. Anyway, why did you cause this mess?"
"I didn't; the big doofus did. I just took a seat." Larry responded
"Alright, lets go with that then." His face became serious. "Why should I let you stay in that chair?"
Larry reached forward and grabbed a stray pen, twirling it in his fingers. "Because you don't care who sits here."
Charles sat back and crossed his arms while his smile came back. "And why would you think that?"
"Well, I've been wondering, why is this place so inefficient? Anyone with Harry's supposed business acumen should run this mine 1,000,000 times better than this. Harry should have had a contract ready for me to sign as soon as I walked in, a severe lack of thorough evaluation of employee performance, and anyone with two eyes can see that Sergei as the mine manager is an idiotic decision. And those are only three of the reasons, so what the Hel is going on? Why would someone who is clearly capable of it, not do better? The only conclusion I could come to is that something is stopping him, or someone." Larry gave Charles a very obvious look.
Charles raised his hands in a mocking manner, "You caught me."
"But why, why do you do it?" Larry asked as he put his legs down and leaned forward onto the desk.
Charles stared him in the face and said nothing.
Larry felt angry at the lack of control he once again felt and, realizing he wasn't going to get a response to his question, also said nothing.
"Well, you're wrong," Charles started. "I do care about who sits in that chair, at least somewhat. So you're gonna need another reason to let me let you stay there."
Larry looked at the man—at least the parts that he could see—his jacket, watch, well-done hair, healthy teeth—and realized something.
"You're not from here."
Charles' eyebrow raised somewhat as he wondered how he came to that conclusion.
"What does that have to do with it?"
"Since you're here and acting as the mayor, you obviously know some information about the town. You must know that there is a large underworld influence here. Due to that, we do things a certain way here." He looked him dead in the eyes. "If you want something, you take it."
The smile fell off Charles' face. "Is that a threat?"
Larry realized he made a mistake and leaned back, trying to play it off. "Of course not; I couldn't hurt you even if I wanted to. Just doing my citizenly duty of informing you, Mr. Mayor."
Charles took a second to think and said, "This place is horrible; you just kill someone and take their place. I don't think I like that."
Larry began to become nervous; everything relied on this man letting him stay here. He thought that the person above Harry would go with the town's conventional norms since they were a powerful resident of it. That was pretty much how every other person got their position, even Chief Enforcer Donald—not that anyone would say that out loud. He assumed that that was the way they got their positions. But he was obviously wrong.
Charles looked around, "I guess you being in his spot isn't that bad; I can tell from what you've done and our conversation that you seem to have at least some intelligence, not that this job needs much. And you being in this Hel hole is probably better than me getting an actual businessman in here; they tend to have a lot of ambition."
He looked back at Larry and gave him a dark, pointed look. "You don't have too much ambition, do you?"
Larry felt threatened; realizing this man could ruin everything, he started to panic. He realized he needed to calm down and that he had to give something to get something, and information was the most important thing to men like him. The man held a position above him, and he had to show that he knew that.
"No, all I wanted was to control this mine; my mom worked herself to death here, Mr. Mayor."
Charles smiled and said, "Good, maybe you won't do too bad here. You might even shake up the place a little; could be fun." He laughed, "A kid running a mine, this will be entertaining."
Charles realized he had spent enough time here and looked at his watch. "About time for me to get out of here." Standing and turning around.
"Wait!"
Charles turned his head and glared at Larry.
"I mean, please wait, Mr. Mayor. Do you have any information for me?"
"Oh yeah, I guess. That little device you got is a signal transmitter. Don't call me unless it's an emergency. And don't call Bruno, no matter what.
"Who is Bruno?" Larry Asked.
"We don't talk about Bruno."
...
"What?"
Getting no response, he moved on.
"What about running the mine?"
Charles put his hand to his chin and thought about it.
"Someone will be here soon to teach you. The mine will be closed for a few days, if they're not here by that point, good luck!"
Charles left the room, and Nave exhaled a deep breath.
"Damn it!" Nave said as he slammed his fist onto the desk.
He had messed up.
'I'm so stupid.'
His first mistake was his plan; fortunately, in the end everything had worked out. But it was too reliant on another person.
'Stupid!' He smacked himself in the forehead.
He had also gotten emotional. The feeling of having no control over his life had risen up again, and he had said something stupid.
"I hope that doesn't come back to bite me."