16

Morning came. Dreary and drizzling, the night's rain had uncovered the myriad of filth and debris of city life, swamping the streets in Verdalia's filthy secrets. Nairo gingerly hopped the floating islands of filth as she made her way towards the wet sulking figure of Ridley who stood outside the chief coroner’s office.

When she had woken that morning, her entire body ached from her bruised toes to her sore scalp. One side of her face had swollen overnight and an ugly continent shaped bruise had appeared just below her rib stretching to just above her knee. The bruise was a livid purple tinged with red and made her grit her teeth when she pulled on her trousers. Ridley looked even worse. One of his eyes was black and the whites had turned bloodshot red, making him look like a demonic owl. His body was even more hunched than usual, pain drawing his face and making him look corpse-like. He flicked his smoke and withdrew like a turtle into his coat collars and hat.

“You look as bad as I feel,” Ridley growled at her, his voice thick and husky.

“Then you must feel terrible,” Nairo said.

“Like ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag.”

“Lovely.”

“What’s that?” Ridley said, nodding his head at the thick wad of files under Nairo’s arm.

“Everything I could pull about De Woolf.”

“Anything good?”

“Let’s get out of the rain and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Ridley tugged at collar and led her into the greasy spoon cafe. Instead of his usual confident stride, Ridley limped gingerly. Nairo noticed how tenderly he hugged his left arm to his body and wondered to herself just how battered he was under that long coat.

The cafe, complete with literal greasy spoons and sticky chairs, was empty barring one lonely man hugging a mug of thick black coffee. Ridley seemed to be of the opinion that the less time and money was spent on cleanliness and décor, the better the food must be. Gingerly, he eased himself into one of the rickety chairs and pulled his coat tight around himself. An old woman in a filthy apron ambled up to them, looking simultaneously like she was falling asleep and had just woken up.

“Morning darlin’, what can I get you?” she grumbled.

“Anything on the menu today?” Ridley asked.

“‘Fraid not. We’ve got some pastries from yesterday and plenty of coffee.”

“Coffee,” Ridley growled. “Biggest cup you’ve got and as black as you can manage.”

“Same, but can I have a splash of milk,” Nairo said. “With just a spoon of sugar.”

The waitress returned with their coffees a moment later and they both sat and sipped in silence. By all definitions, it was bad coffee. Acidic and stale, but it was piping hot and drove the chill from their bones.

“I can’t figure out which bits of me hurt worse,” Ridley groaned as he kneaded his jaw.

“I tried to avoid figuring that out,” Nairo replied. “I’m about six different shades of purple at the moment.”

They sipped in silence again.

“So what did you dig up?” Ridley asked her.

Nairo pushed the files towards Ridley and he pulled a face.

“Why don’t you give me the summary?”

“Looks like De Woolf is a debtor,” she said. “In the last three years he’s been up in front of a debtor’s board twice.”

“Knew it.”

“More interestingly, about four years ago he was picked up for unlicensed gambling in Salwerk. There was a police raid and he was found betting on arachnid fighting. He wasn’t charged but his name was in the file.”

“Unlicensed gambling?” Ridley muttered and then nodded. “That makes sense. Goblins run a bunch of underground gambling dens around the city. Could be that’s how Benny got his claws into our boy.”

“It gets worse. I tried to find some financial information about De Woolf, but nothing exists.”

“Nothing?”

“No. No tax returns, no account numbers. Nothing. It was difficult to even pin down an address for him. It seems like he has moved at least three times in the last two years. We don’t even know where his current abode is. The closest I’ve been able to find is that his post is directed to a post office out in Cumberley.”

“Cumberley? Ain’t nothing out there but slophouses and brothels.”

“Exactly. If Benny was bleeding him then it looks like the well was running well and truly dry.”

“It all fits. He’s at the end of his rope and desperate. Then a big old hunk of rock just wanders into the bank unexpectedly. It was his chance to pay off his debt…”

“I don’t buy it,” Nairo interjected. “If De Woolf was going to steal to pay off his debts then why not just, I don’t know, steal the piles and piles of gold and precious jewels in the bank? Why steal something you know is going to draw so much attention?”

“Maybe it was Benny’s idea?”

“But how did Benny know it was there?”

“Maybe De Woolf told him. Maybe he was under instructions to keep Benny updated about anything valuable that comes into the bank. Plus, you don’t know that De Woolf hasn’t been stealing and this is just the first time he’s been caught.”

“That’s true.”

“Only one way to know is to go and confront De Woolf,” Ridley said.

“I’m still waiting on his address,” Nairo replied. “Conway is digging around back at HQ trying to track him down. But we could go to the bank.

“Ten coins says he’s done a runner,” Ridley said, draining the last dregs of his coffee.

“I wouldn’t blame him if he has,” Nairo said as she dropped a couple of coins on the table for their coffee.

She could only imagine what it would be like to be De Woolf right now. Even if somehow he was innocent, that he hadn’t stolen the Diamond, he would still know how easily he could be traced back to Benny. But he didn’t have just the police to worry about, he also had the Kith’s retribution hanging over his head . They would know about his debt to Benny and in the underworld, debts didn’t simply die with their owners. Either way, De Woolf was a wanted creature, she just had to hope they found him first.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

*

The bank was unusually quiet.

Word had gone round that something had been stolen, that plus the presence of so many police officers, had deadened the passing trade. Bored HobGoblins sat behind their tills, making idle chit chat and flicking through ledgers to appear busy. Pixies trailed about, cleaning messes that had yet to be made and polishing floor tiles that were already so bright they blinded.

Ridley and Nairo had been directed by a grumpy Gnome to a smiling young secretary. She had golden blonde hair and a smile so pleasant even Ridley found himself returning it as they approached.

“Good morning, I’m Isabelle, how can I help you?” She beamed at them from behind her desk.

“Good morning, my name is Sergeant Nairo. We’re looking for Mr De Woolf.” Nairo watched her smile falter at the mention of the bank manager.

“Umm Mr De Woolf hasn’t come in today,” she said.

Nairo could feel Ridley’s eyes roll over to hers and she could just imagine the ‘I told you so’ face he had on right now.

“Has he called in sick?”

“Umm no. He just hasn’t come in yet. But I’m sure he will be in anytime now,” she added hastily.

“Do you have a home address we could reach him at? It’s quite urgent, regarding the theft here yesterday.”

“Of course, one moment.”

Isabelle flicked through a datebook on her desk and Nairo noticed her hand shaking.

“It’s not like him to not come in,” Isabelle said as she hastily flicked through her diary. “Well sometimes it is. But not usually. He’s a very diligent creature. Mr De Woolf takes his work very seriously. And of course, what with the robbery, he was completely torn up. He was very fretful. I just hope nothing’s… happened to him,” she blabbered as she pawed through the pages.

“Would something have happened to him?” Ridley asked, his voice dropping low. He leaned across the desk with an almost soft look on his usually acerbic face.

“No it’s not… it’s just that…”

“Isabelle, is there something you want to tell us?” Nairo asked.

“Tell you? Yes of course I want to tell you Mr De Woolf’s address!” She tittered nervously. “Ah here it is! Let me just write it down for you. Where’s my pen? I put it down somewhere here.”

“We’re not the first people to come here looking for his address are we?” Ridley said.

Isabelle visibly jumped in her seat and her wide blue eyes shot up to Ridley’s.

“How did you know that?”

“Your date book,” he said pointing to her book. “Looks like you’ve recently scribbled that address down on it, in a rush. And that corner’s ripped. I’m guessing you just had enough time to copy it down before someone reached across this desk and tore the corner off themselves.”

Isabelle looked like she was about to burst into tears.

“I didn’t want to tell them. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Who?”

Isabelle looked around, her big eyes quivering.

“The Goblins” she whispered. “They came in late last night, just before we were closing asking about Mr De Woolf.”

“Let me guess, sharp suits and nasty tempers?” Ridley asked.

Isabelle nodded.

“Kith,” Ridley said to Nairo.

“What did they want?”

“They just wanted to know where Mr De Woolf was, but he had already left. They demanded his address.”

“Did they threaten you?”

“Not so much but they… weren’t going to take no for an answer. I didn’t know what to do.” A fat tear rolled down her cheek.

“It’s okay,” Nairo said, coming around the desk and handing her a tissue from a box on the counter. “It’s not your fault. It’s better you told them than get hurt yourself.”

“Have you ever seen these Goblins before?” Ridley asked.

Isabelle shook her head and dabbed at her eyes.

“Poor Mr De Woolf,” she cried. “He’s a good man, he really is. He was always kind and he never scolded anyone, even when we made mistakes, and he always remembered my birthday and even let me have the afternoon off paid. He’s harmless! He really is! He was always doing little tricks with cards, he even taught me to play a few games. He’s frightfully clever, he could calculate all the odds in a game of Peeling Onion just based on what cards had been burned. He was always right! It was like magic! He wouldn’t hurt a soul. It’s just… well he had some issues.”

“What kind of issues?” Ridley asked.

“He umm… he liked to gamble. He was always placing bets on things. He loves odds and percentages, well I suppose he would, being a bank manager! But I began to notice that he was losing more than he was winning. A lot of days he would come in to work in the same clothes and then he started sleeping in the office. That’s when the collectors started to come round. He was always being hounded by someone and as time went by they became scarier and scarier.” She choked back another sob. “It’s not his fault! It’s an addiction you know!”

“We know,” Nairo said soothingly.

“Did you ever notice Goblins coming around, like those ones yesterday?” Ridley said.

“Sometimes. But Mr De Woolf was good at hiding it. But I would see him sometimes, meeting a nasty looking Goblin in the Royle cafe across the road. I saw them quite a few times on my way home from work. You don’t think they’ve hurt him do you?”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Nairo said. “And just so that we know you’re okay, I’m going to make sure there’s an officer here at all times, and they’ll ensure no one else harrasses you.”

Isabelle nodded gratefully.

“This nasty looking Goblin, was he sort of a greyish colour with half an ear?” Ridley said.

Again Isabelle nodded.

“Thank you so much for your assistance, Isabelle.” Nairo said as she handed her another tissue.

“Please find him. He’s in trouble and I hate to think what those vile Goblins would do to him.”

“Don’t worry,” Nairo said with a smile. “We’re on the case.”

Ridley nodded at Isabelle and began limping away.

“You owe me ten coins,” he muttered to Nairo when they were out of earshot.

“I never took that bet,” Nairo hissed back.

“Good. Gambling’s bad.”

“You can’t help yourself can you?”

“Dunno. Never tried.”

Nairo rolled her eyes at him.

“Come on, let’s get to De Woolf’s on the double.”

“Hopefully he’s still in one piece,” Ridley said.

“Sargeant Nairo!” a podgy officer with a round cherubic face and greasy skin, huffed his way up the bank steps towards them and threw a quick salute. “Marm, comm scroll just came in for you.”

“Thank you,” Nairo said, accepting the scroll from him. “Corporal, I want an officer posted inside the bank from now on. If you see any Goblins you don't like the look of coming to the bank and harassing staff, then I want them immediately detained and taken back to HQ. Is that understood?”

“Yes marm.” The officer saluted again and in his haste he knocked his hat off his head. “Oops. Oh no!” He waddled after his tumbling hat as he chased it down the stairs.

“Verdalia’s finest,” Ridley snorted as he watched the officer.

Nairo sighed and shook her head. Gently, they made their way down the steps, her hips protesting the whole way down as she unfurled the scroll.

“It’s my man in the coroner’s office! He says we can come and view the body!”

“Perfect. When?” Ridley said.

“He says it has to be now. The head coroner’s out until lunch and he says now is our best chance to see the body before he gets back.”

“What about De Woolf?” Ridley said.

“We could split up.”

“Great. You go to De Woolf’s and I’ll check the body out.”

“You’re only saying that because you think he’s already dead!”

“And as an officer of law who knows a civilian is in peril, you have a duty to go and do one of them what d’you call ‘em?”

“Welfare checks?”

“That’s the one. Go check his welfare.”

“You’ve got a point,” Nairo said begrudgingly; her gut told her the bank manager wasn’t going to be there but Ridley was right, they couldn’t leave De Woolf on the streets like a sitting duck. Nairo looked around and then sighed before motioning the now red faced officer over to her.

“Marm?” He saluted again.

“I need two officers sent to this address,” she handed over the scrap of paper to him. “I need you to find me one Zimeon De Woolf.”

“The bank manager?” the officer asked.

“Correct. If he’s there I want him brought in immediately for questioning. If he’s not, canvas the neighbours and see if anyone has seen him in the last 24 hours.”

“Yes marm!” The officer squeaked excitedly before racing off, one hand on his belt the other on his cap.

“You know if the Kith are there they’ll roast that little piggy on an open flame.”

“Hush Ridley.”

Ridley smirked at her and then tucked his hands into his pockets.

“Come on Sarge, we’ve got a date with a dead Goblin.”

“How romantic,” Nairo muttered as Ridley whistled for a cab.