After a frosty cab ride back to the precinct, they dropped Edgewater and Washbottom off, swore them to secrecy once again, and continued on back to Ridley’s office. They didn’t speak for much of the journey. Nairo was trying to force the sounds of Bill’s fists slamming off that man’s face out of her mind. She could still see the spatters of blood. It gnawed at her till her guts audibly churned.

“Stop it,” Ridley grunted from the far corner of the cab.

“What?”

“Don’t put it on yourself.”

“I should have…”

“You shouldn’t have,” Ridley said bluntly. “I know you hold the high ideals of law close to your heart, but staying alive is more important.”

“He wouldn’t have…”

“You certain about that?”

Nairo sank back into her seat and stared out of the window.

“It’s not right,” she murmured after a moment.

“It’s not. But animals like The Landlord are just a part of the fabric of this city and no one police officer is gonna put an end to that.”

It didn’t stop the truth burning at her throat like bile.

“Even worse is it was a dead end,” Nairo said, changing the subject.

“Well at least we know De Woolf is still in the city and we were right about him resurfacing to feed his addiction. Problem is now, no one’s gonna take his action and any gambling dens that will are so far under the radar that we’d never be able to pin ‘em down.”

“So the trail’s gone cold?”

“Stone dead for now.”

“Then we’re out of moves,” Nairo said, her chest deflating. “We have to put out an all precincts manhunt for De Woolf and loop the Cap’n in.”

Ridley sucked his teeth and stayed silent.

The rain had started again as their cab pulled up in Little Cang. They hopped out and jogged for Ridley’s office. Through the downpour Nairo saw a figure sat on Ridley’s steps, a bottle hanging loosely from his hands as he hunched away from the rain.

“Who’s that?” Nairo asked Ridley.

Ridley peered into the darkness.

“Jimmy?”

The figure looked up and she saw the handsome, and seemingly always bruised, face of Jimmy, their contact in Parliament.

“Ridley! Where you been? I’m dying for a piss!” Jimmy stood up unsteadily and held his arms wide with a cavalier grin on his face.

“Been hitting the cobbles,” Ridley muttered as he looked up and down the street before shaking hands with Jimmy. “What are you doing here?

“I was in the neighbourhood, thought I’d drop by,” he straightened up and beamed warmly. “Invite me in Ridley, coz I will piss on your doormat if I have to.”

Ridley shook his head and they hurried up the steps and into Ridley’s office. Jimmy bustled in behind him and somehow bumped into everything on the way in.

“Sorry…” he mumbled good naturedly. He looked over his shoulder and saw Nairo for the first time. “Oh… hello Sergeant… it’s good to see you.” He stood in the hall smiling like a goofy six year old while Nairo felt a blush rise in her cheeks. Hastily, she tried to straighten out her rain matted hair.

“Hello Jimmy, how are you?” she asked him, returning his warm smile.

“Better now,” he said with a crooked grin.

“Weren’t you about to piss yourself?” Ridley grumbled after locking the front door and barging past Jimmy.

“Oh yeah.” Jimmy stumbled down the hall to the toilet.

“Quick!” Ridley hissed at her and nodded his head at the sprawling web of their investigation on the wall. “We should cover that up.”

Nairo, who had been looking down the hallway, snapped back around to Ridley and nodded. Ridley threw up a sheet while Nairo drove tacks into the corners. She stood back and pulled a dissatisfied face.

“Not exactly subtle,” she said.

“You really think he’s gonna notice?”

“Good point,” Nairo said.

“Who’s there?” an old voice crooned down the hallway making Ridley and Nairo jump.

“Do you ever go home!” Ridley shouted back at Mrs Paper.

“That’s nice!” she shouted back.

“Put the kettle on!”

“A please wouldn’t go amiss!”

Ridley huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Please!” he grunted through gritted teeth.

The toilet flushed and was followed by Jimmy’s disembodied whistling.

“Got anything to drink, Ridley? I’m parched,” he asked as he sauntered back into the room.

“Yeah you look it,” Ridley responded even as he poured him the last drops of the Elvish vodka.

Jimmy took the drink and threw it back. He wheezed for a second and smacked his lips.

“Phwooor, that’s nice that.” He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and looked around the office before perching himself precariously on a stack of old sheets and papers. “So, what have you been up to, Sarge?”

“Just work and stuff, the usual. You?”

“I like your hair like that,” Jimmy said abruptly.

“Oh, thank you,” Nairo said. “Your… face looks… a lot better too.”

Jimmy grinned at her. The heavy dark ring of his black eye was fading, but Nairo noticed his knuckles were freshly skinned and raw looking.

“Yeah and we’re all the prettiest belle at the ball,” Ridley interjected. “Jimmy, why are you here?”

Suddenly, Jimmy’s eyes lit up and he spun on Ridley.

“I been a busy boy, Rid,” he announced proudly. “I’ve done a bit of digging, real subtly, ‘bout what you asked me.” He then dropped his tone to a conspiratorial whisper. “’Bout the Elves.”

“And?” Ridley asked.

“Well… I mean I didn’t actually find anything out.”

Ridley choked on his drink and looked at him bewildered.

“So why are you here!?”

“’Coz, I know where the answers are.” Jimmy winked and nodded at Ridley as if he had just given him the formula for the winning lottery numbers. Jimmy waved his hands inviting Nairo and Ridley to sit. “So, walking round the Houses asking about Elves is a sure-fire way to find yourself exchanging unpleasantries with Albert Stubbs and a pair of brass knuckles, but your man Jimmy knows how the wheels of democracy spin.”

Nairo found a foot stool to sit on while Ridley started pacing.

“Your Elves came into the city real hush hush. They just turn up in the middle of the night, no papers, nothing, and demand the finest hotel suites and access to the vault in the City Bank. Now I know that if you're requiring an entry permit to the city that has to be logged somewhere, right?”

“Bureaucrats love writing things down,” Ridley agreed.

“Sactly, and I know who was overseeing the emergency Transport & Entry desk that time of night. Some old duffer by the name of Roger McCormack, harmless little bloke, spent so long shuffling papers he rustles when he walks. McCormack’s like every old geeza who’s been in a job forever, they like order and structure and all the procedures. So, I catch Roger down the local and he’s moaning all about how he was up half the night filing papers and amending forms and stamps and all of that. After a few more drinks he starts to really moan. He’s going on and on about how people don’t respect rules and he starts quoting sections of this code and that…”

“This is fascinating Jimmy, but the minutiae of bureaucracy doesn’t really interest me right now,” Ridley said impatiently.

“Ignore him, he never learnt any manners,” Nairo said.

“No, fair play Ridley,” Jimmy said good naturedly. “So anyway, Roger basically lets slip that a gang of Elves swan into the city and don’t want to fill out no paperwork, no forms, and that they don’t want there to be any written evidence of them having ever been here. Apparently, higher ups all got involved, maybe even Pleasently himself, the situation is brushed under the carpet, and the Elves get everything they want. However, every time any vehicle carrying cargo or passengers enters the city, there is a log of who and what is being transported. McCormack, being the stubborn ass that he is, demanded this form be filled out. Apparently, all the names have been redacted, but, the contents, the numbers of travellers, and where they had come from is all still on that form!”

“And you’ve got the form!?” Ridley exclaimed in excitement.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“No.” Jimmy answered. “But I do know where that form is.”

“Can you get a copy?” Nairo asked, leaning forward excitedly.

“No. Technically, I shouldn’t even know it exists, let alone have the credentials to actually clap eyes on it.”

“Then… why are you here?” Ridley couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice now.

“Coz, I might not be able to get it, but we can get it. I know the floor and office it’s in. With timing and some good luck, we can break in and you can read it for yourself.” Jimmy sat back with a crooked grin on his face as Ridley punched the air.

“Jimmy, you're a legend!” he crowed.

“We’re not breaking into the Houses of Parliament and stealing government property,” Nairo said shortly.

Both of them turned to look at her in confusion.

“What? Why not?” Ridley asked.

“Because it’s a crime and it's immoral and… I’m a police officer, Ridley! I can’t be committing burglary!” Her face felt flushed, but this time it was in indignation at what was being suggested.

“I mean… it’s not like a real crime or something,” Jimmy said.

“All crimes are real crimes, there wouldn’t be a law prohibiting them otherwise!”

“This could be the break we’ve been looking for!” Ridley said, frustration rising in his voice. “We can finally find out who these Elves are and…”

“Then what? It might answer a few questions, but it won’t tell us where the Diamond is!”

“You don’t know that! I think this is how we crack this case,” Ridley argued.

“Forget it, we can’t solve a crime by committing crimes. You might not have any ethics or morals, but I do.”

“What about the coroner’s report?” Ridley shot back at her.

Nairo's eyes flashed to Jimmy and then she glared at Ridley.

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“That was looking the other way for a friend who put their neck on the line to help us. This is a Police Officer planning and actively participating in a crime!”

“Well I’m doing it,” Ridley crossed his arms and glared at her hotly.

“Actually Ridley, it’s a five-man job,” Jimmy said. “I’ve got my two guys on the inside but I need you and the Sarge.”

“Good. Then it’s off,” Nairo said glaring back at Ridley.

“No it’s not. We’ll make it work,” Ridley growled. “Just because you ain’t got the balls to solve this, doesn’t mean I won’t close this case.”

They both stood where they were eyes locked.

“Let’s talk to the Cap’n,” Nairo said after a few silent moments. “We’re the police, we can subpoena the office for that form. I want to bring this case in just as bad as you, but we’ll do it the right way.”

Ridley stayed stubbornly silent for a few more moments before he slowly uncrossed his arms.

“We can try it,” he said but then turned to Jimmy. “Put the wheels in motion, I don’t trust the Cap’n as much as she does.”

“We’ll go first thing in the morning. I’m sure the Cap’n will help us anyway he can.”

*

“So you’ve got a lead?”.

“Got a lead that'll blow this case wide open!” Ridley said, slamming his drink down on the Captain’s desk.

“Don’t exaggerate Ridley,” Nairo said, shooting Ridley a sharp look. “We believe we have a strong lead, Cap’n, but we need to do some basic background checks on the Elves and their travel companions.”

“The Elves?” Mallory growled suspiciously, smoke curling from the downturned slash of his mouth, his eyes narrowed slits glinting in the cigar fog.

“Just to eliminate them from our enquiries and corroborate dates and times.”

“And since the precious Elves won’t grace us with their feathery presence,” Ridley said, lounging in his chair sipping on the drink he had poured himself.

“I’m so sick of hearing about bloody Elves,” Mallory said. “Did yer see what that one was wearing? He looked like a tree worm!”

“Oh what, the little nob in 6 inch heels?” Ridley replied.

Mallory shot Ridley a cold look and turned back to Nairo.

“Background checks?”

“Just need a few subpoenas sir,” Nairo answered succinctly.

“Subpoenas?” Mallory paused with his drink inches from his lips.

“Just a release of information.”

“You need information on the Elves?”

“And their companions.”

Mallory inhaled deeply and that was always a bad sign.

“Of course sir, as stated in the PD Academy Manuals, ‘good Police work is eliminating possibilities and a detective must pursue information, under the Uniform Freedom Of Information In Pursuit of Lawful Justice and Maintenance of Peace and Order Section 48, Page 178, that will narrow down an investigation to only pertinent lines of enquiry.’” Nairo recited and then smiled at the Captain.

“It says that? I mean of course… yes… section forty…” Mallory cleared his throat and blinked, he had been awake for two sleepless nights now and the fight had gone out of him. “That sounds like… good police work, Sergeant.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Well, let me know when you’ve got the paperwork done.”

“No need sir, I have it all right here,” Nairo pulled out a wad of papers as thick as a stack of bronze coins.

“When did you do those?” Ridley asked incredulously.

“Some time between you passing out and you urinating out of the window,” Nairo answered.

“Oh, you saw that?”

Mallory choked on his drink.

“You stayed the night together!”

“Yes and yes, but not like that… never like that. Sign here please Captain.” She placed the stack of papers on Mallory’s desk, upside down, and magicked a pen out of the air.

“What do you mean never?” Ridley muttered.

“And here… and here… and signature… date. Thank you Cap’n,” Nairo yanked the papers out from underneath the Captain’s pen while he was still trying to process the thought of Nairo and Ridley spending the night.

“I’ll get these processed for you Cap’n. Come Ridley!” She had already pulled on her rain cloak and was walking out of the door.

Ridley drained the rest of his drink and stood up to shake the Cap’n’s hand. As the Cap’n absentmindly extended his hand Ridley snaked his drink from his desk and downed it in one.

“Been a pleasure Cap,” Ridley winked at Mallory and sauntered out after Nairo.

Mallory watched him sweep out of the office and blinked heavily. He inhaled deeply ready to roar a torrent of abuse but this chest sagged and head dipped to his chest.

“I’m getting too old for this,” he groaned.

Ridley caught up with Nairo as she dropped off the papers at reception.

“Nicely done Sargent,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you,” Nairo said as they walked out of the Police Headquarters.

“So let’s go get this bit of paper and nail these Elves to wall!” Ridley crowed excitedly.

They stepped out to the drizzling grey morning, cabs hurried past them and blue clad officers swarmed in and out, desperately covering the morning’s hot food under their cloaks.

“The wheels of justice don’t work that quick,” Nairo said. “The paperwork won't be ready until midday.”

“Shit,” Ridley cursed. “So what now? Lunch?”

“It’s still breakfast time and as much as I enjoy paying for your food I think our time’s better spent working the case. I think we need to know more about this Diamond. If, eventually, we find ourselves in a confrontation we would be best knowing what we’re up against.”

Ridley nodded in agreement.

“Conway said he was working on a contact for us. Let’s pop down to the basement and pay him a visit.”

*

“So the rookies shat the bed?” Conway grunted as he eased himself back in his chair and threw his crumpled boots on his desk.

“Big time,” Nairo muttered, blowing a bit of errant hair out of her face.

“Well…” Ridley said. “We did find out that De Woolf was still in the city.”

“No thanks to those two idiots!” Nairo said.

“And we did find out that De Woolf isn’t welcome out West.”

“Doesn’t mean they’re not a pair of braindead imbeciles.”

“And I hear you met the Landlord?” Conway said, his eyes watching Nairo carefully.

She blanched at the name. The unbidden sounds of fists cracking into flesh came back to her. She shook her head and dispelled them. They were nothing but the tendrils of a bad dream.

“We had the pleasure,” Ridley said.

“Hmmm,” Conway grunted.

“He's psychotic,” Nairo said.

“Well he plays one very well,” Conway said.

“He almost beat one of his own men to death in front of us,” Nairo said, trying not to remember the way the blood sprayed.

“That’s the type of animal Bill is,” Conway said, sipping his drink. “I’m old enough to remember when his old man and his mob still ran the West. Now, mind you, I didn’t agree with them about the whole species purity nonsense, but they did look after their own. Kids were safe on their streets, women could go about their business unmolested, and working men didn’t have to worry about being undercut…”

“As long as they were the right colour and species,” Nairo said, her eyes narrowed.

“Like I said, I didn’t agree with all that bollocks. But, if you were there you would understand. There was a certain… civility out West you just didn’t get anywhere else.”

“What happened?” Nairo asked.

“The Goblin-Human riots. That was a bloody five years but ultimately the Goblins won. The human alliance crumbled on the streets and they eventually caved. That’s when the city was carved into the quadrants we have today by then Mayor Comwell. It brought an end to the violence but left a lot of bitter tastes in the mouths of the most extreme. They saw it as betrayal. Their leaders had effectively signed away giant portions of the city to foreign hordes. That’s when Bill came back from the war. Fresh from the front and with a taste for blood he rallied those still willing to fight. He swooped in during the chaos, killed half of the ring leaders on his own side, and terrorised the rest into falling in line. Say what you want about the older generation, but at least they believed in something. Bill? Only thing he believes in is control and power. And the only way he knows how to get them is through terror. But then, I suppose any human who puts themselves at odds with the Goblin Kith and the Gnommish Triads has to be a right horrible bastard.”

“That we can attest to,” Ridley said darkly.

“Still,” Conway said, dropping his feet from the desk. “Bill knows there’s rules to the game and killing coppers, no matter how stupid they are, is off the table. He was just tryna scare you.”

“Well, we’re not investigating Bill Graves,” Nairo said with finality. “Did you manage to dig up anyone we can talk to about the Diamond?”

“Yes maam.” Conway fished in his drawer and dropped a file on the table. “That there is one Reeyan BilBil a tinker up in the Foundries. He’s been pinched half a dozen times for unlicensed repair of magickal items. I’ve asked about and he’s the city’s premiere expert on all things magick.”

“This is perfect,” Nairo said, flicking through his file.

“What kinda name is BilBil,” Ridley snorted.

“Well, rumour is he’s got a touch of Elf in him,” Conway said.

“A mixed breed?” Ridley said.

“Yeah. Somewhere down the line one of his ancestors shacked up with an Elf.”

“Is he… dangerous?” Nairo asked.

“Not as far as I can tell. He is a little… funny,” Conway jabbed the side of his head with a gnarled finger. “But he’s harmless enough. Mainly fixes GlowStones and HotRocks for the people in the Foundries. His handler is one to watch out for though.”

“Handler?” Nairo asked.

“You can’t operate in the Foundries without belonging to one of the gangs,” Conway explained. “The Goblins got the deepest finger in that pie and BilBil’s a valued asset. I would keep an eye out for the Kith. Probably be wise to go in with a cover story and I would avoid mentioning the Diamond directly if you can.”

Nairo nodded and tucked the file under her arm.

“Can we go now?”

“Yeah. I’ve set you up through an old snitch of mine, Coulus Depry. He’ll meet you there and get you in the front door. After that you’re on your own. And Sarge, I’d keep your badge well and truly in your pocket. Law don’t extend too far in the Foundries and coppers ain’t welcome.”

“Understood.”

“Cheers Conway,” Ridley shook the veteran’s hand and stubbed out his smoke.

“I’ll keep my ear to the ground here, see if there’s any rumblings about the Diamond on the streets.”

“Thank you, sir.” Nairo collected her things and followed Ridley out of the office.