Faetality, p.6
Faetality, page 6
As she lugged her bounty through the occupied tables, I caught her eye and gave a dorky wave. Internally cringing, I simply smiled as best I could when she noticed who it was.
‘Jessie, good to see you, please come with me, we can talk in the kitchen while I unpack.’ She spoke with her sunshine and honey grin. Today she had her hair out natural, the tight curls making a halo around her head. Gold themed make up only enhanced her beauty, and I felt like a giant gawky fake as I clumsily bumped my way through every table to follow her. Pushing my way through the saloon doors, I came face to face with both Martina and another woman, this time an older black lady.
‘Oh, is this your mother?’ I asked carefully. Martina and the woman burst into peals of laughter. My heart fell through the floor as the urge to vomit rose. No amount of drugs could have prepared me for this interaction. Why was I feeling so weird?
‘Oh hell no honey. My momma is dead, remember? Janelle is a good friend of mine and is an excellent cook. She came in to help my other cook when Martine disappeared. But you can trust her, she cares for him all the same.’ Martine gave a gentle giggle as she dropped the bags onto a cleared counter. Janelle nodded her head curtly and turned back to her sizzling grill. Burger patties and bacon left an amazing scent on the air. My stomach gave a traitorous growl which I quickly tried to stifle. Martine disappeared into the massive walk-in refrigerator with one if her bags.
‘Give 'em fries a shake up for me, girl.’ Janelle ordered gently as she quickly flipped the patties and grabbed down plates. I had never done food service in my life, but I found the deep fryer and pulled up the basket, shaking it gently. ‘Naw girl, give it some grease!’ She shouted, without a hint of anger. I shook them far more vigorously and re-submerged them.
Within seconds there were buns on the plates, salad flying everywhere and patties coming off the grill.
‘Ok girl, pull up 'em fries and hang 'em on that wire like the other basket.’ I quietly obeyed while sauce bottles were being flung around and brandished like weapons. She gestured for me to fill a bowl with the fries. Simply lifting the basket was a struggle, but eventually I managed to tip them in. Salt was flung in, fries tossed and portioned onto plates as Janelle rang the service bell loudly. I stood in awe as the most mouth-watering food was now being taken away by the tiny waif of a waiter. He looked like a delicate elf yet still managed to carry 5 plates at once. Janelle quickly turned back to her grill and threw on yet more patties.
‘Get 'em more fries from the fridge eh?’ She muttered as she pointed towards the door with her spatula. I couldn't avoid grinning at the casual way she had dragged me into forced labour here, not that I minded. Anything to help Martina. I pushed my bag onto an empty shelf and trotted over to the fridge. When I got inside Martina laughed heartily at my request, showing me where the bags of fries were.
‘I will be out in a minute, then we can talk. Sorry about this Jessie. We are so short-handed without Martine.’ I tried to mutter some response about how I was happy to help or the like, but apparently my mouth decided it was again time to imitate the Sahara Desert. Clutching the bag of fries, I nodded awkwardly the whole way back into the kitchen.
When the next lot of fries were on and Janelle had me cutting open burger buns, Martina finally emerged from the refrigerator. Her eyes were reddened and perfect make up now smudged. Opening my mouth to ask her if she was OK only served to get me quickly interrupted.
‘So Jessie, do you have news for me?’ Her voice cracked and hands tremored.
‘Yes, I... well sort of. I have a better idea of where these men are going now. I was wondering if we could use the link you have with your brother to narrow down his location further. I need to do some more research first, but we might be uniquely lucky that you two are twins.’ I answered as I shook the fries and was directed to fetch some plates as well as take away wrappings. Once again condiments and toppings were caught up in this whirlwind of a dance by Janelle.
‘That is good, but what is the bad news you aren't telling me?’ The question was shrewd. This woman could read me far too easily.
‘There is bad news. The first body has shown up that might be a part of the case. I don't know for sure yet, I need to go to it after I am finished here. It’s not Martine though.’ I added in quickly.
‘Oh I know Martine is still alive, I do know that much. I still feel him. But this news scares me. He feels exhausted.’ Martina's voice almost exploded into a sob, but she held off her tears.
I was struck again by her control and dignity. This glorious woman had her world falling apart around her yet still kept up a near perfect facade. I checked and drained the fries as Janelle put the finishing touches on the burgers. Martina unpacked more of the groceries as she spoke.
‘I will go over immediately to investigate this... body. Then I can research the twin thing. Oh! I have a mobile phone number now too. Erm. You can contact me... on it. If you want. Need!’ Oh, I was being a dope again. I turned back to my fries and threw them into the bowl. My face felt like it was exploding with a brilliant redness. How did professional people handle this? I had never been a professional in any legitimate field before.
Working the streets didn't count, the closest I had was working in the K-Hole. I was too caught up in my anxiety wallowing to notice that Martina had approached me. Of course, that then made me jump when startled.
‘Here, my business card. Text me your details when you can.’ She gave me a watery smile, still stunning despite the tears bordering her dark eyes. I nodded dumbly as I shoved the card into a pocket. Janelle finished up plating her latest creations and rang the service bell impatiently. As the plates were being collected, I said my goodbyes to both women. After wrapping the takeaway order, Janelle stuffed it in a bag and passed it to me.
‘Who is it for?’ I asked, looking out of the saloon doors to see who was waiting.
‘Eh, it be yours. I heard that stomach going.’ In her coarse, husky way, Janelle was so sweet. Now it was my turn to start the waterworks.
‘Are you sure? I can pay,’ I asked as the tears stung my dry eyes. Janelle simply snorted and went back to wrangling her grill. I looked at Martina.
‘Consider it a part payment for helping out and finding my brother. We both need that right now.’ As Martina spoke she nodded towards Janelle. I inhaled the intense aroma of the food I had longed for so. Giving a teary nod, I made my exit to squirrel away my food.
That burger was every bit as delicious as I imagined, with a variety of spices, sauces and fresh salad. This was the kind of food I had not had the luxury of eating since I went on the streets. Even the fries were a sensation, made with actual potatoes, spices and just enough salt. Even with, or perhaps because of the dead body awaiting me, I took the time to sit and eat on a bench seat.
This fancier part of town even had a little green park, with children running around and lovers taking picnics. While I may have looked a little wistful at those happy, loved up faces, it was not the life for me.
At times it felt as though I didn't even know how to have an emotional connection with someone in that way. In the past, having an emotional connection to someone in my life had proven wounding, if not deadly. I had more of an emotional connection to these heavenly fries.
Then a mischievous little intrusive thought popped into my head, nebulously suggesting an emotional connection to Martina. The blush tore up my neck and face as I jammed every last morsel into my mouth so fast that I almost choked. Stomping off to escape my own embarrassment, the park was suddenly less cute. In fact, it was loud, bright and awful. There were smug people flaunting their loved-up relationships. I could feel their judging eyes on me as I left. I now hated parks.
My foul mood made the walk to Central Bayton much faster than I had expected. Standing outside the door to Damien's rooms as I desperately tried to catch my breath, I remembered that I had wanted to question some of the more magickal stall holders at the markets. The temptation was overwhelming. I could either go check out a dead body with a man who despised me but acted oddly, or chat about fascinating links between twins. I dithered on the doorstep, knowing which one I preferred, but also which one was more of an urgent nature. A dead body lying in the street would attract both attention and pestilence. Before I could steel myself, the door burst open, narrowly missing me as I jumped back.
‘Jessie, ye be here. We best be goin'. Me man I got watchin' the body ain't none too happy 'bout it. He been callin' and textin'. C'mon girl.’ Damien grabbed my hand as the door slammed closed, apparently prepared to manually drag me to the body if needed.
‘How did you?’ I asked, looking at the faces around me.
‘Eh, there be security cam'ras see?’ He pointed hurriedly to the multitude of security cameras bristling from every angle.
Of course. He still tugged at my hand, so I couldn't help but follow.
‘How far is it?’ I didn’t want to whine, but I was feeling short of breath again already.
‘Not far. Don't need to drive.’ He responded as he pushed his way through the crowd. Two meaty security guards fell in with us and would clearly be joining us on this jaunt.
‘Do you recognise him?’ My voice came out annoyingly breathy. Why did such a voice always sound so sexual?
‘Naw, ain't seen him here never. He real skinny, ain't got tattoos or nothin' I can see. Nothin' really obvious anyways.’ The path was a winding one through some alleys, although I could tell that we were heading in the same direction as the trail I had followed previously.
Damien retained his death grip on my hand until we stood before a thick crowd of people. Now I realised why we had two massive guards. They simply parted the grumbling crowd with their meaty arms, although few were ready to complain when they saw that it was Damien coming through. These people seemed to genuinely like him, even smiling and nodding a greeting as they were pushed out of the way. I was surprised, but that was short lived when I saw the body.
Chapter Ten
Living on the streets of Bayton meant that I had seen plenty of bodies before, from overdoses to murder. This body was different. This body felt different. He was absolutely skeletal and appeared twisted. His spine was bent oddly, fingers gnarled and some were clearly broken many times over. Bruises littered his entire body, and he was lying out on his back. Much of the skin on his right side was an odd shade. It was as if he had a body wide bruise, although there were large pale patches within it. Something about this triggered a memory, but I couldn't place it.
Reaching for my notebook, I remembered that I now owned a phone which was capable of taking pictures. My hand brushed my pill tin as I rummaged through my bag. I desperately wished that I had taken a much higher dose. A little numbness right now would have worked wonders. Finally, I found my phone in a far-off crevice in my behemoth of a bag. I began to snap pictures and take notes but was distracted by the goofy smile on Damien's face when he saw the phone. I chose to ignore it.
There were odd welts on the man's back, which reminded me of whip marks. The man was skinny, but also surprisingly muscular. I was no expert, but this seemed unusual. It was almost as if the man had lost all fat, however had worked out aggressively. Muscle, sinew and bone all stuck out at odd angles. This man had clearly been over worked and under nourished.
Wherever this man had been, he had been treated like a slave, with little healthcare. Flies were already gathering around the body, so I looked him over as quickly as possible. There was very little in the way of identifying features. He was even shaved completely bald, with only red eyebrows a visible indicator of what was.
He was dressed only in a pair of plain shorts, and his feet were heavily callused and cracked. This man had either never been a fan of closed shoes or had been doing some intense work without them. This seemed to be as much information as I could glean out of the body, so I started to look at the surrounding street.
Unfortunately there was absolutely nothing unique present, this was a well-used alley with much of the standard city detritus. Discarded paper, flyers for gigs, needles, chewing gum, nothing out of the ordinary.
There was nothing else to be done bar the one important step that I dreaded to do above all others. I placed my bare hand on the corpse. My senses flooded, the smell of dirt and blood, digging, a meal of thin porridge. The same faerie magick bound all of these memories together, a pink haze. This man was definitely connected to my case; however, it was impossible to make out any details from this poor husk. I walked back to Damien.
‘Ok well, I guess I have done everything I can do. Short of an autopsy, there isn't much more information that can be gleaned from this poor bastard.’ I tried to keep my voice low, to cover my contempt at the images and impressions I had seen. The gathered crowd were already curious enough.
‘Well, I be thinkin' I be knowin' a doctor might help us. She doin' all the surgeries and stitchin' up of the folks round here. She always helped those on the streets and all. I'm thinkin' she may be helpin' us again, to be savin' more people. I will get this body wrapped up and packed away and ask her help,’ He finished, motioning to the gathered guards. They produced a tarpaulin and quickly rolled the body securely in it. They quickly moved off with the body held between them, the two burly guards effortlessly carrying what was now a frail husk of a man.
‘You think she would do something like an autopsy though? Not many people would want to deal with... inhumanity.’ I asked carefully, trying to phrase it as delicately as possible. Damien just shrugged as the crowd dispersed before offering me a cigarette. I nodded more out of politeness, as I had my own. He lit both before passing one across.
‘Can only be askin'. She a real smart doctor, ain't like she wouldn't be knowin' more about that fella's inner workin's. Gimme a minute.’ Damien stepped a few feet away to be polite but remained within earshot.
‘Hey Doc Celeste. No, no, I am fine, and me boys. No, but we do got a problem. There been that new drug that be makin' them folks disappear yeah? Well, I found me a private investigator for it...’ I tried not to snort with laughter or derision. He had been so recalcitrant at the beginning, but phrased it as his own idea to bring me in. As it was I had to stifle a smirk but forced my face to neutral before listening in again. ‘... Ye be a normal doc and all. But we got a dead man, and this Jessie be sayin' she need an autopsy for her case. No, you know 'em Agency or police don't be comin' here. They ain't want none of this. No, ain't no one gonna look but us. OK, I will take it there. Thank you. I appreciate it.’ Damien hung up and turned back to me.
‘She good?’ I knew the answer but wanted details.
‘Yeah, she said she got a friend in West Bayton who got a vet surgery. We take him in, and she will come and do as good as she can. Ain't no guarantees, but she got some testing and things she can do. Apparently it’s all the same for 'em animals? I dunno.’ He looked a little confused at that, but Damien certainly could bring people together. I had to hand it to him; he was far more involved in this than Stevie or Nathaniel. Perhaps my early impressions were wrong, and the real man was the one all his people seemed to love. Or perhaps it was just because he had finally taken a shower and shaved.
‘OK, so we have an autopsy. That's... great. I guess. Soooo, when is it?’ I was hoping I would not have to attend. Unfortunately, I didn't really trust anyone else to take good enough notes for me.
‘Aye, gotta be after they close. So be around 6:30 tonight. That gonna fit around your... work?’ he asked gently, and I was astonished to see no hint of derision.
‘Well, yeah. I was hoping to get over to the K-Hole tonight, but I can do it after. You still gonna buy-’ I was shushed quickly by Damien placing a hand over my mouth, surprisingly gently.
‘Aye, we don't be talking like that now eh?’ He asked, rather than threatened. I could have kicked myself for my faux pas. Of course, he didn't want me blabbing his business plans to anyone around. I felt like a fool. There was a dead body in the middle of Bayton, of course there was a crowd.
‘Yes. So, I guess I can get the address off you? Will walk over there in a bit.’
‘Nah, I can be taking ye there if ye want me to grab ye. Be drivin' there anyway. You let me know, sendin' me a message and address beforehand yeah?’ He didn't really wait for an answer before loping away. It was almost as if this big, tough man got shy whenever he asked me to contact him. Whatever, he might be nicer now, but he sure wasn't Martina Maydwell.
With that intrusive thought I blushed furiously, it was my turn to lope away feeling foolish.
Did I really like her that much? Was this even remotely professional?
Oh dear.
Chapter Eleven
As promised I messaged Damien the address to be picked up, about a block away from where I was really staying. He probably already knew where I was shacked up, but there was no need to rub it in. Nor to bring Stevie and Damien in that kind of close proximity.
I kept my notebook close and took enough pills to soften the shock of my first autopsy. There was no way I had ever expected to be doing this in life. Knowing I would likely head across to the K-Hole afterwards, I quickly slapped on some make up and cleaned myself up a little. It was not exactly a classy establishment, but I would have far more competition. Plus, I was in such a good place, it felt nice to dress up a little.
When all I had to look forward to at the end of the night was an opium softened nap in a dirty gutter, there seemed little reason to look particularly good. It wasn't like the clients cared anyway. But with a little extra effort at the K-Hole, I could land a better quality of client and make some better money while I was at it.
A glance in the mirror confirmed that I had pulled off something of a look, a little less fatigue and street grime. Close enough was good enough under “sultry” lighting. I took an extra bump for good luck and headed out. The various body guards stomping around the rooms nodded at me as I passed. Never before had I had such unfettered access. It was almost a sense of respect.
