Last time, Roe and Owan went back to their office and discovered they had a potential client…albeit one with dangerous relics on her person…
My stomach knotted at those words.
Gladys was still talking about her brother, which made me glad, because it meant she hadn't noticed me freeze, even if it wasn't for long. I set my cup of coffee aside and glanced up at Roe, nodding to let her know I'd seen her message.
As was the way with glamour, now that I knew it was there, things became plain. Gladys was still tall, but with more of the air of a coltish lankiness than a full-grown woman. The nervous gestures I'd noticed that made her seem younger fit her true age--I guessed her to be sixteen or seventeen. Maybe, in a few years, she'd actually be that silver screen beauty, but not now. What was more, as Gladys paused in her story, I noticed the faint point to the tips of her ears.
Great. So Gladys was also half-fae. Why the hell she hadn't said so was beyond me--most in the community knew that I was a half-fae and that my assistant was full fae.
"That should do it, right, Owan?" Roe's tone was pointed, and I realized she was answering a question Gladys had asked. She nodded at me.
"Yeah, I think that's all the information we need."
Gladys glanced between us. "You think you'll be able to find Nick?"
"I don't want to promise anything," Roe said gently. "It's a big city. But we'll do our best."
As she ushered the girl out of the office, I slapped my notebook down on my desk and leaned back on my hands, frowning. Where would she have gotten her hands on glamoured jewelry? There was a disturbing amount of glamoured items going around lately... I thought of our last case, a kelpie controlled by his non-sidhe spouse, via a glamoured necklace. As far as I'd known, the curators had had the illegal trade in relics well in hand since around the turn of the century.
Roe came back into the office, quickly crossing the room to grab her coat off the back of her chair.
"Where are you going?" I asked, straightening up.
"I'm going to follow her." Roe gave me a worried glance. "Those earrings... Owan..." She shook her head and swung her coat over her arms.
“Whoa—hold up a second!” I ran after her. “Is that smart?”
“Maybe not, but I’m tired of relics running around the city under the curators’ noses and not knowing where they’re from.”
“You really think that girl could tell you?”
“I don’t know what to think, Owan.” Roe straightened her hat and sighed. “That girl wasn’t a skilled enough actress to pull off the guileless act. So, she may not know what she’s messing with. On the other hand, she’s half-fae. She should know better than to mess with relics. Especially relics of that sort.”
We got to the lobby, before I had a chance to ask her what she meant by that. Mister Wazelski waved to us. In the corner of the entryway, out of his sight, Roe stopped, a look of concentration on her face. Her form went fuzzy around the edges. If I hadn’t been looking at her right then, she would have disappeared from my sight, but once again, since I was aware of the glamour, it meant I could see her. Anyone else, though, would only see a slip of a shadow, or maybe a flicker in the corner of their eye—if they were lucky.
We’d talked about using this full-fae ability of Roe’s before to tail subjects, but so far we hadn’t had an opportunity to test it. Roe slipped out of the door, and I followed quickly after. We weren’t far behind Gladys, and I spotted her walking quickly down the sidewalk. Roe hurried after her, easily slipping in and out of the crowd, and I followed after a moment, trying to keep both of them in sight.
Gladys threw a glance over her shoulder, and I ducked my head down, tugging my hat over my face a little. Not for the first time, I wished I had the ability to glamour my face. As a half-fae, the best I could produce was a thin shielding over my body that could slightly deflect a punch or a blade. When I glanced up again, I just caught sight of Roe disappearing around a corner.
Gladys led us past the business district our office was in, through a section of town that gradually got poorer and poorer. Tenement housing for factory workers rose up around us, and the crowds on the street got thinner. Most folks would be at work at this time of the day, though there were a few men loitering in small groups on corners who leered after Gladys. On every block, a gang of boys--and a few girls--were playing rowdy games of baseball in the street. As we passed one such group, a few boys noticed Gladys and shouted after her about Nick.
So, he was real, and not just some made-up kid. And he really was connected to her. That was good to know.
Gladys stepped into the doorway of a building. Roe glanced back at me, and I gave a cautious nod before walking on, past the house, to the corner of the street. There, I stopped and fished into my pocket for the packet of cigarettes that I always kept there. I rarely smoked, but sometimes it was nice to have the illusion of it as an excuse for lingering somewhere. It didn't take long before Roe brushed against my elbow, her silent signal that she was ready to move on.
We circled back towards our office, Roe ducking into an alley so she could drop her glamour without startling anyone.
"You see anything?" I asked quietly.
"Hardly," Roe muttered. "She took the earrings off as soon as she got inside the building, though. And she went into the fourth apartment on the first floor--a guy opened the door for her, and she was handing him the earrings as she was walking in."
It wasn't much to go on. I fished my notebook from my pocket and flicked to the notes I'd been taking while Gladys talked. "It's not even her building."
"So...a reasonable conclusion would be she doesn't own the earrings," Roe said. "And she's returning them to whoever does own them."
I nodded. It wasn't a concrete fact, but it did seem reasonable.
Roe glanced up at the sky, then made a face and checked her watch. "I'll have to scoot after lunch today, Owan--sorry. I'm supposed to be at the Museum today at three for training."
I knew little enough about the Museum, except that it was located somewhere in Brooklyn and was the headquarters for the curators in New York. "No worries. I'll finish up some paperwork, maybe poke around and see if Gladys really did file a report about her missing brother."
Roe gave me a sideways look, one eyebrow raised. "I'm not going to have to rescue you again, am I?"
I chuckled. "Nope. Once was enough for me."
Roe shook her head, the motion making her curly red hair bounce around her shoulders.
When we got back to the office building, we were hailed from across the street. I glanced over and spotted a police vehicle, Detective O'Rourke leaning against the hood. He stood and jogged across the street to us.
"Glad I caught you two--I was just about to leave a note with your building's super and go to lunch." He touched the brim of his hat as he nodded to Roe. "Miss Gillam."
She smiled back. "What can we do for you today, Detective?"
O'Rourke casually glanced around the street for a moment, then lowered his voice. "You remember what I said earlier, about the fact that a few jewelry stores have been broken into lately? Well, my captain wants me to set up stakeouts at jewelry stores in the area. Figures that maybe we might be able to catch whichever gang--or gangs--are operating, or at least get a peek at them. So, you two want in?" He shot me a grin. "It's good press for a private dick to be seen helpin' out us poor bluebacks."
I chuckled. "That's certainly something I'd be interested in. Roe?"
"Oh no--I have classes, remember?" She elbowed me.
"Oh, right. Sorry." I rubbed my ribcage. "Guess it'd be just you and me, Detective. You don't mind, do you, Roe?"
"Of course not. This way, if you do get into trouble, there's someone to watch your back." Roe glanced at her watch, then flashed a smile at O'Rourke. "You two probably want to plan for this evening, I'd imagine. Don't worry about me, Owan--I'll find a quick lunch then catch a train to my classes." She patted me on the arm in farewell and left, walking at a sedate pace down the street.
I frowned. Roe hadn't seemed worried about it, but I hated that she'd have to miss the stakeout. It was a fantastic opportunity, not only for the case, but for her to learn more of the business. Couldn't be helped, though--curator training took precedence, on the few occasions it clashed with our work.
O'Rourke elbowed me in the same spot Roe had hit earlier. "You've got yourself a fine dame there, Craig."
"Oh, we're--she's not--I'm--"
O'Rourke laughed uproariously and slapped my shoulder. "You don't have to cover around me, boy. C'mon--let's grab some lunch and jaw about this evening. Then you can get back to whatever you were doing, and I'll pick you up tonight."
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