Rasping the palm of his stocky hand against a days worth of stubble; "Aye, we've got a load of cars, not sure about how many Citroën's. There's a nice FIAT that someone rolled, should be fairly compatible. You do have a panel beater?"
"Me Dad's a good 'un, if not. Course he ain't here now. And for wheels, well..." His eyes light up; "We've got a sporty one, Colin Turkington from the Touring Cars, well he was up at Tockwith racing and went into the gravel. So we have some spare stuff from the wreck." He adds with genuine enthusiasm.
Kenneth laughs, "Aye, I may ken the lad ye're describing. A touch taller than 1.9 meters, 'bout a hundred kilos, auburn hair, sprinkling ay freckles, inhumanly handsome... I'm thinking he might be interested, though I'm nae quite sure what you're suggesting... should that investigator be having a wee chat with your partner? Seems the sort ay thing that could be get a Scot in trouble... especially here in England."
There's a sharp intake of breath from Laura as she nearly interrupts, her demeanour changing from amused to concerned; "NO! I was thinking of giving such a person information to investigate. I don't know he knows any other investigators? My colleague is my concern & I wouldn't want any trouble."
Danny walks into the office building, more like a Site Office from a construction site, it would have a temporary and unfinished feel if it wasn't so cluttered. Papers are piled up everywhere in slipshod stacks that seem ready to loose their contents upon the gritty floor at a moments notice. The dusty blinds let in enough light to see by, though it takes a few moments to adjust.
Behind a high desk facing the door there's a lady in her early 20's with dusty blonde hair pulled back in a severe ponytail biting at her finger nails as she looks off into the distance distractedly. "What?" she says in a bored and very common accent.
Kenneth says, "Ach, so then ye're asking if I can pass along your info tae the nearest Herald ay the Tuatha Dé Danann tae have him look intae this? I can probably handle that, though I warn you, he's like tae share your information with some ay the unsavoury bodies he associates with. Is this information you'd like tae share o'er the phone, or are you looking for an excuse tae stare intae my eyes again?"
Danny walks into the office building, ...
Behind a high desk facing the door there's a lady in her early 20's with dusty blonde hair pulled back in a severe ponytail biting at her finger nails as she looks off into the distance distractedly. "What?" she says in a bored and very common accent.
Danny dredges up a smile that doesn't come close to entering his eyes.
"Yeah. Hi. How ya' doin'?" Danny says with artificial enthusiasm.
He bobs his head towards the door.
"My sister is lookin' for parts. Her biker-boyfriend said that you had a help wanted sign. And, well, I'm looking for a job." He adds, smiling with all of the joy of a goldfish staring at a sushi bar.
It is PAINFULLY obvious that this young man is only 'in need of a job' because his sister is obviously tired of his deadbeat ways.
That, and/or his sister's 'biker-boyfriend' has threatened him with physical harm if he doesn't get his act in gear.
Or both.
"So,... uh,... Do I fill out an application? Or something?" He says, his smile still in place. (And looks very likely to be hoping that the position has been filled.)
Mentioning the Fomor attack did not so much as faze him, Edwyn notes to himself, quietly coming to the conclusion that his benefactor knows a great deal more than he is letting on. As though that were not painfully obvious already. Never particularly fond of being spoonfed information on a need-to-know basis, a frown tugs at his mouth. That's all right. Two can play at that game.
"No kidding. She looked pretty... hale for someone who is supposed to be dead," he agrees, settling for the most appropriate of the few choice adjectives he has for her. Just the memory of the vigor she momentarily imbued him with is almost enough to make him shudder. "Incidentally, she gave me her contact information. I do not suppose you want me to just ask her what she is, do you?"
Rasping the palm of his stocky hand against a days worth of stubble; "Aye, we've got a load of cars, not sure about how many Citroën's. There's a nice FIAT that someone rolled, should be fairly compatible. You do have a panel beater?""Me Dad's a good 'un, if not. Course he ain't here now. And for wheels, well..." His eyes light up; "We've got a sporty one, Colin Turkington from the Touring Cars, well he was up at Tockwith racing and went into the gravel. So we have some spare stuff from the wreck." He adds with genuine enthusiasm.
Relieved that she's not going to have to start shooting or stabbing, Sal grins at the guy. "Your dad's a body man? I can manage, but it's not my favorite thing, and I only have weekends to work on it. Right now, the engine's pulled because I'm rebuilding it, but once it's running again, I'd love to have him look. A good body man is a real artist," she enthuses.
She looks around the yard and decides to work on establishing her gearhead creds. "Can you show me the Fiat? I wouldn't mind seeing the sporty car, too - the car shows always wreck the beauties, don't they? I don't know that the wheel will do me any good, though. I've got a DS Break - the Estate kind, but the converted ambulance - and it has 4-on-the-tree, so I think the steering column is going to have to remain original. I'm not a good enough mechanic to move the shifter."
She continues chattering at the poor guy, slowly steering the conversation to her real interest. "Hey, you got a boathouse, too? I might know someone looking to rent a slip. Do you rent slips and store boats? How about dry dock and repair?"
"Maybe not a meeting, I'll drop a message off at that bar we met up in that time." Kenneth can almost her a soft chuckle down the line as she remembers what happened. "It'll contain what the Herald needs to know."
Kenneth chuckles then says, "Aye, lass, ye remember who you're speaking tae? You might need tae be a little more specific."
He laughs again, then adds, "And, nae, 'tisnae that I dinnae recall fun times, in a pub with you. 'Tis more that I can think ay quite a few times that a body could call 'that time'."
He raises and eyebrow, then with a grin, starts on a list, "Just off the top ay my head, mind... Dae ye mean the one where we scandalized the owner intae thinking that our date was a paid transaction? -- Incidentally, by the by, ye'd still be a bargain at twice the agreed price -- Or mayhap the one where you were vexed about the barmaid's extra attention and her flirting, only tae have her slip both ay us her number when we settled up? -- Still say ye should ay called her, she looked quite energetic --- Or, if you'd prefer, there's the time I got intae a fight with those football hooligans that couldn't keep a mindful tone tae any woman in the place? -- Wait, no, it cannae be that one, I'm nae allowed tae go back there -- Oh, what about the one where I was playing that night and you almost got intae a fight with that lass who kept trying tae rush the stage? -- I still think she was trying tae get at the bass player, incidentally -- Or the one where the house band was so terrible that I tried tae use the Flame of Inspiration tae help them -- which only made things worse because they still hadnae any talent, but now were trying tae be creative with fills and solos..."
He trails off and then snaps his fingers and says, "Wait, no... I think I ken which one... where we met for a nice lunch, had a pair ay pints more than we should have, and then talked our way intae the back tae borrow the cot where they normally let folk 'sleep it off'... and then didnae sleep all afternoon. Would that be where I should be sending the Herald tae find his dossier?"
There's a wry rasping chuckle from the other end of the phone, the smooth plastic feels heavy in your hands; "You are the Investigator, not I. What I want to know is how she came back, what limitations are upon her, if the process is repeatable. As you may guess this could be beneficial to thyself..."
There's a pause from the other end; "Certainly other questions could be useful, the question of religion and so forth - however I don't believe that is as easy to gain answers to. She must have Power or knowledge, that is why the Formor attacked... punish them for their transgressions."
"York may not be under Vampire control anymore, but it is not open ground. Find them too and show no mercy." He says with a dark fanaticism of the old religions.
She stands slowly from behind the desk, with a friendly smile on her face and a hand on her heavily rounded belly - demonstrating why she will soon be on leave. "Oh, what I pity! A nice chap like you, I'd love to work with you. Well the boss is out at the moment, Jack his lad is about somewhere."
With a smile she adds; "Oh, it's Kelly, bee-tee-dubs. How's about I get you a tea? Or coffee, instant alright?" She pauses for a moment and looks to a side area; "Why don't you get me a tea, think of it as a trying for a recommendation." She smiles, craftily and points to a small room next to the 'managers' office.
He looks with some trepidation to the boathouse, it's battered and rusted sides meet the painted blockwork base. "Oh, that. Yeah, we do a bit of stuff in there."
"Here's the Fiat, it's pretty good for a 'write-off' but you know how insurance geezers are. Now, I'm pretty good with body-work. Maybe not as experienced as Da', but I can work some magic especially for someone with your sort of knowledge." He moves in front of a decent looking Fiat, with a heavily dented roof and no windows.
Opening it up and popping the hood for inspection; "Sounds like you've a bit of work to do, now we can do just parts or give you a bit of a hand. Then again, part of the beauty of it is trying to fix it theesenth."
As Kenneth starts his recollections, from the other end of the phone Laura seems to rapidly move into an even more private location. "Good time, you Crazy Celt. The latter, although they'll be no 'sleeping it off' - I'm on duty." She very quickly adds in a soft tone; "No-that-doesn't-mean-I'll-have-my-hand-cuffs-with-me. Not-after-that-time-at-the-park...." She then hangs up.
--------XXX---------
A small time later
The pub, cresting on the "real ale meets saturday evening" popularity, with the range of a dozen brews both cask and keg. Lays open before Kenneth, the dozen or so people in there mainly students, a couple of locals and a pair of obviously American tourists comprise the afternoon clientèle.
Laura stands at the bar, in an informal version of her work uniform. White shirt with a couple of buttons open, a black skirt and a light jacket over the seat of a barstool - making her seem like a typical office worker who's gotten off early. With a gin & tonic in her hand she salutes Kenneth and beckons him over by pushing a pint of ruddy beer towards the chair next to her.
With a smile she adds; "Oh, it's Kelly, bee-tee-dubs. How's about I get you a tea? Or coffee, instant alright?" She pauses for a moment and looks to a side area; "Why don't you get me a tea, think of it as a trying for a recommendation." She smiles, craftily and points to a small room next to the 'managers' office.
Danny looks from 'Kelly', to her belly, and to the side area, seeming to take a moment to put the pieces together. In reality he is just taking a slow breath, not wanting to jump the gun and seem to eager.
'Finally' Danny seems to get all the parts into place, and he turns his charming slacker-smile on Kelly.
"Oh, OH! Of course! Sorry! Sit right back down, I'll get'cha a cuppa." Danny slides easily into the 'British-always-politeness' that he found so charming and yet so annoying at the same time.
"Congrats by the way. How far along are ya? Is this your first?" Danny asks chatting politely. (In that unfortunately annoying way that ALL people with OUT kids speak to the obviously pregnant. Like being pregnant makes your life story suddenly public domain. At least he resisted the urge to try and touch the belly.)
He speaks slowly (compared to his usual hi-speed chatter) enough that he easily keeps his accent nondescript as he clumsily putters around the tiny kitchenette-area, taking stock of whats there.
"I luv kids me. Sis says I'd make a terrible role model. Mebbe she's right. But I think I'd be a brilliant Uncle." Danny continues chatting as he finds his way around and manages to get the water going.
"Not like THAT'S gonna happen anytime soon. She's too busy puttering around with her cars and motorbikes to 'settle down'. How do you take it?" Danny asks, popping his head back out and looking around. he makes sure his gaze doesn't linger on the 'MANAGER' door as he wonders if its open and how he could take a swift peek around.
THEN he wonders, what exactly would he be looking for?
It's highly unlikely that anyone in cahoots with the Fomor would leave convenient, easy clues to find. Like paperwork lying about with something easily spotable like,... 'Rental contract for Boat Slip. FOmor. For use of transportation of kidnapped people with magical abilities. Paid up through hostile takeover or end of the world. Whichever comes first'.
Nope. Probably not. SO it's back to the old standby. Getting info out the nice lady that she possibly doesn't even realize that she has. Or at least Danny HOPES she doesn't realize,.. he would be very unhappy to find that she was in cahoots with the fomor on purpose. She seems nice enough.
(Of course, Danny once dated two insane redheads. At the same time. So he's NOT always the best judge of character. He's also a slow learner sometimes.)
Not fond of the boathouse, are you, hijo? Sal thinks.
Sal lets out a soft but genuine oooooh, a connoisseur's appreciation of the sight of the high-powered engine. "Such a shame. These rich guys get a car they can't handle OR appreciate and wreck a work of art like this. And you're so right. I do as much as I can myself, though I'm not afraid to ask for help on things I don't like or am not good at, like body work." She looks at the mechanic appraisingly. "I'm surprised you don't fix this Fiat up yourself. Might be able to sell it for a pretty penny! Or drive it around, impress the girls." She grins up at him.
She looks around a bit, thinking. "I'm not sure I can use these parts for my own car, but if you have a place to fix it up, we could go halves on it and work on it together, split the proceeds? If you don't have a shop, we'd just need a shelter, like that boathouse. Might be a good use of it if it's not already full."
Kenneth looks around the place, scanning for supernatural threats... and beautiful women.... automatically, 'Tis a mite bit busier than last time we were here... His gaze lingers on a spot of empty wall, I reckon the wee drunk tank's just about there... might be fun tae a look for auild time's sake... After noting the cute new barmaid explaining to the tourist that the keg's not off, but that he'd ordered a pint of the extra-hoppy bitter, his eyes settle on Laura. Aye, and just the person tae spend a mite ay time with...
He considers sneaking up on her to say something completely inappropriate, hoping to make her blush, or giggle, or both.. Aye, she hates that, says it isnae professional, but the wee bit ay flush makes her even more beautiful.... As does the deeper, whole body flush... ach, she's seen me and is looking serious..
He slides into the offered chair and says with a wink, "Aye, ye look just like your picture online. Good, good. I was worried when all the photos were out ay date that I'd be needing a mate tae call me and rescue me, but it's looking more like you're just tae active tae be wasting all your time with selfies."
He reaches for the beer, "Dae I need tae ask the bartender if he's kept an eye on this? I'm told ye should nae take drinks in a pub that you didnae see them pour." He winks again, then says, "A'course, a bonnie lass like yourself likely wouldnae need tae drug a chap."
He starts to lean forward for a kiss, then holds, "Ach, you're nae on the clock, right? That's actually a G&T and nae just a tonic tae throw a body off? Wouldnae want tae cause any trouble with ye if you're on duty... but, if you arenae, then I'm like tae have a few things tae say about your legs in that skirt... and maybe a few whispers tae remind you about how much fun we had last time we were here.."
He holds up a hand and smiles, "I ken, I ken, there's nae time. In fact, I agree... I just thought it was worth building up a wee bit ay anticipation for later... A'sides, it nae hurts tae be a mite on edge when there's scary things in the dark. Keeps a body on its toes... So, is there a dossier I need tae be reading, or will this be an oral debrief -- and get your mind out ay the gutter, young lady."
For lack of a proper reflex, Edwyn shudders voluntarily. He was really starting to regret making this phone call, but the professional in him just couldn't help it. I've had some creepy clients before, but this guy really takes the cake. Once this is over, I should really look into raising my rates...
"...Understood," he says finally, unable to deny his personal stake in the matter. That he is being given so little in the way of direction merely means that he has more freedom to act as he pleases. Ordinarily that would do wonders for his work ethic, but nothing about this case was ordinary. Including his job, apparently. He did not like the idea of asking favors of someone he is already indebted to, but he was out of his depth here.
"Before I set out to punish the Fomor, I don't suppose you have anything I can use against them, do you? I'm a detective, not a crusader. Just one of those things was able to toss me around like a rag-doll."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
She smiles at Danny's practised patter; "Oh yeah, it's my first. I'm very excited, you know." There's a hint of nervousness to her attitude however; "Good cuppa this, boss like at least 3 sugars in his. Which is much too sweet for me, speaking of sweet did you see "Love ISland" last night that was so romantic. Man I'd love someone to sweep me off to a desert island."
"Much better than the lousy barge we have outside, once went down that with Dennis, my lad at the time before he cheated on me with Shirleen, she's a cow if ever I saw one, although Dennis's mate Jaden was trying it on with me so I shouldn't say anything; anyway we were going on the river - Dennis and me - not me and Jaden, he wouldn't stump up for a cinema ticket let alone borrow the bosses boat to travel to Selby. It were well romantic!" she concludes her verbose and winding story.
"Oh you have a sister? Cool." Kelly finally remembers, giving Danny a run for his money in the overly-talkative stakes.
Flattered by the American's knowledge and praise, smiles back. "Yeah, wish I could. Da' has his boat in there, and...." with a quick glance around to check that no-one is listening; "....he's rented to out for a few days to one of his mates from the boozer. I ain't supposed to go in there, maybe after they've moved the stuff out." He gives a shrug, clearly used to doing what his father wants.
"Look in the old roll-top desk, the top right-hand draw is a vial. That'll ensure you cannot be thrown around anymore, it's dust from the summit of the great mountains. Drab a spot on your fore-head and you'll be protected - however I'd advise against swimming." Your mentor says with a wry tone, avoiding explaining exactly what the substance will do; "If you require offense, well I know a friend of friend who can help or there is a stave I can courier to you."
Danny grins.
"Oi yeah! Well,... Part of it anyways. Enough to know I wuz right about that one fellow. He's a jerk. But the OTHER guy, sorry I'm turrible wit' names, I admit I wouldn'a mind losin out on the island if it wuz to him. He's just so,... Dang,... classy. Ya know?" Danny shrugs.
"Leastwise, Sis seems to agree, judgin' by the way she wuz eyeballin' the telly when she weren't fussin at me fer watchin' it." Danny adds with a knowing brotherly smirk.
'Wow. This lady can talk. I wonder if that's what I sound like to the others? Most of the time? Naw,... Wait, 'barge'?!?'
"Waitaminute. Yer boss has his own boat? THAT is so wicked. Me friend's Dad had a boat when I was little. He'd let me ride along some times. I always thought that would be the coolest thing ever, havin' yer own boat, gettin' ta ride free on the waves whenever yah wanted. Granted I never got to try being romantic on one. Now THAT makes it sound ever better!" Danny grins, not having to fake his enthusiasm.
"Do yah think I could take a peek at it? I haven't been on a boat in years. Never gave up on dreaming the dream though, you know?"
'Oh, sis? Yah she's outside, lookin' for her bits and parts. Don' git me wrong, she's not as bad as all that, nevermind my complainin'. She just wants whats 'best' fer me I guess. But she doesn't GET me, ya know?" Danny leans closer to the pregnant woman, clearly confiding something he would never tell his 'sister'.
"Oh as much as I'd like a verbal briefing, or debriefing, it'll have to be quick." she purrs into her gin, from a small bag - an eminently sensible business choice rather than Laura's usual going out clutches. Carefully to avoid any liquid from the base of the drinks, she puts a card on the counter-top.
"I've heard rumours that he may be connected with this mornings' troubles, however he is connected. Not sure your type of connections or more mundane - or if they are different anymore..." There's a hint of melancholy to her words, but she pushes past them in a professional way; "This is his offices, I've not got a name, just a business and a warning to stay away - lest there be legal repercussions." She smiles a trifle viciously; "Hence I thought I might sick you on them, especially because you'll owe me one - or maybe more than one."
Kenneth nods, "Aye, the degree tae which there's overlap between worlds ay late is a mite disconcerting. Some self-important vanilla dobber went and signed hisself ontae the Unseelie Accords, things ain't been right since. A'course, there was also the wee matter ay the wizard-vampire war... Ach, the bloody world sounds like a bad set ay episodes ay some show Danny'd like tae make me watch."
He takes a pull of his drink, shakes his head, and then taps the card, "In any case, thanks for this. I'll head over a take a quick look - and try nae tae mess up anything if there's something that's more actionnable on your side ay thing than mine. A'course, if ye've heard anything else about what a body might expect, I'd be more than pleased tae hear it."
He takes the opportunity to lift the pint glass to his lips, finishing the drink and giving Laura a chance to respond before putting it down, sighing and saying, "Duty calls... Though I'm right certain that's your line and nae mine." He stands, then leans in for a kiss, whispering, "Guess this'll be a downpayment, then...", but blinks as he pulls away, adding, "Though, as I think on it, if you're siccing me on them, then it's me doing you the favour... So, by my count, it'd be you owing me one? Or many, as the case may be?"
"Bummer," Sal sighs. "Looks like there's nothing here that I need right now, and I have to wait for my ex-boyfriend to try for that job you've got open. I made it clear he wasn't staying with me for free, so he sweet-talked me into giving him a ride looking for jobs." She makes a rueful face, rolling her eyes at her own gullibility.
"Will you keep that Fiat rebuild in mind? When will your dad's buddy be done with the boathouse? I'll check back in after that if you really want to restore that beauty. Maybe I'll drive my rebuild so you can see it!" Sal smiles brightly at her new mechanic friend. "In the meantime, you okay with me wandering around out here? Never know what kind of buried treasure you can find in a place like this." She looks around the rusty junkyard as if it's a small piece of gear head heaven.
At least there aren't junkyard dogs in this one, she muses. Come to think of it, when was my last tetanus shot?
'Ex-boyfriend?' The young man looks to the big corrugated steel building; "Well, I think Da' said that they'd be done with it by noon. I certainly haven't seen any figures in there today, although there were a bit of noise as I opened up early in the morning."
He motions to the building and produces a key from his pocket, "We could check it out and see if there's space clear for you."
Sal mentally jumps up and down and rubs her hands with glee.
In real life, she just smiles. "Awesome! That'll save me another trip out here. Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
Louis is, naturally, pronounced Loo-eee.
The phone in her pocket beeps and vibrates its 30 minute timer. "Woops, gotta check in with Mom. Never shoulda bought her a phone, but I didn't think she'd learn how to use it." Sal laughs, quickly texts Kenneth making progress 30 more minutes to next checkin, and sets the timer for another half-hour. She nods to her fellow. "Done. I'm Sal, by the way. Don't tell me your name is really Louis?"
She chats with the mechanic while they walk, keeping the phone in her hand and her hands in her jacket pockets, ready to pull it out for quick photos.
Leaning forward she kisses him on the cheek and softly whispers into his ear; "I owe you one. Depending on how good you are it may turn into multiple."
Tapping him on the cheek she takes a sip of her drink.
23a Wingrove Road
Above the Bookies
Acomb
York
YO5 7PQ
He smiles a big puppy dog grin; "Nah, it's just Jack. Named after my Da's terrier, could be worse - could be Russell." He jokes softly as he goes over to the door of the massive warehouse shed. He puts the key into a small door to one side, with a grimy window that completely obscures the interior.
Jack waves off Sal to move a step back, in case of trouble and opens the door gingerly.
There's a grinding noise of the door against the scrapyard debris and with a judder the door swings open. Immediately you are hit with a stench of rotting fish and viscera, Jack completely moves out of the way his eyes welling up with tears.
As Danny leans in, Kelly smiles with a twinkle in her eye; "Oooh ya are awful, but I like ya." Repeating the catchphrase of a long-forgotten comedian, she gives him a peck on the cheek before gently pushing him away.
"Head out and tell Jack that I said you could have a quick squizz at the boat." Kelly sits down putting her swollen ankles on a nearby stool.
Danny grins back, recalling the one movie made by both the incorrigible W.C Fields and the Fabulous Mae West, where they traded each others famous catch lines. The phrases "Come up and see me sometime" and "Go away kid, ya bother me." echo in his mind's eye as he realizes that he just received permission to go do what they actually come here for in the first place! Check out the ramshackle dock.
"Thanks. Thanks a bunch!" Danny says happily, not having to feign enthusiasm as he spots and reaches for a small pillow nearby and tucks it under her feet.
"Enjoy yer tea, and rest up. If Junior is anything like his Mum, yer gonna have yer hands full!" Danny smiles at Kelly with eyes full of laughter. He gives her a sweeping gentleman's bow and exits the office shack, still grinning.
Outside Danny sees Sal and the other guy are just opening the door to the dock's warehouse.
"Danny m' lad, yer timin' is perfect!" Danny almost sprains something patting himself on the back before jogging towards the couple at the dock.
"Oi! Hey there! Whatcha' doin? I heard yeh had a boat an' Ms. Kelly said oi could take a peek at it real quick-like. Haven't been on a boat in years. Hi there, yew mus' be Jack?" Danny finishes up breathlessly as he arrives.
Sal claps her hand over her mouth and tries not to gag, then switches to holding her nose and breathing through her mouth. "Somebody's sushi has gone off," she quips to Jack, waving Danny back from the stench.
Thumbing the flashlight on her phone, she peeks the phone and her head around the doorframe to look inside.
Danny recoils as he reaches the now-open doorway. The stench is almost visible to his fae-decended eyes.
"Oi yeh! THAT is so thick yew kin cut it wif' a knife. An' yew might have tew!" Danny agrees, waving his hand ineffectually in front of his face.
"I hope the dead whale isn't ON the boat. That'd be a real shame." He adds, still in wanna-see-a-boat character.
Kenneth looks up and winks, then just smiles, "I'mnae gonna say it. 'Tis tae easy, and besides, we both already ken." He takes the card, looks at it for only a second before slipping it into the pocket of his leather jacket.
"..and, what's more, apparently, ye'd nae have time for a body tae prove any claim I might have been making."
As Jack opens the door and the stench hits him, he's forced physically a step or two backwards and tries to blink away the tears. He nods at Sal's quip as she looks inside the building, before turning to the newcomer, Danny. Jack looks Danny up and down critically, before giving him a smile and head bob.
Inside the high level lights and skylights give enough vision although the fluorescent strip lighting would be essential to vanquish the shadows even during the current summer months. The far end of the industrial boathouse has open bay doors that lead from the concrete slipway directly into the river.
Around the place is various broken machine parts and boxes, looking like someone has had a good time here. "Bloody Hell. Guess old muggins here will have to clean this up." Jack exclaims; "That's what you get from helping Brackenthwaite out. What have they been doing, gutting sharks in there."
As far as boats, there's still a small on moored up however it's obvious someone has used a few small canoes or boats and taken them down the river.
There's some wrappers of crisps, snack food, sweets and take-aways to one side. Although completely separately are a few dozen jars of honey from Lindisfarne.
Danny's adrenaline must be up due to the character-acting, risk of getting caught, and excitement of (hopefully) solving another mystery. Because he essentially Sherlock Holmes'es the heck out of the now open and reeking boathouse.
"Ayup. Sumbody's been havin' a party in here. And they didn't invite me!" Danny drawls wryly as he notes,... well,... a lot about the state of the boathouse interior. Eyes watering but managing to ignore the worst of the animalistic smell, Danny walks in and makes a show of admiring the small boat.
"Cool, nice boat. Hey it looks like you usually have canoes here too? When your not busy you must have a blast!" Danny exclaims in accent, Still playing his dreamer, fun-loving, easily-impressed persona to the hilt.
Noting the stacks of Honey jars off to one side and the scattered trash he shakes his head with a wry smirk.
"Dey ate all deh junk food but left the honey. Kids, amirite?" Danny snorts in amusement.
Sal creeps into the boathouse, shining her phone light onto the various heaps and piles of refuse and broken machinery.
"This Brackenthwaite guy must be a really good friend of your Dad's to be allowed to trash your place, Jack. That, or he's got pictures on someone." she says stuffily, still holding her nose. The mess distracts somewhat from her astonishment at Danny's outlandish accent and makes her happy she painted him as her ex-boyfriend rather than a relative.
"How long have they been using your boathouse, to make this kind of mess?"
She pokes around through the refuse a bit, making a show of trying to straighten things a little while keeping her eyes open for anything unusual. More unusual.
Danny's words filter into Sal's brain as she pokes around, and she makes her way to the food litter.
Why did they leave the honey? she wonders, picking up two of the untouched jars of honey and examining them. Lindisfarne? Weren't the monks at the fair selling mead from Lindisfarne? Did they do anything during the fight?
But her memories of the battle at the park were all of shooting, dodging, and looking for her comrades. She has no clue if the monks did anything weird or not.
"Huh. Who doesn't like this stuff?" she wonders aloud, then turns towards Jack. "Catch, honey!" she grins, tossing the jar in her right hand to Jack while she quietly slips the left-hand jar into her jacket pocket.
Aghast Jack nearly fumbles the thrown jar of honey, ending up looking at the floor as Sal deftly slips the other one into her coat pocket. "Bloody Nora! I don't think me Da's gonna be too happy. They've only been using t' place a few days." He thinks; "Must've come in the evening after closing, 3 days ago... bloody hooligans."
He tries to avoid losing his lunch as he looks over the trashed warehouse. "At least they ain't ruined everything, as you say lad, we've some canoes for a quick skull up t' river." With care he inspects the canoes, to ensure no-one has wrecked them & finding them mostly water-tight looks back to Sal.
"Bloody Brackenthwaite and his dodgy shonky spiv cronies, makes it hard to do an honest days work." Jack bemoans softly to himself; pointed not thinking of any sort of compromising pictures of his old dad that Sal alluded to.
Laura smiles and enjoys the view as Kenneth walks out of the pub. He finds himself in the warm afternoon air as the breeze stirs deeply, a few different options before him. The card weighing in his pocket alongside his phone with his friends numbers on it.
Noting the smooth move, Danny winks at Sal as Jack moans.
"Yeh. Hard to get your own work done when you gotta clean up someone else mess. So whose this 'Brackenthwaite' fella? Cuz he sounds like a real 'weiner'?" Danny asks, semi-cleverly pronouncing the last word like an Oscar -Myer hotdog commercial.
Sal edges back out into the fresh air and takes a deep, cleansing breath while she tries to figure out "Bloody Nora," "shonky," and "spiv."
Deciding it doesn't matter and that she has the general gist of the situation, she calls back in to the fetid boathouse, "Yeah, who's Brackenthwaite and where can we find him? Danny can beat him up for you so your Dad will never trace it back to you. He hangs out in some pub right down the road, doesn't he?" She tries to remember what Jack said about his dad's hangout.
Danny blinks at Sal, then sounds bored, not bad-@$$.
"Aw, c'mon now. You KNOW Oi gave that up fer Lent. Oi Hadda cut back." Danny slurs grumpily.
"Oh, c'mon. This wouldn't be a random drunken beatdown. Look what the guy did to poor Jack's boathouse! This would be for Truth! For Justice!" Sal calls back from outside, where she's edging farther and farther from the noisesome mess.
"Fer the Halibut." Danny agrees, eyes beginning to water from the stench.
Danny shrugs as if giving in to Sal was a common occurrence. (It's not WRONG,...)
"Why not? Ah need the exercise. An' it's in a good cause. Helpin' out a mate' an' all." Danny smiles at Jack.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Kenneth throws back his drink and gives Laura a small peck, "We'll save the room in the back for next time..", he whispers with a wink, then heads out, his mind turning back to the serious matters at hand... And then, finally, as he sits on his bike, laughs at himself, "Aye, wanting tae keep moving only works when a body's decided where tae go next."
He sighs and pulls out his flip-phone, holding down the speed dial to ring Danny, "Aye, lad. Are ye done playing about, I've got a lead, and I'm think it may be best tae make a plan... wait, sorry, I said I wanted tae do the smart thing. Can ye put Sal on?"
He shakes his head a trifle sadly, and looks a bit worried at Sals' suggestion. " He's that old leather bloke down the pub that if you want summat, he knows where to find it. Or at least the lorry it can fall off the back of, for the right price."
He usually hangs around a few lads, my age. But the old geezer is a bit like me dad, a tough old coot who knows the right sort of people. When he's around here, he hangs around the Dawnay Arms just down t' road. Or if he's hanging out with his lads, in York, he's at The Green Tree."[/b] He looks worriedly to Danny and leans in; "You're not with her anymore and she still tries to get you to beat people up?"
The young man shakes his head slightly, any romantic thoughts taking a nervous step away; "Anyway, you don't have to do 'owt like that. Pa, will probably have a moan and then we'll get a new TV & I'll have to find a power washer."
"Well, I'm sure sorry about your boathouse, Jack, and about the work you'll need to do to clean it up. I guess any rebuild on that Fiat will have to wait. It's gonna take a decade for that stench to clear." Sal wrinkles her nose in disgust. "I guess we'll leave Brackenthwait alone if you're sure..."
"Hey, did you get that job?" She turns on Danny, a decidedly shrewish note in her voice as she points at the boathouse. "You could help out here..."
She breaks off as Danny's phone rings.
Danny blinks when Jack asks about his 'Breaking up' with Sal,...
'Yeah,... maybe next time a LITTLE planning ahead would be OK,...'
,...but then he just shrugs and mutters, "Aw yeh know how it is. Ah'm jes' a softie."
"Hey, did you get that job?" Sal turns on Danny, a decidedly shrewish note in her voice as she points at the boathouse. "You could help out here..."She breaks off as Danny's phone rings.
Danny jumps as he fumbles for his phone, his relief at the interruption not entirely faked.
Danny hears Kenneth's brogue before the phone is even all the way to his ear,
"Aye, lad. Are ye done playing about, I've got a lead, and I'm think it may be best tae make a plan... wait, sorry, I said I wanted tae do the smart thing. Can ye put Sal on?"
"Oi. Is gonna be one o' THOSE days izzit?" Danny rolls his eyes and holds out his phone towards Sal. "Is fer you. Ah think we need teh go." Danny says, waggling the phone.
Waving absentmindedly to Jack, Danny stomps back towards the car, muttering to himself. Mostly.
"Ah'm gonna go find me a nice QUIET gig. In a mosh pit."
"Hey!" Sal says brightly (and loudly) into the phone, giving the hapless Jack a wave as she starts after Danny. "I was just driving Danny around to try to find him a job. Wouldn't be surprised if he threw the interview so he doesn't have to do any real work. He still thinks he can be a musician..."
Once she's away from the fetid boathouse, she drops her voice. "Whew. OK, we're away from other people now. I'll put you on speaker once Danny and I get to the car."
"So, we found a boathouse where the Fomor holed up for 3 days before they rowed to the Festival. It's a mess. Really bad. Enough to gag a maggot."
"What's better is we have the name of the guy who borrowed the boathouse on behalf of the shonky spiv fish faces. He hangs out around here and at the Green Tree in York proper. Hold on a sec."
She swings into the driver's seat, taps the speaker button on the phone display, and sets it on the dash between her and Danny, waiting until the doors are closed before she speaks again. "OK, we're in the car and you're on speaker. I think we're probably done around here, unless we want to look for that Brackenthwaite guy in the bar here. Or we could return to York and maybe meet you at the Green Tree for a drink and look around... unless you have some other ideas?" She looks inquiringly at Danny and shrugs.