Lyle Langston gives Aziel a truly splendid smile. "A capital idea, Constable Charbonneau. I had almost forgotten that particular piece of information." He then turns to Mr Beakins, holding up the handkerchief they had recovered. "But to answer your question..."
The heron leans in close, examining the offered piece of cloth with its now mismatched eyes. Touching the handkerchief with its partly mechanical beak, the bird sniffs at it, as if trying to catch some trace of a scent. For a single moment comprehension seemed to dawn on its face, only for the heron to suddenly seize the rag, throw it down onto the floor, and then repeatedly stamp on it, screeching as it does so.
Rescuing the evidence from the fury of the bird, Lyle turned to the tiefling with an apologetic look on his face. "Unfortunately Mr Beakins' skillset is mostly limited to subduing those who I designate as threats. I have tried to teach him other tricks, but while he is certainly intelligent, he also has a most magnificent temper." Reaching out a hand, the former businessman attempted to soothe the bird. "Needless to say, he will not be helping us track down these criminals today."
When no one was looking, Eveline lightly brushed her hand against the wall from whence the bloody foot print came.
Try as she might, Eveline found no evidence of a secret door or other mundane means of egress.
Once Eveline was done, LeBrix took them back downstairs via the stairway they had come up. Rather than stopping at the first floor where they had entered, he continued down one level- the astute constables noticed that the stairs continued down below even this level- and exited onto a much more utilitarian hallway, clearly designed only for staff and not guests or even exalted government functionaries such as ambassadors and consuls.
The security chief led them through a warren of hallways not unlike the constables own office, with thin walls and panes of glass sectioning off different areas and affording little in the way of privacy. Eventually they came to an open area full of desks and brightly lit with magical lanterns. The atmosphere here was surprisingly upbeat, with a gaggle of men and women talking loudly and laughing over in what seemed to be a break area.
One of the men waved a coffee cup in vague salute as LeBrix approached and the staff members turned to look curiously at the constables. "Chief! Come have a cup of coffee and some breakfast!" Indeed, it looked as though someone had brought in food and drinks and the staff was enjoying it mightily.
The question of whether this was normal behavior was quickly answered by LeBrix's scowl. "What in the hells is going on here!?"
The man who had greeted LeBrix so casually stood up a little straighter and lowered his coffee cup and the jovial atmosphere died down a little. But only a little- the constables noticed that there were still smiles on the staff's faces in spite of LeBrix's clear irritation. "Um, breakfast? Sir. Just taking a quick break before getting to work."
"M'seur LeBrix...is this the staff to be questioned?" asked Uxui quietly. She then fixed her gaze on the coffee-cup wielding consular employee, failing to blink. Vishkanya didn't really need to do so.
Aziel accepted the mangled bit of evidence back with a moue of displeasure. "Very well. Try to contain it from contaminating whatever we find, then." She knew better than to tell him not to bring the horrid thing; that was an argument they'd had before, which, infuriatingly enough, she hadn't won.
Turning to Nedra, she nodded seriously. "That is an interesting thing to know. Merci, mademoiselle. Is there anything else you can tell us, or is there any of the other staff who served either of the men?"
Nedra shook her head. "I didn't, ma'am. The front desk can probably tell you better."
"M'seur LeBrix...is this the staff to be questioned?" asked Uxui quietly. She then fixed her gaze on the coffee-cup wielding consular employee, failing to blink. Vishkanya didn't really need to do so.
LeBrix nodded curtly. He gestured at one of the men- not the one who had greeted them. "That's Braden, there. You can use that office." He pointed at the closest office, currently empty. "I need to get to the bottom of this."
The security chief beckoned the man over. "Braden! These constables need to talk to you. The rest of you, somebody explain what's going on."
Aziel waited with strained patience while Lyle fulfilled their promises to the cabbie. "We didn't promise it would be today," she grumbled to his horrendous avian contraption.
One he re-emerged, presumably with matters attended to, Aziel hailed another cab to take them to the docks, her tail swishing eagerly.
***
Once they reached the docks, Aziel took a quick look across the piers for anything suspicious, or for a chance sighting of the boat or persons they were looking for.
"M'sieur Sarken, I'm Constable Uxui Zerpina. This way please. I'll need the other staff in an orderly fashion outside this office," she called to the room, "A secretary by the name of Tia next, if you please, and if you can mark your names on a sheet for us with name and consular position." She placed a writing board near the door.
The vishkanya bowed to staff and then indicated with one sweep of the hand, both the office and Braden. Her smile was polite, but professional.
Before leaving Lyle will approach the clerk that had greeted them earlier. He will thank her for the assistance she has provided, but also enquire about payment for their friend, Jack Byron. He will suggest that they take it out of Doctor von Recklinghausen's security deposit, if they have one.
The former businessman will explain the situation, but also greatly exaggerate the amount of time and effort that the cab driver has undertaken today, as well as the cost of the fare.
"So as you can see, Mr Byron clearly deserves to be compensated for the work he has done today." Lyle said as he stroked his moustache. "For a fine establishment such as yours, 5 gold pieces and a free drink would be a trivial sum. I think it would be the responsible thing to do.
If Lyle fails to convince the clerk, he will leave in something of a huff, joining back up with Aziel outside and travel with her to the waterfront.
"M'sieur Sarken, I'm Constable Uxui Zerpina. This way please. I'll need the other staff in an orderly fashion outside this office," she called to the room, "A secretary by the name of Tia next, if you please, and if you can mark your names on a sheet for us with name and consular position." She placed a writing board near the door.
The vishkanya bowed to staff and then indicated with one sweep of the hand, both the office and Braden. Her smile was polite, but professional.
Sarken smiled at Uxui, bringing his cup of coffee with him. "Of course, constable. Would you like a cup?" He gestured at a box of pastries and another of chocolates on the desk. "Some breakfast?"
"So as you can see, Mr Byron clearly deserves to be compensated for the work he has done today." Lyle said as he stroked his moustache. "For a fine establishment such as yours, 5 gold pieces and a free drink would be a trivial sum. I think it would be the responsible thing to do.
If Lyle fails to convince the clerk, he will leave in something of a huff, joining back up with Aziel outside and travel with her to the waterfront.
The clerk is accomodating and apologetic, but insists she doesn't have the authority to approve such an arrangement and suggests that Lyle come back later to talk to the general manager. Lyle left in something of a huff and the constables took another cab to the docks.
Once they reached the docks, Aziel took a quick look across the piers for anything suspicious, or for a chance sighting of the boat or persons they were looking for.
Aziel didn't spot anything out of the ordinary. The docks looked like their usual bustling, just this side of chaotic selves. The dockmaster's office overlooked the busy docks, a blocky, utilitarian building clearly built for work, not ornament. Flashing their RHC badges got them past the clerks at the front door and directions to the records room.
A few minutes later the constables were standing before the records clerks in a vast room of thousands of shelves and drawers full of charts, deeds, and other records. Though there were dozens of people there, looking over papers of one sort or another, the room was so big and stuffed with records that it was easy to feel like they were the only ones in the records warehouse. One of the clerks turned to them as the person she'd been helping walked away with directions to their records in hand. "How may I help you, sir? Ma'am?"
Sarken smiled at Uxui, bringing his cup of coffee with him. "Of course, constable. Would you like a cup?" He gestured at a box of pastries and another of chocolates on the desk. "Some breakfast?"
"Oh, no, thank you. None for myself. We were wondering if you could recount the day's exciting events in your own words. Please, don't spare the details."
Uxui's notepad appears in her hand, along with a pen. "Thank you, we've eaten."
Lyle approaches the clerk, greeting her with a smile, a handshake, and a magically conjured business card.
"A fine day to you, miss. I am Constable Langston, and this here is Constable Charbonneau. We are currently conducting an investigation on behalf of the Royal Homeland Constabulary. If you wouldn't mind, could you tell us everything you know about a certain canal barge, including its last known location?"
Lyle Langston will repeat all the necessary details recorded on the deed of ownership the two of them found in the alleyway, having conveniently memorised them before he handed the document over to Officer Bellastair
Braden nodded and took another sip of coffee. "You're missing out, but OK." He looked back over his shoulder at the food for a moment, nodding at the crowd currently being dressed down by Security Chief LeBrix. "Well, this morning Nilasa said she wanted to bring breakfast for us. She's a..." Braden frowned. "Um. I guess she was a great person."
He shook his head, his smile slipping a little. "Or was she? I guess... I guess she was just using me to get into the consulate?" The young man looked at the pair of female constables. "She must have liked me a little, right? You don't think the whole thing was a lie, do you?" Braden shook his head. "I don't think the whole thing could have been. That's just..." He sighed and took a sip of coffee. "I don't know, I guess."
"Um." Braden cleared his throat and shook his head again. "I'm sorry, it's just been a lot to take in." He took a sip of coffee. "Let me start over." His smile had definitely slipped and he looked more thoughtful now than happy.
"Nilasa brought in pastries and brigadeiros and coffee for us this morning. Everybody liked her- she got along well with everyone. I guess at some point she slipped away from us while we were eating and talking." Given the way the group had been clustered around the food and talking when LeBrix brought them down here, that probably hadn't been difficult. "I don't really know what happened. I never even noticed that she was gone until the alarm went up, and by then she was already dead."
His thoughtful look was turning sad now, like he was on the verge of tears.
The clerk nodded, writing down everything Lyle had said. "This will take a few minutes." She rang a bell behind the counter and handed the slip of paper she'd written the details down on to a young man who appeared from a door into the back. "You can have a seat, constables. I'll let you know when we have the information for you."
There were some typically uncomfortable government waiting room chairs for the two constables to sit in, along with a couple of other people who also seemed to be waiting for information.
Aziel fumed impatiently, tailtip lashing. "I had thought they would simply check the harbormaster's logbook. Alors! If this takes more than ten minutes, I will go out and search myself! How well could a damned barge hide?" She considered this for a moment, then turned a smile on Lyle. "But there is no reason for us both to sit here flowering like potted plants. You stay, and I will go look."
"These pastries?" says Uxui. "Has it occurred to you they may be poisoned or contain a narcotic? LeBrix, these should be retained as evidence."
Lyle was in the process of sitting down in the waiting room chair when Aziel suddenly offered to go search the harbour. "Good luck and good hunting, Constable Charbonneau." He said as he sprang back up onto his feet. "Rest assured that I will relentless in my efforts here, and will not stop until I obtain the information we came for."
The entrepreneur waited for Aziel to leave his sight, and then immediately sat back down, planting his feet on a nearby coffee table. He sighed in relief, and then turned to face his animal companion.
"Would it be prejudiced to describe her as having a fiery temper?" He asked, speaking to the blue-feathered heron standing next to him. Mr Beakins just gave him an odd look. "I suppose it wouldn't."
"These pastries?" says Uxui. "Has it occurred to you they may be poisoned or contain a narcotic? LeBrix, these should be retained as evidence."
At first, Eveline believes that Uxui might be joking. But a moment later, she is casting a spell to detect magical signatures on the pastries and other food stuffs.
LeBrix looked over when Uxui opened the office door to shout at him that the pastries might be evidence. After a quick moment of looking surprised and confused, the security chief efficiently retrieved the pastries, chocolates, and coffee and brought them into the interview room. The staff, not looking as sufficiently chagrined as one might expect after having been yelled at by a superior, continued milling around and chatting even after he took their food and coffee away.
"Poisoned? None of these people look sick to me." LeBrix shot Braden a steely look that Nilasa's former boyfriend returned with a shrug and a smile. "I feel fine. Great, in fact."
Eveline found no trace of magic on the pastries, chocolates, or coffee, but as she inspected the packages she found that the brigadeiros- a popular confection named after the brigadier general who invented them, this confection consists of a gooey ball of chocolate covered in granulated chocolate, castor sugar, or grated coconut- had a stamp on the bottom of the box for someplace called The Thinking Man's Tavern, with an address in Bosum Strand.
Aziel, tired of waiting, left to go search the docks. Unfortunately, the bustling docks were full of cargo ships and barges of various sizes and makes and destinations and she, no Docker or sailor of any stripe, found it nearly impossible to parse. There were just too many things going on all once once and finding one barge in that maelstrom of activity was like finding a needle in a haystack.
Lyle waited patiently for about 20 minutes before going back up to the clerk. Fortuitously, the same young man who had left with the details was just coming back as Lyle walked up. The clerk smiled at Lyle and looked down at the form she had been handed. "Here you are, constable." The registration information she gave Lyle told him that the barge was primarily utilized up and down the Stanfield canal and in Parity Lake rather than shuttling around Bosum Strand or on the Stray River.
Aziel stomped about the docks a bit, increasingly frustrated and smoking like a chimney. Who knew the blasted docks would be so hard to navigate?! Like any soldier, she'd spent time on ships, but she'd never been too familiar with them. But she did spot a few familiar faces as she stalked through some parts of the docks.
Jinmey the Knife, Bustar Keefan, Yerasol Lady Smee. Just a few of the names she recalled from the bullpen, where she'd seen them be brought in by beat officers; part of Lorcan Kell's thieves' guild.
She paused at the end of the docks to light another cigarette, and keep an eye on those areas. The Kells were known for industrial smuggling. Could they have something to do with this matter?
Hard to say, when she wasn't sure what "this matter" bloody was.
She took note of what she saw, and began to loop back towards the office, hoping that Lyle's patience had paid off better than her lack of it.
"I swear, if they weren't poisoned, they certainly seem borrachita," grumbles Uxui to Eveline.
"I swear, if they weren't poisoned, they certainly seem borrachita," grumbles Uxui to Eveline.
"Well, if nothing else, they were certainly distracted. I did however find something a bit more mundane. These brigadeiros come from a place called the Thinking Man's Tavern, over in the Bosun Strand."
"The Thinking Man's Tavern is a bit infamous for being the stomping grounds of The Professors. They are a small gang of layabouts who coast on their parents money so they can attend the university for as long as possible. Some of them up to a decade or more. They have weekly meetings there so they can collaborate, share books, and compare notes on a range of cross-disciplines.
"But really it's an excuse for them to get drunk and hit on young women, while going on-and-on about whatever fey-weed-fueled pipe dream has them excited that week."
Lyle Langston accepted the form with a gracious nod. Though outwardly he appeared pleased, inwardly he was slightly concerned. It was good that they wouldn't have to search the whole harbour, but Parity Lake and the Stanfield Canal combined were hardly a small area.
"Thank you, miss!" He said, tipping his top hat in her direction. "The Royal Homeland Constabulary is grateful for your most timely assistance in this matter. However, I hope you will forgive me for asking if you have any further information that might narrow down the search area for us? Depending on the circumstances, finding this barge quickly could save many lives."
And also save myself a great deal of unnecessary walking. The man privately thought to himself.
After obtaining as much information as he could from the clerk, Lyle exited the dock master's office with his animal companion at his side. Not knowing which way Aziel had gone, the former businessman decided to patiently wait in front of the office until his partner returned.
"Eveline, what do you say we leave the interviews for another time? We're running into resistance and dead ends at the Embassy," says Uxui quietly. "Diego?"
"Dear Staff," says Uxui with a smile, "I think that in the interests of time, I'd like to have written statements from you regarding the suspect and your day today. Our time is short and so is yours. We'll be back tomorrow to pick them up."
Aziel nodded at what Lyle told her, but was clearly disappointed that the barge wasn't present, preferably with their suspects close at hand and ready to arrest. She mentioned the thieves she'd seen to Lyle, and her vague suspicions about industrial smuggling.
"A barge could be used to smuggle something from the embassy... alors, je ne sais pas. It is all just speculation." She scowled, her tail lashing far enough to slap at the legs of innocent passers-by. She met their looks with a flat stare of her own, her frustration making her belligerent.
"Bah. If we must search the canal for this boat, we should bring the others with us. Let it be done sooner." She sighed, her tail slowing to a stop. "We can send a runner to the embassy, tell the others where we are going. Maybe the errand boy will return with news of how they fare. Otherwise, we will be forced to speak with the dock workers and ask about for this boat - though I do not think we should tip off the Kell guild, in case they are involved."
"My only other idea is to check the closest healer, and see if our wounded "officer" has come in for treatment," she grumped, flicking the butt of her cigarette into the harbor.
Security Chief LeBrix protests. "You are going to take the body, at least! We can't store a corpse in our basement indefinitely!" When the constables relent, he leads them to a cold kitchen larder otherwise dominated by slabs of meat and items that need to remain cool. Nilasa Hume's body lay under a sheet on a hastily vacated countertop.
he recalls that she always wore a yellow bird pendant, which is not present.
The clerk shook her head. "I'm sorry, constable, that's all I know."
"If you don't mind, M'sieur LeBrix, we'd like to view the body privately. We'll be on our way with it soon enough."
Once LeBrix has vacated the room, she briskly and efficiently searches the corpse.
"Out on bail--wonder if her boyfriend or...hm." She views the bail bond with a jaundiced eye.
She pats down the body further. "Potion vial. Eveline? Oh, and I'm no chirurgeon, but there's a funny wound on her scalp. "
Uxui turned to Aziel and Lyle, rubbing her arms a bit after a brief time in the morgue, checking in the body. Vishkanya weren't too fond of the cold.
"There were all sorts of oddities at the Consulate; the body has an unexplained scalp wound, there was something magical in a corner that Eveline couldn't figure out; the staff were all acting eerily mellow while eating snacks that the suspect had provided--I still think they were all drugged on opium extracts or the like--and we have a bail bond. That's just the start of it," said Zerpina, finding a bit of invisible dirt under one glittering nail. "We need analysis of a potion vial, and perhaps need to shake down black market magic dealers. This is a damned thicket."
..."We need analysis of a potion vial, and perhaps need to shake down black market magic dealers. This is a damned thicket."
"It seems that Nilasa's sported wounds that were recently healed through some magical means. I also noted blue flakes in the corner of her eyes. A side effect of having recently imbibed an invisibility potion.
"I found no signs that NIlasa herself was capable of casting spells, and her body showed no signs of a flying potion. It's possible she used a magical item that gave her flight, but I didn't find any. I wouldn't rule out tampering with the body. A magical object that could make one fly would be worth a lot of money to the right people.
"Although, the ability of flight itself could be more than tempting in its own right. Bottom line, I believe someone here stole something from the body.
"I spoke to her boyfriend, Braden, and he claimed that Nilasa normally wears a yellow bird pendant. And I did not see one on her."
Eveline then turns to Uxui who still has the potion vial in her hand.
"Ah, right, almost forgot. Let me analyze that for a moment."
"If she could not fly, maybe someone threw her," Aziel scoffed.
She recounted what she and Lyle had found - the deed in the alley, the blood, the tossed room and oily cloth at House of Blue Birds, and "Officer Porter" and his wound - adding in her vague surmise about the smuggling thieves' guild at the docks.
"Chasing that barge will be a huge waste of time," she grumped, her impatience speaking louder than words. "Let us go through the records we can find on Nilasa, and head to the tavern this evening. If we all go together, we may apply our skills in different ways, and find something the others missed." She brightened marginally at the idea of canvassing the tavern; that was the kind of work she enjoyed.
The constables head to the Parity Lake police station to check on Nilasa Hume's records. After more time waiting for bureaucrats to do their job, the constables receive a thin file containing information about her arrest and background. Details are sparse, but they include her last few known residences, a list of accomplices and their whereabouts, and details of her various arrests. Of particular interest is her latest arrest, when she was picked up in a raid on a known den of criminals just a week ago. She was charged with Supporting Criminal Activities and told to appear in court a few days from now.
Her bail was paid by Heward Sechim, whose address is listed- he apparently lives at Sechim’s Alkahest & Etchings, a factory in the Parity Lake area that produces powerful acids. The document further notes that she was picked up with two men—Ford Sorghum and Travis Starter, both of whom are currently serving a term for parole violation, locked up in a floating prison in Flint Bay called the Goodson Estuarial Reformatory.
By now it was early evening, the sun just beginning to set as the constables considered their next move.
Aziel clicked her tongue, regarding the last document in the file before setting them down. "Heward Sechim. An odd name to be associated with a criminal...? He's practically a hero of the factory workers. But Nilasa... didn't she go to the Thinking Man's Tavern? He is known to go there too, a few times a week. I think that should be our next stop."
"Sorghum and Starter. Sound like ingredients for bread," jokes Uxui. "Well, sounds like a name like The Thinking Man's tavern would be just the place to discuss some sort of worker's socialist revolt. Naturally, Diego and I are all for that...er...in principle. I'd like to follow up with these bread ingredients as well. To the Tavern first, though."
"Well I certainly won't say no to a stiff drink at The Thinking Man." Lyle said as he stroked at the grey hairs of his mustache. "But if we are looking for someone who has recently bought or sold items of a magical nature, perhaps it would be beneficial for me to pose as a trader of such goods? It could draw out one of our suspects, assuming they are present."
With a flick of his wrist the entrepreneur was suddenly holding a small vial of water in his left hand. Speaking the command word to activate his magical gloves the constable had the liquid inside of the glass vial rapidly shift between a dozen different colors. He then made another gesture, and just like that the vial was gone. Clearly he knew how to play the part.
"But perhaps I am overthinking this." Lyle said as he adjusted his glasses. "Whatever our stratagem, I agree that the tavern should be the next stop on our journey."
The Thinking Man’s Tavern was a few streets off from the main docks of Bosum Strand, a weathered building whose exterior was only memorable for the cobbled-together statue that stood by its entrance, an assortment of flotsam and jetsam assembled into the shape of a sitting man deep in thought.
It was still early, but the dinner hour was coming on and the tavern was already doing a brisk business. As the group entered (and Lyle, separately), they were greeted by the familiar, friendly hustle and bustle of a well liked tavern. People seemed happy enough, no one was too drunk yet, and the waitresses were smiling as they bantered or carried trays.
It looked like there were a few distinct sections to the tavern's public areas:
* The patio outside the front door, with seating for ten to enjoy the night air and contemplate the Thinking Man statue.
* The common room they'd entered through, with tables to seat sixty on the ground floor, and another forty on an upstairs balcony. Signs indicated each floor has a lavatory with plumbing.
* A separate bar off to one side behind a half railing, with stools for ten and tables for an additional thirty.
* A sign over a door on the other side of the common room declared there was also a game room on the ground floor, which seated thirty; there was a pool table and a storage closet that holds various game supplies.
* A sign over an open doorway at the top of the stairs said "The Riot Room," and led to a small dining space on the uppermost floor, but its chairs were all already claimed by writers, artists, and philosophers who just wanted to get away from the hubbub to sit in a dormer window, drink, and scribe, sketch, or share their latest thoughts.
Just as the main group entered the tavern, the whole place shook from one of the little temblors that have been wracking the city. Patrons freaked out as glasses toppled off tables and cracked on the floor. An orc sailor jumped up and shouted "Earthquake!" but the tremor stopped almost before he could get the whole word out. His friends teased him as he sat back down.
People seemed momentarily nervous until a young man with glasses and his hair pulled back into a long ponytail spoke up from a table by the bar, loud enough for the whole place to hear. "Don’t listen to the porcine panic. Flint has been geologically stable since it was founded. We could no sooner have an earthquake than a blizzard! It was probably just the ground settling." He surveyed the reaction to his declaration for a few moments before returning to the knot of other young people sitting at his table and nearby tables who were turned to listen to him. Seemingly reassured by the man's erudite explanation, the rest of the clientele returned to their drinks and food.
"I will head to the riot room," Aziel informed the others. She glanced at Diego. "It will be full of hot air. You should come with me - fight fire with fire," she grinned.
[b]"Far be it from me to leave your sails windless, then,"[b] Diego replied, still mulling over the details of the investigation in his head. The Danoran enclave had been an ... experience, to say the least. The pensive half-orc had his mind occupied with the thoughts of the investigation and had grown a quiet distance as his sharp mind tried to parse what information he could.
His eyes had narrowed a touch at the 'porcine' comment - he was no stranger to racism and nationalism but it was always a struggle to see it so unabashedly and casually slipped into conversation.
The Berian was also not pleased with the mention of Sechim. One of the so-called 'good' venture capitalists, hah! One robber baron decides to not actively kill his workers and suddenly he's elevated to a hero of The People. In Ber he would have faced a much different fate, that was for sure.
Keeping close to Aziel's tail, Diego headed on in to the Thinking Man, prepared to figure out why a factory owner would bail out a thief.
Not trusting his animal companion to be well behaved in such a busy environment, Lyle pulled out a piece of rope from his pack. He attached it to Mr Beakins' harness, and then attached the rest of it to a nearby post. He did make sure to leave a little bit of food and water for the bird, though the constable wasn't sure how long that would keep him occupied.
Stepping into the Thinking Man's Tavern, the former businessman's first instinct was to explore the game room. But knowing that the evidence they were searching for was the pastries obtained by Nilasa, he instead approached the bar.
As he sat down and ordered himself a drink, Lyle smiled at the waitress serving him. "The service here is most excellent, miss. But I've heard that the desserts here are particularly scrumptious. A friend recommended the brigadeiros, would it be possible for me to try one?
The serving staff was an eclectic mix when it came to age, build, and race, but they all had a few things in common. They were all women, and every one had a look in her eye that said she was more than ready to put a cheeky patron in his place. Lyle's waitress was older than most, with dark, leathery skin and long, graying hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. But she had a ready smile for the smooth talker and looked spry enough to keep serving well into the morning hours.
"Oh, Miss, is it? Well, you won't get any freebies from me with a silver tongue, sweetie." She grinned at Lyle and gave him a wink that said maybe he would if he kept it up. "You've got a sweet tooth, eh? Well, I can get you a brigadeiro to go with your drink, sure. You want anything else to eat, hon?"
If there was anything out of the ordinary with a patron asking for brigadeiros, she didn't show it.