Office of Nick Bartamian, Private Dick, The Arms Hotel Room 315, Saturday Afternoon

[gunslingerpose]

There was something to be said, Nick noted as he flipped through his notes on the case he'd been trying to get to the bottom of for the past several months, for criminals who left a neat and tidy paper trail for him to follow. They made his job so damn much easier, after all. Unfortunately for Nick, known as The Gorgon to anyone who had the misfortune of being on the wrong end of his investigations, the one that he was currently trying to track down was smarter than that.

Because of course she was. Leave it to Nick to try to bring in an opium queen with a brain in her head. He had a few leads, some more interesting than others, one of which had left his arm in a sling a couple weeks back in an attempt to dissuade him from the case, only making him more hell-bent on cracking it.

The Gorgon hated criminals. He hated cases that threatened to drag on until his bills were past due even more. But most of all, he hated that he couldn't get Dokkaebi and her damn opium empire off of Fandom's streets once and for all. What he needed right about now was a case. Something to put a few more dollars in his pocket, to tide him over until he had something concrete to work with, here.

Wouldn't THAT be the day.

[Open! With mild AFK warning for a little of the afternoon, because of course.]

Comments

[gunslingerpose]

"I've got two or three, if it comes to that," Nick replied, nodding as he gave that I.D. a thorough looking over. He saw enough trouble types on a daily basis, he was hardly going to take anyone with a gun like that at their word without a healthy dose of skepticism thrown in for good measure. "What sort of info are you in the market for tonight, pray tell?"

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

"Hitters," Dinah said, looking him over, and liking what she saw. "A dame whose stage name was the Black Canary was offed back in Gotham. Word was, an out-of-towner pulled the trigger. Maybe at the request of the local mob, maybe not. Apparently she had a lot of enemies, and one of them got lucky... but not for her."

Of course this wasn't the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, but it'd do.

[gunslingerpose]

The Gorgon knew better than to take even another PI at her word around here. He took her story with a grain of salt, gave a little nod of his head, and then reached into his jacket breast pocket for a little black leather-bound notebook that he carried with him at all times.

"I have a list of a few names, people who have done time. People who they're still huntin' down. The ones you don't want to get messed up with, and the ones that might get you on the right track. Can probably scratch off the ones working for a local boss around here, at least. Can't imagine why they'd have interest in some songbird from out of town, enemies or no."

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

"Be good to know who to avoid anyway," Dinah agreed, tapping her lips. "I don't have a lot of time on this. Tick-tock. Just 'til the end of the weekend." She tilted her head. "Anything I can do to help you out in return?"

[gunslingerpose]

"I'm not completely certain there is," Nick noted, shaking his head. "I have no business in Gotham as far as I'm aware, and unless you have dirt on Dokkaebi, you probably don't have much I can really put to use."

Which was a sin and shame, because he really really wanted to be done with Lady D.

"But what I'm gonna do is share what I know anyway. Maybe call in a favor sometime."

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

"Who's this Dokkaebi?" Dinah asked, intrigued. "Not a name I've run into before... and if you need a favor?" Dinah couldn't resist, and had to lean in close. "All you have to do is whistle. I'm your girl."

[gunslingerpose]

"Dokkaebi. Lady D. The queen of opium in these parts. She's got a monopoly on the dealing of it, and I've been trying to get her off the streets for months. She's a slippery one, but unless this Canary of yours had anything to do with dope, I can't see her taking an interest."

He drummed his fingers on the top of his desk, and then reached for a pen and a piece of scrap paper. He'd thank Ms. Lance not to mention that he was using the back of a bill marked 'past due' to write down the names and, where he could, the addresses of the hit men he knew of. Better in her hands than his.

Better in anyone's hands but his.

"Whistle, hm? With any luck you won't be out of earshot."

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

"With any luck at all." Dinah tucked the bill (and oh, how she knew about those dunning notice) in her bra, fast as a flasher at a Sunday picnic, then slid off Nick's desk. "Be seeing you, Bartamian."

[gunslingerpose]

"Watch your back out there, Lance. I'll be too busy watching my own, but I'll keep an ear open."

A beat, and then he was smirking after her.

"Just a whistle away."