Chapter IV

Katya

"Any luck lifting any prints?" Katya asked, but she knew it was in vain. Sem's shake confirmed. They had taken the piece of cold iron, the cutlery, even the glass and plate, and had dusted the table. And of course even then, nothing distinctive had come off that.

Sem released a long sigh. "I miss the old days, where fingerprints actually worked. Too many people these days that lose their entire identity to the Fae. Makes them a nightmare to track. Did you know some people don't even leave functioning DNA behind nowadays? It's disgusting, boss. Disgusting."

"I heard. Anne complained about that a few times." Katya was happy Anne had left for reporting then sleeping, because otherwise she could already imagine the diatribe that would have followed. "The Carver's one of them, according to her. No name, no usable fingerprints, same for DNA, blurry footage, and tons of locals could swear they know him from somewhere, but they never manage to figure out from what."

"Like you, boss?" She could hear people fall silent nearby. Special Ops knew when to be quiet and eavesdrop. Sem glared at the others, then looked back at her. "He said that name as if it's yours, as if he knows you. But that's not your legal name, isn't it?"

"Correct." She sat down and leaned back in her chair. "My name is a diminutive, but it's the actual name my parents gave me. Nobody uses the full version unless they're incredibly old-fashioned, or if they're teasing me. And it felt familiar, the way he addressed me. His face too. I know him, but I don't know from what, or when."

She tapped the cold iron. "Since he's not Fae, it means he either lost or sold his identity to one. Given how careful he is, and how he loathes them, I'm guessing he sold it to a Broker. Must have been a hell of a deal."

"Hell of a deal indeed. Normally those things fail, but this really is the whole package. The kind of thing some folks would practically sell their souls for. But it's weird, boss. Why would a guy do that, when he hates and distrusts all Fae? It just doesn't add up."

Katya hated to admit it, but Sem had a good point there. It didn't make any sense. But he showed no signs of being tied to a story, neither his own or another's. Just another frustrating mystery.

Everyone sighed, then chuckled. Katya shrugged and turned away from the board. "It doesn't matter. We need to use him, just like how he wants to use us. Keep an eye on him. Treat him with utter distrust. And don't let anyone catch on that we're trying to make a deal with him. You say a word outside this room, both the Carver and the Deacon will find out."

He knew what they had found, beyond a doubt. That she did manage to tell from their brief conversation. That meant he had at least one source on the inside. And worse, he had let her catch on to that deliberately. She felt horribly manipulated by him. Again. Again? Her eyes narrowed as she chased that thought, but it escaped her.

Carver

He should have eaten the rest of the pie slices. It had been a waste of money to walk away at that point, and now he had to suppress the urge to buy something else.

But it had simply been too good an experience to see Katya again, and he had caught himself slipping. That had left him with little choice but to make an exit. He should mentally prepare himself for next time.

His errands brought him all over the area, easily getting in his steps today. All the while, he caught surveillance keeping an eye on him. Someone following him for a while, a drone hovering nearby, public security cameras keeping him in sight. Most of it was the cops, but it did seem as if the Reverend had also sent people to keep an eye on him.

He was mostly flattered at the excessive attention, studying him, trying to figure him out. It didn't stop him from secretly making contact with his alternative sources, which was why it didn't really annoy him. But it also was utterly ridiculous that he drew everyone's attention all of a sudden.

They were using him as a playing card. That part actually pissed him off. Especially since he wasn't sure of the rules yet.

Speaking of being toyed with, his fake trip led him by the docks, which unfortunately came with yet another interested party. Two mafia soldato somehow recognised him and came up with big grins on their faces. "Pinch me, is that the Carver? Come here, you. The boss would like a word."

"I don't." As he turned to move on, one stepped in front of him. He sighed. "I'm under surveillance. You harass me here, you're going to draw attention from the police. So step aside please."

He could see the signs. One wouldn't back down. With a sigh, he put on a glove. Utterly unaware of the meaning, the one man put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "I won't repeat myself again. Madrina Sartori wants a word, so you go speak with her. If you don't-"

Carver's left hand shot forward, latching itself around the man's throat, draining all the power out of his victim. While hands feebly clawed at his, he looked at the other, letting his anger show on his face. "Tell your Madrina that next time she sends a Fae to intimidate me, I'm not going to only use a cold iron glove."

He squeezed a bit harder, feeling the man's energy reduce as he struggled in vain, Carver's grip draining the life out of him. The other admitted defeat. "Okay, okay! I'll let her know! Jesus!" That seemed sincere. Good.

When he let go, the man immediately fell to his feet, coughing and wheezing. Way too easy. A typical example of a person clinging onto their story too much, leaving him incredibly vulnerable to anti-fae weaponry.

As the other lifted up his comrade, supporting him, Carver held out a hand. "One thing. Please tell your boss that I refuse to get involved in your war. I'm a customer, not an accomplice. I don't care who helps me gets my goods, as long as someone does."

A nod and off he went. With a sigh, Carver walked away, before even more curious eyes decided to ruin his day. It was bad enough already without both the mother and the father of local crime trying to involve him in his business.

Katya

Just a few hours to go over the paperwork, that's all she really wanted. But no, in came Sem, forty minutes into her parsing shipment documents. "Boss, Carver got into a fight with some mobsters over at the docks. Took one down fast and sent them packing."

She could already feel a headache coming on. Perhaps she should get her blood pressure checked out. As she rubbed her eyes, she sighed. "What the fuck is he up to! And sent them packing? How? He's normal, what did he do, throw a pizza Hawaii at them??"

A quick grin was all her frustrated quip earned her. "Anti-Fae weapon, probably. The drone didn't get a good shot of it, but it looked similar to those self-defence gloves he sells, lined with silver and iron."

"Great. So Sartori has Fae working for her. I mean, obviously, it's an easy Story for them to build. But it surprises me she'd put them to work so close to Balkanville. Even the children there go around with cold iron knuckles at hand." She wished she was exaggerating, but as several cops could attest to, the kids knew how to use those against any threat.

Sem's eyes shot down towards her pockets. Guilty as charged. Katya too owned several of those tools. All of her Special Ops was armed with counter measures against the supernatural. And cheap as her superiors were, a lot of them were confiscated goods. It wouldn't surprise her if most of their stuff originated from the Carver.

"So. Did we happen to catch any of the conversation, or just him bullying someone who thought joining the mafia would make for a good story?"

"The audio is rough, tech is working on it. He called himself a customer, that we did catch already. Oh, and I think he already did his business. Probably at or just before the mall, because after that his gait became a bit more leisure."

So he did have a secondary source, most likely. They had hoped to catch on to who it was, put pressure on him to flip him. At least they had a hunch now.

No, this wouldn't work. They couldn't put all their bets on one horse. "Okay, keep up surveillance, but keep it subtle. Investigate the mall, but don't spend too much manpower on that. We need to focus on the Deacon. Let's find out who is leaking the details of the bust, because it's too much to all be by his order. And get extra eyes on Sartori's warehouses. Chances are she'll also get ready for war."

"Got it, boss! Don't work too late!" With that, he rushed off. As if he wasn't also going to put in overtime. The only time they got to go out during this kind of days, was when they were doing stakeouts.

She missed it. Maybe she should find a nice bar to go to. A shame Anne was sick, otherwise they could have gotten a quick drink. But for now, her paperwork called for her.

Half an hour later, one of her officers brought in a pizza Hawaii for dinner. Given the guy's grin, everyone already knew of her outburst from before. She grinned in turn. There were worse things to never get to live down.