Budding Blooms
“Detective, you gotta help me!”
The slam of the door and the wild jingling of the bell had Carmen’s ears standing up. Standing in the doorway was an angel of a kalon. Plush cream fur that looked like it would be soft and fluffy to the touch. An azure dress with black trim and tassels swinging from the skirt; a colour that matched her worried eyes. A pearl headband matching the long pearl necklace that hung around her neck, a blue feather sprouting from the top. Elegant black gloves that reached up past her elbows. And last but not least, little black shoes with a small heel. Carmen felt underdressed in her hat and trench, though it was perfectly suitable attire for the business she ran.
“First of all, not a detective, doll. I’m a shamus. Private eye. It’s right on the door.” Carmen adjusted the brim of her fedora, revealing her dazzling red gaze framed by thick lashes.
“Oh… you’re a woman?”
“Yeah. What of it?”
“Nothing! I was just expecting a fella.” The sweet, innocent tone carried no judgement whatsoever. A little awe, perhaps. Was the other kalon impressed? It wasn’t something Carmen saw very often when her gender was brought into the light. “You’ve got a low voice for a gal. It suits you.”
Carmen chuckled, the chair she was seated in giving a small groan as she adjusted her posture. “You barely know me, kitten.”
“I have a feeling that’s going to change.”
Is she… flirting with me? Her poise, the way this dame was batting her eyelashes at Carmen… it sent shivers down her spine, in a good way. No, no, she’s probably just being friendly. That sort of thing is completely taboo. Out of the question. Forget it, Carm. If she found out about you, she’d rat you to the fuzz in a second. “Let’s cut to the chase, doll. What has you running in here like your tail’s on fire in the middle of the night?”
“Oh, I’m sorry if it’s late for you!” The gal sounded completely serious - Carmen had to wonder at how clueless she really was.
“I’m a gumshoe, kitten. I work odd hours. No sweat off my back. Now, what’s got you in a tizzy?”
“I just - I was walking home from the jazz club - you know, the one on forty-second and third. I’m a singer there, you know - I work late nights.”
“You’re the canary at Ragtime?”
“You know the place?”
“Of course I do! Just around the block. I go there to celebrate after I solve a case. Or just to relax - got some great jazz.”
A smile lit up the pale kalon’s face, though her gaze remained troubled and fearful.
“Oh, sorry, go on, doll.”
“Anyway, I went out for a smoke after my first set, and I saw something terrible!” Though her eyes never left Carmen, her paws were busy fiddling with the pearls of her necklace. A nervous habit, Carmen assumed. She noticed those kinds of things. “Well - it was - I saw a mac stabbing some poor sap out back in the alley!”
“Back-alley harlem sunset… happens too often.” Carmen’s claws clacked against each other as she jotted down some notes. Stabbing on forty-second and third, out back of the Ragtime jazz club.
“Trouble is… he saw me too. Came running after me with that big ol’ knife of his. I cheesed it! Hightailed it back into the club and called the coppers. But... I fear the goon had already got a good pipe at me. By the time the heat showed up, he’d breezed.”
“Miss… er, what’s your name?”
“Daisy.”
“Daisy. Pretty name.” If Carmen hadn’t known any better, she would’ve sworn she saw a blush colour the gal’s cheeks. Just her makeup in your crappy lighting, Carm. Nothing more. “Okay, Miss Daisy. Think long and hard. Did you get a slant at this guy? He saw you, but did you see him? Notable features? Scars, tattoos, clothing, markings - anything you can remember will be a big help.”
“He was big… really big, but lean. Lots of muscle. It was dark… I couldn’t get a look at his pan. But he had yellow peepers, I think. A lot of scars. Oh! And he had a lot of tatts too, actually. But the one that stood out to me was a cat - the animal, not a guy - with devil horns. Across the left shoulder. I think it was supposed to be a cat? It had pointy ears, and it was smiling with these huge fangs. Wouldn’t have got a slant at it if he’d been wearing a jacket or a flogger.”
Carmen swore under her breath. “It’s the Hellcats. That’s their mark, always on the left shoulder.” She unconsciously rubbed her own shoulder beneath her trench coat. The tattoo had been removed, but the scar never went away. She was lucky her fur had grown back. “Sounds like you saw a dropper. If I had to guess, I’d say it was Jaguar or Butch. Those two don’t care who pipes at ‘em; they’ll hunt down any witnesses and bump ’em off.” Carmen’s left ear flicked as Daisy’s breathing rate increased. “I don’t mean to scare you, but I’d be a moron not to be square with you. If the Hellcats are after you, you’re a walking stiff.”
Carmen’s heart ached as Daisy’s eyes filled with tears, shimmering like sapphires in the dim yellow light. “Isn’t there anything you can do?” Her feathery voice brimmed with desperation.
“Well… ah, I can’t say no to that map. Just so happens that it’s your lucky day.” Carmen fixed Daisy’s pretty features with an intense stare, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “You found the only number in town who defected from the Hellcats and lived to tell the tale.”
Daisy’s mouth fell open a little as she blinked at Carmen in complete and utter shock. “You were a Hellcat?”
“I know, I know. Big upset. Wouldn’t think a right gumshoe like me would’ve fallen in with those punks.”
“How…?”
“It’s a long story.” Carmen paused, debating whether or not to get into it. She didn’t spill her life’s tale to just anyone, but… this dame was on the run from the Hellcats, same as she’d been. One look at Daisy’s expression and she let out a sigh of defeat. “But I’ll cut you a deal. Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you all about it.”