Spirit of Gifting Pt 3 Ft James

James walked into her office and sighed at the state of her desk. Although she wasn’t, by any means, a messy person by nature, the demands of her chosen occupation saw a miserable collection of quick meal containers, coffee cups, files and a smattering of random objections grow night after night. 

Resolving to clean it before any of her hivemates could come over, as they were sometimes wont to do, she stepped into her office, letting the door close behind her. She crossed the room to the supply closet, grabbed a trash bag from it, and headed to her desk. 

She was coming back from tossing an altogether much too full trash bag in the dumpster when her phone started to ring. James angled her head toward the clock, pushing her eye up from its resting place in her neck, and opened her mouth, allowing it to peek out, the aperture iris widening and constricting at the sudden exposure to light. 

It was, unfortunately, the very start of her hours, and she couldn’t imagine what would be so pressing someone would call her immediately upon her workday starting. Especially considering this workday started after everyone else had gone home from their normal 9-5’s. She could only think of one person, as his shift also started right around this time and often extended far beyond hers. 

“Did you meet with Alloy?” 

No hello, no good evening, no introduction, just the gravelly voice of the Crook captain she’d come to respect. He was as much no-nonsense and work oriented as she was, maybe more so if she was feeling charitable.James remembered to swallow her eye in order to talk to him. Her voice was husky and slightly hoarse from disuse.  

“Didn’t have the time,” she answered. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it also wasn’t exactly the truth. 

And of course he picked up on it. “James, I know you don’t like him…” the significant pause was to let her fill in ‘and neither do I’ but he couldn’t say it because he was on the clock and surrounded by his greenhorns. “...but it’s a lead you need to pursue, mostly because I’ve hit a wall on the case.” 

James felt sorry for him. He always hit walls in his cases. He had been given his command as an impossible task, made something of it, but was road blocked by internal politics. He was a good captain, a great public servant, and his powers of observation were, in her opinion, much better than he was given credit for. 

“What if I was working on something different today? Something pressing?” 

Just because she respected and just because he was correct in that she should pursue her leads in her cases did not mean that she would let him boss her around. She wasn’t one of his command. 

“James, come on, you’re not. It’s the start of your day.” 

The exasperation in his voice made her wonder if he was pulling a double. Normally he didn’t resort to what was essentially whining for a Crook like him. 

“I’ll let you know what I find out, when I find out. Go nap in your office for a bit. You sound cranky.” 

She hung up the phone before he could argue, and found herself grinning. 

The grin faded away when she circled her desk and opened her drawer. In it was the crumpled hand-out she had received from Alloy’s henchman. How petty was it, she thought, to print so many of these notices specifically to hand out in a digital age? She popped her eye back into her mouth and read the hand-out over again. It was all legalese but boiled down to: this piece of paper means I can do as I please. Technically the scene they’d arrived at was a dwelling bought and paid for by the UBF for its employee. With the employee dead, everything had been taken back, and the UBF now needed to be dealt with in order to get any kind of access to information that could prove pertinent to the investigation of what was shaping up to be a very sad case of foul play. 

Although she didn’t understand the pairing, were it not for the human partner’s death, it was likely the Cccat’s disappearance wouldn’t have been reported until there was little to no evidence left, making the parsing even harder, as thoughts and memories faded with time. 

It was curious that a UBF employee would want to be involved with a Cccat. It was no secret that not a single Cccat was employed by the construction giant. Its celebrity CEO, Aloyius Brassjaw of the famed Brassjaw family, claimed he was simply engaging in philanthropy by choosing to employ disadvantaged skireans over those with significant advantages. He would also ask after other businesses that had little to no representation of Crooks, Nautipods and Gravents within their ranks. It made nailing him down for discriminatory employment practices impossible. 

Perhaps, she thought, Alloy didn’t demand his employees stay away from Cccats, in an effort to have an out when it was, once again, brought up that he had no Cccats in his employ. 

Realizing she’d been staring at the hand-out blankly, she stuffed it back into the desk drawer and shut it with more force than necessary. She snatched the elegant black business card from her desk, Alloy’s name on the front in gold, a phone number on the back. 

Swallowing her eye, she reached up and stroked her crowns, a self-soothing habit. With her other hand, she dialed the number and held the handset up to her ear. 

It rang and rang and rang and rang. She was about to slam the handset down and just show up when the ringer cut off. There was the sound of the phone being handled. 

“Alloy,” was the eventual answer. His voice was smooth, deep and he sounded drowsy. As if he’d just woken up. 

“James,” she answered curtly. 

It sounded as though he covered the phone’s speaker with his hand, and a muffled discussion was happening in the background. James’ eye rolled in its pouch. 

“James of the Leading Ladies Detective Agency,” he clarified after the muffled conversation. 

“Yes.” 

“Will you be requesting a visit? To discuss that grisly business at Theresa's apartment, I’m sure.” 

He still sounded tired. It irritated her, but she made no comment. It wasn’t her business what he did at this hour. 

“Yes. Tonight.” 

Another muffled conversation. “I have an opening at eight thirty if that works for you.” 

“It does.” 

“Good, see you then.” 

He hung up, and she slapped the handset back in its cradle, which made a satisfying ringing noise. 

While she had yet to personally meet with Alloy himself, much of her work had her deal with his company and his goons. Often she found seemingly simple investigations turned into a nightmare of red-tape and convoluted connections. Then there was her own research into the company and its pet billionaire playboy. She didn’t like what she saw. Though there was nothing incriminating on the surface, if she paid attention to only what was on the surface she’d be out of a job. 

There was no concrete proof, but she had reason to believe Alloy was the rumored underground boss nicknamed Copperhead. Copperhead’s list of crimes were long. Of their potential racketeering charges, there was money-laundering, contraband trafficking, weapons trafficking, extortion, blackmail, bid-rigging at legal auctions, participation in illegal auctions, and engaging in deadly conflict with rival gangs, to name a few. 

She would have to be very careful. Her hivemates would disagree with her going alone, but this job demanded risks and she wasn’t going to shy away from it in order to get as close to the truth as she could. 

With two and a half hours to spare, she decided to transcribe some of her case notes. Reducing the amount of paperwork on her desk was therapeutic and would keep the girls off her back about it. 

Eight o clock came too soon. While both the UBF headquarters and the Leading Ladies Detective agency were in Key, they were on damn near opposite sides. Far be it from the Brassjaws to headquarter their ancient family business in any place not also surrounded by old money. Convenient not to be in Choice. Although an indicator of wealth, whether personal or commercial, residence in Choice came with strict oversight. 

James drove down to the UBF headquarters, arriving ten minutes ahead of schedule. She’d expected a much more thorough vetting process, but all they did was open the gate and let her in after a brief waiting period. The Crook and human pair in the security booth even tipped their heads at her respectfully as she passed. 

A hulking Crook politely directed her to visitor’s parking and led her to the front of the building where a lovely nautipod took over, providing her with a visitor’s badge and directions to get straight to Alloy’s office. It was, of course, at the very top floor. The elevator did not go all the way up. Instead, she had to get out, and was led by yet another lovely nautipod to another elevator flanked by Crooks.

When she finally arrived on Alloy’s floor, she was led down the hall by a lovely, slender Crook. They smelled very sweet, and something was off-putting about them, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. 

Large, black double doors edged in gold led to his office, but seeing as this was an entire floor, she was sure there was more than just his office up here. Unfortunately she was afforded absolutely no time to go exploring on her own. Parsing was also out of the question. There weren’t enough Cccats around to get a good read on the place. This had to be on purpose. 

Her misgivings were put on hold as the slender Crook pressed their hand to a hidden panel, shortly afterward opening the unlocked doors for them. 

Sitting at a luxury executive desk with an enormous aquarium behind him, was Aloycious Brassjaw himself. He was, by human standards, conventionally good looking; thick, well-groomed hair, mostly symmetrical features, appropriately angular per masculine standards, muscular and well-dressed. 

As the acting CEO, he dressed much more modest than when he was out partying. He was known for his gaudy sense of fashion in the wider public.

Standing just behind his left shoulder was that henchman of his, the nautipod secretary. Another lovely individual in looks only. That one had an attitude built to drive others away. 

“Don’t just stand there,” Alloy said, sounding amused. 

James, who had been lingering in the doorway, walked into the office, the doors sliding shut softly behind her. She approached the chair opposite Alloy’s desk and watched as his nautipod secretary circled the desk to pull it out for her. She swallowed her eyeball, in preparation for a physical conversation. 

“Thanks,” she said by force of habit as she sat. 

“You’re very welcome,” the nautipod replied, sounding equally as amused. 

She didn’t know what was so funny, but already she felt irritated by this whole affair. Reflexively, she popped her eyeball back into her mouth to observe him. 

“So, lay it on me, James. What can I do for you?” 

His informality was unwelcome, but she disregarded it. Instead, she pulled out access requests typed up in advance, and set them on Alloy’s desk. He didn’t reach for them, his hands laced together in front of him, curiously devoid of rings. The nautipod at his side took the requests instead and pored over them. 

 James almost swallowed her eye to begin speaking when she saw a little leg sticking out of Alloy’s breast pocket. 

As if he sensed her gaze, Alloy placed a hand over his breast pocket. “My little ward. He’s called Puff, and he’s sleeping.” 

Nowhere in her research did a ward come up. When had he taken stewardship over a gravent child? Why wasn’t this more public? Surely it was the ultimate philanthropic move. Then again, this could be something personal, too personal to divulge to the public. He was, after all, a celebrity. 

“Puff doesn’t like crowds, he stays at home when I go out.” 

James swallowed her eye. “Not the information I came here for.” 

Alloy chuckled and reached up, touching the nautipod’s elbow all-too gently. 

“It all seems in order. The only one that will take time is the access to the UBF computer owned by our employee and used by their partner. What is business and what is personal must be separated before we can turn it over.”

He didn’t hand back her requests, instead he placed them in a waiting folder and returned to his position slightly behind Alloy’s right shoulder. 

They were being entirely too forthcoming. Something about this was rubbing her the wrong way, but she couldn’t identify it. 

“This didn’t have to be a meeting,” she stated. 

“It didn’t,” Alloy agreed. 

Before she could respond with a remark regarding wasting her time, Alloy rose from his seat. Televised appearances and pictures did not do him justice. He was enormous for a human, easily dwarfing not only James herself, but his nautipod assistant. He moved with the grace of someone trained to walk in front of cameras, heading over to a hidden bar. He poured a drink for himself and retrieved a bottle of water for James. 

Returning, he sat, setting the bottle of water in front of her, and leaned back in his chair to enjoy his drink. It was a dark amber color, probably scotch, or whiskey. 

She didn’t reach for the bottle, letting it sit there. 

“I wanted to meet you, myself. I’ve heard a lot about the good your agency does, and how thorough you are. I admire your dedication and perseverance.” 

Compliments? Why? 

“It’s unfortunate that I cannot fully comply with your friend in the task force. He has to go by the book, and it doesn’t allow him to be flexible. I cannot provide any data from the UBF in this case. It’s against our data security agreement the deceased signed. However, I can provide any and all personal information, as well as access to the location. My offer for the split of data was rejected by the task force.” 

“Although it is simply a request now, Mr. Brassjaw–” 

“Please, it’s Alloy.” 

“Alloy. Although it is simply a request now, if evidence is found implicating the UBF as responsible for the deaths of your employee and her partner–” 

“I understand, but I assure you we look after our employees. Theresa was a valued member of our software development team. We had already given her the time off for her union ceremony with her partner, Velaad. The union present we arranged will now have to be liquidated and donated to her estate… so I do have an investment in you and the Task Force finding out what happened to her, and her partner.” 

He sounded genuinely concerned. There was an undercurrent of anger. Perhaps this was something he had not anticipated, an unknown assailant or turn of events resulting in the death of what seemed to be an above-board software engineer. 

The data she’d obtained extralegally at the scene supported this line of thinking. There hadn’t been anything incriminating on the business side of things. She’d been working on tailoring the off-site SEO for the UBF’s official website. 

The personal stuff, however, was uncomfortable in nature. 

“Understood. Well, if that is all,” she said, rising from her seat. 

“For now, yes. Please do let me know if you need anything further. If I don’t answer when you call, please leave a message. I will get back to you.”

Alloy’s nautipod assistant led her out, and from there it was a reverse parade of the same employees who’d led her in, all the way back to her car and out of the gates. 

She hadn’t realized it, but the entire time she’d been on edge. It was only when she reached the first traffic light that she let the tension out of her body, relaxing back into the driver’s seat. 

There was definitely something off about Aloycius Brassjaw, but she couldn’t say directly what it was. He was unfortunately quite charming. Were it not for her suspicions of his true nature, and how secure the building was for the headquarters of a construction conglomerate, she would have taken him at face value. 

However, the most important thing to take away was, she didn’t think the UBF was involved this time. The meeting was his way of telling her he didn’t know what happened. A big admission from someone like him. 

Tonight, she would meet with her friend in the task force and put their heads together on this one.