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by Slice Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR · Chapter · Detective · #2004623
More stuff happens. Maybe.
"I can't believe this. Have you read a newspaper lately?"

The ShopFast was never busy; each and every time they had entered it on their way to or from work the detectives had found it devoid of any life, except for the clerk. And even that, Bernard often hypothesized, was a stretch.

"The two most popular ones are just outright committing libel against each other," Carter continued, annoyed. "On the front page, too. It's sickening." He thumbed through the pages of one of the papers, searching for a story he saw advertised on the front.

"We also carry national ones," the clerk chimed in helpfully.

Carter smiled at him, acknowledging his remark. He did not smile back.

Over by the magazine racks, Bernard was going through everything trying to find a particular comic book. "Just don't read that crap," he said, glancing at a Housekeeper's Guide briefly. "It's the written version of reality shows."

The hum of freezers and the flip-flip of  paper in surround sound was interrupted by a symphony of jagged, clunky blips. Bernard took his scratched up, brick-like cellphone out of his back pants pocket and held it up, squinting at the cracked yellowish-green screen.

"Huh," is all he said before putting it back in his pocket. Carter's phone vibrated, and he took it out. He unlocked it to read the message, and looked at Bernard.

"Well," Bernard said, "What did he want, anyway?"

"Vance got beaten down by a suspect."

Bernard chuckled and looked up from his comic. "What?"

"He was arresting the guy and got too lax; guy knocked him down with a sweep and beat the crap out of 'm."

Bernard looked at the clerk, who was trying not to grin. This made him laugh even louder.

"Great, we can make fun of him when we go visit my pal." He grabbed the most  recent issue of Archie and Friends and sidled to the counter. Carter was now looking at nothing in particular.

"There was a crowd of people there and nobody did anything..." he said, defeated.

"If it makes you feel any better," Bernard said with an innocent smile, "nobody ever does anything."

Carter visibly cringed. "It doesn't. It really doesn't."

Bernard shrugged.

"Well tough luck, kid. That's the way it is. There's nothing you or I or anyone can do to change a thing about it. Indifference is king in the land of detached."

"Redundancy too, apparently," the clerk said in a quiet voice. Bernard just glared at him.

"But it's getting worse, man. What are we supposed to do?"

"Our jobs, and nothing more."

----

The air was powerful on this particular  night, and howled loudly under the dimly-lit sky. The gray sedan parked in the small lot in front of the liquor store that never closed, then turned off with a sputter before the big man got out. He wasn't wearing what he wore to work, but the difference was imperceptible.

His pants were a dark shade of green. His collared shirt was white, or by now off-white, rather, and the coat he wore was thick and toasty.

The bright sign caught his attention. It would say Superior Spirits and More if it could, but despite being built to do just that it currently only lit up Super Spit, and less than half of More. Bernard considered whether it would have been funnier if the neighborhood kids had made it Super Pit Sore instead, then decided they were probably not that clever. He took out a cigarillo and rolled the tip between his thumb and forefinger.

He waited fifteen minutes before lighting it, then another five minutes before relighting it. He then took a slow puff. After at least fifteen more minutes, Carter walked up.

They said nothing to each other as they entered the Super Spit and stayed silent for the entire wine-buying process. Once they got back outside, Bernard started the dialog.

"You're usually never late," Bernard said as he pulled a candy bar from the brown bag. "You could've just had me pick you up at the bus stop."

Carter did not answer right away. Bernard shrugged and started the car.

A minute or two passed silently as they drove out of the parking lot and onto the cracked asphalt road.

"I just needed some time to walk and let my thoughts... Simmer. I saw four people on my way here, not one of them returned my greeting. I think this town is getting to me."

Bernard expertly opened his candy bar wrapper with one hand.

"It's you against the world," he said, pushing out the end of the bar. "Everyone has to deal with the world around them, buddy. It's just how it works. And Edgedale is our own little world."

Bernard took a small bite. His phone rang. He ignored it and continued talking.

"When I came here from Oro, it took a bit of adjusting. It's just a few hours by plane, but it feels so different. The atmosphere. Weather. You know what the biggest difference is, though, you see violence over there, all this crime, and the people are constantly distraught, going 'we gotta do something!', and they never do. I mean they do, they try to or whatever, but it's not enough."

He took another bite, briefly looked at his partner, who was engrossed in the story, and looked back at the road.

"And here?" Carter finally asked.

"Here it's like, slightly less violence. No real gangs, no mob influence whatsoever, that pushes the violence down like 4 points,* say, but it's almost like that changes the people's reaction completely. They just don't care anymore. It's like there's this invisible line, and we're just under it. Above that line, the town goes nuts, maybe even takes action. Below it.. Pure apathy."

All Carter said was "Hm".

They drove in silence for three more minutes, and stopped at a club that advertised the most beautiful girls from all over the world, hot shows and no alcohol. Bernard parked under the only flickering light pole out of six, and they got out, and Tobias was standing there waving at them.

They walked over to him, and they greeted him with no more than a head-nod, which he returned. Then they followed him as he started walking.

"Sorry about, eh," Tobias waved his hands, signaling behind them, "That. It's safe though. They have guards walk around outside every once in a while. But, why'd you park under that specific light?"

"Oh you know. Just gives the illusion that the car is dangerous. Or not worth jackin'. Either way, no one's ever tried anything."

Bernard finished his candy bar and gently folded the wrapper up. He put it in his back pants pocket. His partner shot him a look. He did not care.

The air was not cold nor warm, and the breeze was light enough to remain unnoticed.

"Oh okay fine, if nobody's going to bring it up, I'll bite; why couldn't we just park at your house?"

The lanky detective chortled bashfully, scratched his neck.

"It's just, I don't know, it's like your trench coat. It adds an extra layer of protection. Or, like parking your car under worst light out of the lot, it's making sure things aren't as they seem. As a detective you can't be too careful."

Tobias had on black and red sneakers, which accentuated his black jeans and red belt. His shirt bore a "BOTCH" logo. In the relative darkness of the late evening, he almost seemed ten years younger.

The walk was less than four minutes long, and once they arrived at Tobias' apartment, they all looked around suspiciously before entering, Carter and Bernard following their host's lead.

The place was not big, but the layout made it seem spacious; the colors were well-matched, if sparse in variation. The black leather couch took up most of the living room, and off to the west the kitchen housed a fully-set dining table. All of the walls were were an airy white.

Tobias motioned for his guests to sit as he walked into the kitchen and patted the two teenagers preparing the meal on the shoulders, one by one. 

"What up, progeny?" he said, which prompted the boy and girl to share an eye-roll, a glance, and some lighthearted laughter. Carter almost smiled. Bernard did not, for he was not amused.

Within minutes they were all seated at the table and had their meals in front of them.

On each plate, an unmistakably pea-green colored glob in a perfect spherical shape topped with yellow shavings lied glistening in the light of the well-lit kitchen.

Tobias and his kids each bowed, and the guests did the same. They then ate. As soon as they were done the children got up, gathered the plates and went back to work. Tobias took the time to lean in to Carter and Bernard.

"Sorry, we always have dinner together. They'll be gone after we eat."

Carter shook his head. "No no, it's no problem at all, they're delightful." Bernard scoffed. Tobias smiled curiously and said "What?" which prompted Carter to shake his head more violently than before, and this time at Bernard. "No offense," Bernard began, completely ignoring his partner, "but how would we know if they're delightful? They haven't even said anything. Not that I'm complaining, I mean, again, no offense, but I'm not big on kids. That weird pea soup thing was good though."

Carter planted his head in his hands. A moment passed. Tobias started laughing loudly. "That's what I love about you, Maletski. Always honest!" He slapped the big guy on the shoulder, prompting an obviously annoyed smile. Bernard's cell phone rang, he took it out and pressed a button and it stopped.

The rest of the meal was uneventful and fairly quiet as the five just ate the fourteen tiny courses. Sometime during the final course, which was a Filet Mignon Confit composed of burnt carrot, shiitake mushroom demi-glaze, savoy cabbage, and wasabi 'tater tots', Bernard excused himself to use the bathroom.

The rest of the guests used the time to begin a conversation.

Finishing up and in a hurry to get out of the cramped space, Bernard was looking outside of the hexagonal window when he saw an odd man.

He was wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood up and a red baseball cap. On his bag he had an Edgedale U Backpack with some Pokemon or the-other dangling off the side zipper. He was standing across the street and looking around suspiciously. Bernard made a mental note of it, and went back to the others.

He entered just in time to see Tobias and Carter had gotten up and were waiting for him. The kids were washing the small white and silver plates.

"What'd I miss?"

Tobias motioned for them to follow him, which they did. He walked over to a door, opened it, and entered what appeared to be his bedroom. Carter and Bernard shot each other a look before following reluctantly.


The hard-working Australian detective had remodeled, or possibly pre-modeled, the room into a second living room of sorts. The walls were coated in a dark shade of gray, and there was a long brown couch on one end of the room. On the other side, three black bean-bag chairs covered in some sort of fuzzy or perhaps furry material rested comfortably, waiting for Carter and Bernard. 

Despite sharing muted colors and similar space restrictions, this room and the others definitely felt different from each other; the feeling of spaciousness and cleanness present in the living room and kitchen stopped at the door of this one and transformed into a vibe of no-nonsense, down-to-business seriousness. It felt sparse, and nagged at the thought that it might be a home office, but it lacked any desk or visible writing utensils or paperwork of any kind. Other than the bean bags and couch, the only other furnishings were a wooden chest in one corner and a small, mocha-finished storage desk on which a Crosley Archiver USB-enabled turntable record player cordially shared its territory with a Natural wood tea light table candle diffuser.

Bernard closed the door behind him and sat down last, in the bean bag chair closest to the door, in case a quick get-away would suddenly present its necessity.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, the two guests observing as Tobias tried to make himself comfortable on the couch.

"Guys," he finally said, "how are you?"

"Oh for the love of-"

Bernard stopped himself. He took a deep breath and pulled out a his carton of cigarillos and pulled one out of it before Tobias could try to object. "Why are we here, Boone?"

Tobias smiled and shook his finger at the cigarillo-smiling detective. "That's- That's what I like about this guy-", he started. Bernard just shot him a look, dissipating his smile. He looked at Carter, who shrugged.

"Alright," he said, "but I trust you guys that what you hear in here stays in here. Okay? Deal?"

The partners shared a quick look, then turned back to their younger colleague. "Of course, Toby," Carter said, in his most calm and reassuring voice. "You can tell us. What is it? It's about Chuckie and McNamara, right?"

Tobias leaned back in the couch, as if a weight were lifted off his body. He still seemed uneasy, but now he seemed relieved that he did not have to hide it any more. He nodded yes, but didn't say more.

Carter looked at his partner, who was staring at Tobias in a visible irate manner. Carter quickly turned back to Tobias.

"Well we know they've got ties," he said, trying to coax more out of his silent host. "Weaver said the we needed to leave them alone, and that the order came from above. We saw them exchanging drugs for cash, and yeah." Tobias nodded nervously but stayed silent. Carter looked at his partner, who was now mumbling numbers as he lit his cigarillo. A mild burnt peach scent quickly filled the air. Carter continued. "I'm thinking, they have to be the only dealers in town. I mean, they can just nab the competition and toss'em in the slammer."

Finally, Bernard broke his silence while taking out a small silver box that he opened with one hand. "What I don't get," he said as he tapped his ash into the box, "is what Weaver meant by the decision coming from higher up. Who the hell would have the pull to influence the chief into doing something that might get him in hot water?"

"Exactly,' Carter said, "I mean, sure, he's corrupt, but he's always been selfish. And he's got power. Why risk that?"

It stayed silent for a few seconds before Bernard said "And this is the part where either you tell me why we're here, or I beat you down in your own home." He pushed the rest of his cigarillo into the silver box, Carter pinched the bridge of his nose with his right middle finger and thumb, and Tobias took a deep sigh. "Okay," he said with startling assuredness. "Here's what I think."

"What you THINK?!" Bernard yelled as he got up. Carter held him back and pushed him back down into the bean bag. "Let the man talk!"

Tobias didn't flinch. "The mayor. He runs the Daisy."

"So?" Bernard said, exasperated.

"It's a front. They're packaging and selling drugs out of there."

Bernard's eyes widened. "There? Inside the club?"

"Yeah," Tobias continued. "They package it and whatever in the back, and the bartender sells it. And I'm pretty sure they distribute. Like, big." Now Tobias' eyes widened. "Like, nationally. Bigger, maybe."

Carter stared at Tobias. "And you gained all this info, what, by accident?"

"I've been looking into it," he said. "I know they sell. Distributing nationally, I'm not sure, but they have to be to make enough money for the mayor to want to keep it in business. Not to mention to be able to pay of the chief for something that could, as you say, get him in hella hot water."

"I never said hella," Bernard replied.

"Still," Tobias said. "Hella hot water."

They sat silently for a moment.

"And you're sure?"

"Definitely. Carter, you're wrong about the cops being the only dealers. There are others, but yeah they all pretty much work for the Daisy."

They all looked at each other.

"So what do we do?", Tobias asked.

"Nothing." Bernard said. Carter got up very fast. "Nothing?! Are you high?"

"What CAN we do? Look, for now, let's just take the time to think this through." Bernard's cell phone interrupted him with the clunky ringtone, and he interrupted the ringtone with a "Jesus", and he took it out and
finally answered it. "Yes boss, I know about Vance-" he started, before turning quiet. Almost a minute passed, then he closed the phone without a word.

Carter and Tobias looked at each other, then back at Bernard. "What was it," Carter asked.

"The chief just told me he heard I didn't visit Chuckie and apologize." Carter got an incredulous look on his face. "THAT'S what he's been calling you about all day?" "Apparently, I was supposed to get there, apologize, and sign some waiver. He says I'm not getting back into the station until I sign the waiver." He stopped to sigh. "And apologize."

Carter took a second to think of a response. "What're you gonna do?"

A few silent moments passed. Bernard suddenly got a smile on his face. "I'm thinking a vacation is highly overdue."



The ride to the bus stop near Tobias' house was fairly silent. The scent old fake-fruit clung to the ceiling, the streetlights on the road zipped by, and the only word spoken were "What happens if we go to the press?" and the response, "Same thing that happened when Chuck and Mac were arrested. The people talk for a few hours, then the sheer indifference grabs a hold of the town again, and it just goes away."

When Carter got out, Bernard simply asked him if he could look after his house. "Sure," Carter answered, "I can get Genie to watch my place, and I'll stay over at yours. Bernard raised an eyebrow. Carter rolled his eyes. "My only friend. The therapist." Bernard chuckled, humorlessly. "Okay kid. Sounds great. We'll figure it out tomorrow morning."

Bernard drove off, and Carter sat down, leaning on the Bus Stop sign. It had started drizzling, but he had not noticed it. He sat and thought deeply. By the time he went home, the light rain had come and gone a total of three times, never fully developing into a downpour, and the sun had come up, and a quiet new day in Edgedale had begun, without much ado at all.
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