It was nearing midnight by the time Octavia made it to her destination, her companion trailing behind her, slowly whittling down his cigarette. Octavia led the two through the chilly night, entering the dark hardware store. The door was locked, so the Doctor came forward, fiddling with some keys. He unlocked the door, entering first.
They wasted no time admiring the empty, dusty shelves, heading straight to the darkest, probably cleanest part of the entire box of a room. This time, the Doctor let Octavia take point. She rapped on the door in a familiar sequence, one that she'd done many times. The door opened relatively quickly, a warm light coming from behind it.
"Welcome, Miss Melody," said the doorman. Octavia removed her hat, nodding before descending deeper into the building.
The light voices and clinking glasses came within earshot after a few seconds. Octavia opened another door, no passcode required, and broke into the room. What used to be a hardware store had been transformed into a market of illicit material; Alcohol. Of the Pie family speakeasies, this was the most popular and, by extension, the most profitable. It was packed to near-capacity, all manner of shady individuals and Pie family associates enjoying a drink and a smoke. All eyes locked onto Octavia for a few seconds, and the voices hushed to silence, which was nothing she wasn’t used to. As such a high member of the family, Octavia commanded a certain awe and respect that was matched by very few people in Manehattan. One such person was sitting at the end of the bar, sipping a gin and tonic.
Maud sort of blended into the environment, which was appropriate given her status. She watched the speakeasy with a careful eye, keeping order with a simple, emotionless gaze. All around her emanated an aura of danger, power. Her legs were crossed in her stool as she sat, and her leg bounced every few seconds, the only thing betraying her calm, unfeeling display. As soon as Octavia had arrived, Maud raised her hand, her left pinkie finger braced with a silver ring, inset with a square, blackish stone. Octavia took Maud’s hand, placed her lips to the ring, and kissed it. The Doctor did the same, and stood to the left of Octavia as she took a seat and waved down the man behind the counter.
"Whiskey," said Octavia to the bartender. "On the rocks."
"You never change," said Maud. “Consistent. Same drink for years.”
“It’s why you pay me the big bucks, isn’t it?” said Octavia. “Because I can supply you with consistent results?”
“One of the reasons.”
“Whiskey on the rocks,” said the bartender, sliding Octavia her drink.
“Thanks, mate.” Octavia took a sip, then turned to properly face her boss. “What can I do for you, Maud?”
“Leave us,” said Maud to the Doctor. He nodded shakily, then disappeared into the crowd. Octavia watched him go, wondering what could Maud have on her mind that the Doctor couldn’t hear.
“So? What do you need?” asked Octavia.
“You delivered five crates of liquor each to Hearts and Minuette at the top of the month,” said Maud.
“I did indeed.”
“How much would you expect to pull from those ten crates?” asked Maud. Octavia traced her finger around the rim of her glass, doing calculations quickly in her head.
“$70,000, if they charged on the low end. But, given our reach, they could’ve charged more,” said Octavia. “100K, if the streets are as dry as I hope them to be. Why do you ask?”
“Find Hearts. Burn her,” ordered Maud. “I want Minuette alive. Call her in.” Octavia nearly choked on her drink, hacking on her whiskey.
“Fuck’s sake… Are you sure that’s necessary?” asked Octavia. “You can’t just expect me to ice an associate with no explanation as to why.”
“Together, they should have pulled at least $140K. I’m $80,000 short,” said Maud. “We expect a certain amount of lost profits, the price of doing business. It’s simple finances. However…”
“Forty fat ones apiece is a bit more than that, yeah.” Octavia polished off her drink. “Shouldn’t I investigate first? Look into it before we get to dumping bodies?”
“No point. No time. Hearts is replaceable.”
“Are you certain about this?”
“Always. I want it done by noon.”
“Just Hearts?” asked Octavia. Maud nodded.
“I need Minuette. For now.”
Octavia took a moment to think things over. She didn't want to kill Lemon Hearts. They had known each other for years. But there wasn't much to be done for it. Maud had made her decision, and Octavia had never known Maud to change her mind.
“I don’t suppose I can convince you that we don’t have to take this particular path?” asked Octavia. Maud’s eyes flickered around the room, a strange nervousness to her otherwise blank expression.
“I was raised on a farm. More like a rock quarry, really,” came Maud’s slow, carefully-measured response. “But we did grow a few crops. Corn, wheat, sugar. And we kept animals. Typical stuff. Chickens and ducks and cows and horses. And one summer, we started to notice that we were losing animals. It started small, just a chicken or a duck here and there.”
“Something was killing them?” asked Octavia. She was as curious as she was concerned. Maud didn’t speak much of her childhood, and it was always tense and strange when she did. All Octavia had ever been able to work out was that something had happened between the Pie sisters at some point, which was why Maud always seemed to look as if she had stepped on glass whenever she had to speak to Limestone.
“Taking them. We'd go to sleep with twenty chickens and wake up with three missing, without a trace. One night, I decide to stay with the animals to watch over them, make sure nothing went wrong.” She gestured to the bartender, who quickly removed her glass and replaced it with another gin and tonic. Maud took the garnishing lime wheel and chewed on it before continuing her story.
“Nothing at all happened until about midnight. Then, I heard a hiss and a rattle. I followed the noise and found a snake, longer and thicker than my arm, swallowing three of my ducks whole. And, before I could grab my father's gun, the snake slithered right out, hiding somewhere in the wheat crop. So I told my father, and we agreed that we had to kill it before it started to kill our horses and cows. We laid bait and traps, but it was too clever. We tried hunting it, but it was too sneaky. We tried appeasing it with offerings of food, but its hunger was too great. This went on for weeks, this snake terrorizing my family. My mother was convinced that this snake was the devil walking the Earth.”
“What did you do?” asked Octavia. Maud drained her drink, sliding her glass away.
“My father fashioned a torch, went out to the wheat crop, and torched our harvest,” said Maud. “He burned down a full season’s worth of crops to flush out this snake.” She reached into her breast pocket and pulled out a carton of cigarettes. She withdrew one and put it in her mouth; The bartender struck a match from his pocket and lit Maud’s cigarette. “This time, I would rather kill the snake when all it’s doing is eating ducks.”
Octavia sighed, then stood up from her seat. She pulled out her wallet and tossed a wad of bills onto the counter.
“Alright, then. I’ll be on my way, then,” said Octavia. “Keep the change, mate.”
“Noon, Octavia,” said Maud. “Then come back here. We’ll talk then.”
“Of course. Now, where did that Doctor of mine get off to?”
“Leave him. Do it alone.” Maud tapped the ash out of her cigarette. “I’m not sure about him.”
“He’s a good man. I trust him.”
“I trusted Hearts, too. Be careful who you trust.”
Octavia turned, pausing for just a moment. The way Maud spoke made Octavia nervous, but not in the usual way. Maud had a way of intimidating whoever she spoke to, but this was different. Maud was always calm and grey in her way of speaking, but, when she told her story, Octavia felt something else in her voice. She felt a layer of fear.
“Do you trust me, Maud?” asked Octavia. Maud remained silent for a moment, accepting another drink from the bartender.
“Of course I do. But, then again, I trusted Hearts, too,” she said, chewing on another lime. “I have more confidence that you won’t disappoint me. You’ve been good to the family.”
“Take it easy, Maud.” Octavia returned her hat to her head, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Pace yourself. You’re tearing through our inventory quicker than the customers.”
Octavia strolled through the room, thinking long and hard about what she would do. It would be unpleasant work, but she could expect no less from this life of hers. She sighed on her way out the door, deciding that she would have to do what she always did: get her hands dirty now and ask for forgiveness later.
Octavia pulled her car to a stop, parking outside of the storage house. She looked to the back seat, where the case to her cello sat in wait. She considered it for a moment, the disregarded it in favor of her trusty Broomhandle. She slipped it into her side holster, then stepped out into the Manehattan twilight. Despite not being especially fond of the big city, Octavia had to admit that it could be beautiful. In the early hours of the day, before the sun has properly started rising into the sky, the grey, lifeless city had color. Energy. Octavia took a moment to appreciate the sky before walking into the storage house.
Rows and rows of crates lined the room, crates of booze and drugs, hidden along with legitimate goods. Octavia paid them little attention as she strolled through the single room, headed for the back. Her associates each sat on a crate lazily, Minuette sipping a coffee. It was obvious that she had only just then escaped the clutches of sleep. Lemon Hearts was only in slightly better condition, breaking her fast with a cigarette.
“You better have a good reason for calling us out here,” yawned Minuette. “I’ve been up all night trying to catch up on sales.” She chugged the last of her coffee and tossed the cup aside. “What’s the deal?”
“You need to go see Maud,” said Octavia. She checked her watch. “Now. You know how she feels about being left waiting.” Minuette went pale as a sheet, fear coursing through her. Being called in by Maud Pie normally had only two possible outcomes, and Minuette didn’t think she was due for a promotion anytime soon. She gulped, her entire body trembling as she stood up from her improvised seat.
“Shit. You know what for?”
“Despite what people might be telling you, I’m not exactly best mates with the Boss,” said Octavia. “She doesn’t tell me any more than she tells you.”
“I-I… fuck, what do I do…?” Minuette’s terror was palpable, almost infectious. Octavia knew herself to be in the Boss’ good graces, and even she would feel a bit nervous if she were in Minuette’s shoes.
“Better to get it done with quick. Pissing about and wasting time will only make things worse,” said Octavia. “You want a smoke?” Minuette nodded, and Octavia supplied her with a cigarette. “There. Calm down, get your head together… And go see the Boss.”
“D-did she look angry?” asked Minuette.
“She looked like Maud. You know how she is. If she was really angry…” Octavia grimaced slightly. “Well, you’d be long dead, I imagine. Like I said, wasting time will only make things harder. Go. Now.”
Minuette took in a deep breath, blowing out a swirling cloud of smoke. She mumbled some form of farewells, then slowly trudged out of the storage house. Octavia watched her go, keeping silent until after the door had closed behind her. Octavia hoped in her heart of hearts that Minuette would be okay. Maud had said that she needed her, and that was a good sign. Maud felt most things were replaceable, so to be thought a necessity by her, even temporarily, meant your chances at making it were rather good.
“Damn. Poor Minny,” said Lemon Hearts. “Don’t know what she did to piss off the Boss. You?”
“She owes Maud money. A lot,” said Octavia. “But that’s not important right now. I need to speak to you.”
“Yeah? What’s wrong?”
“I… I’m looking for a girl. Working girl.”
“Try Midtown. Above 48th Street,” said Lemon Hearts. “You got a type? I’ve got some connections down there to get you a good price. Gotta admit, ‘Tavia, didn’t think you’d be the one to do something like that.”
“No, you twat, I’m looking for a girl who happens to be a prostitute,” said Octavia with a glare. “Her occupation has nothing to do with it. Vinyl Scratch. Blue hair, reddish eyes. About my height. Have you seen her?”
“Hm… I dunno. Sounds familiar. I think maybe by Limestone?” said Lemon Hearts. “Can’t say for sure. Why?”
“Don’t worry yourself over it.” Octavia sighed, recalling her own advice to Minuette. She couldn’t waste any more time. That would only make things worse.
“We got something we need to do, ‘Tavia?” asked Lemon with a yawn. “Or did you call me here just to send Minny off?”
“You fucked up, Hearts. I don’t know what you did with the extra cash, but I hope it was worth it.” Octavia drew her pistol and levelled it at Lemon Hearts’ head.
“What the fuck?!” Lemon raised her hands in surrender. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“May God have mercy on you, Hearts.” Octavia pulled the trigger, sending a cracking ring throughout the storage house. She fired at Hearts’ fallen, bloodied body, then stowed her gun away. She stared at her associate’s corpse, trying her hardest to remind herself that this was the only thing she could do. She had no choice.
Octavia closed Lemon Hearts’ cold, lifeless, vacant eyes, muttering a prayer under her breath. She hoped the best for Hearts, no matter how unlikely the outcome. At the very least, she should have peace. That’s more than most made men could ask for. When the prayer was done, Octavia returned to her car to gather the things she’d need for the cleanup. Once she returned and wrapped the body up, she dragged it out to her car for proper disposal.
She glanced to the sky, which had lost the whimsical light of the early morning. Now, it was the dull, lifeless grey that Octavia had come to expect.