Same old same
Detective Black made her way back to her home after another day of sleuthing. Her jacket hit the floor along with her hat before she took a few pricks from her table. Sticking them in her mouth she went about slowly placing her notes on the wall in front of herself. Nodding, she took a red string and started linking a few to other things already on the wall.
After she had spoken with Lady Freya she went to go talk with an old acquaintance of hers. He was a big time debt collector and always helped her where he could if she let a few…bruised people slip by her line of sight when there. She knew that in order to get an omelette a few eggs had to be broken.
He told her of a new face in town and that he was using a man only known as Mr. Somner to coax out money owed. That name rang a bell in her head and after some thinking she remembered that almost all the debt collectors used Mr. Somner to intimidate people. He was a large man with a nasty scar down the side of his face and neck. Not someone you would want to pick a fight with.
Mr. Somner was one of those people that didn’t mind getting his hands dirty. Something Detective Black came to conclusion when she rummaged through a few copies of frequent offenders. He had been in and out of jail for assault, but never for murder or even attempted murder, but he was her closest lead currently.
So the detective spent a good portion of her day going around the lower districts to gather some information. She would probably still have been there if one of her informants hadn’t come over to warn her that she was starting to raise suspicions.
She was no use to this case if she ended up dead or bruised. She knew when to cut her losses.
Grunting she unbuttons her shirt and relieves her chest of the bindings around them. Sighing in relief after taking a deep breath she moves to the far back wall opposite the wall of evidence. She hummed and tilted her head before throwing her hands up in the air and making her way to the bathroom for a much needed wash. The slums reeked of piss and booze, especially when the sun went down and the moon rose.
She let out a loud groan as her body sunk into the warm water. The cold winter snow wasn’t doing her any favors. She rested her head back against the rim of the bath and relaxed.
A small smile tugged at her lips as she replayed the image of Lady Freya walking down the stairs. So elegant and sure. The Detective took her time to remember how the dress moved around her legs, how the bodice piece slightly moved on her hips as each step no doubt made her backside constrict and slack. It did do wonders to her chest too.
The detective replayed it again how she saw it, but frowned slightly. At one side where a hidden pocket on the dress would be, something was in there because it looked heavier; it dented slightly compared to the other side.
Now she knows there isn’t much that would be heavy enough to do that, that a Lady would have. Not unless it was probably something metal, a weighted something. She shakes her head and goes back to tracing over other parts of the woman.
The detective’s eyes opened and she sat up in the bath. Lifting a hand she looks over her knuckles, closing and opening her fists. As usual her knuckles were bruised. Lady Freya’s knuckles were at a tail end of healing and there was a distinctive shape the bruising was in.
Looking to her side the detective grabs the knuckle busters that laid there. It was still covered in dried blood. She had meant to clean it ages ago, but kept forgetting. Sliding it onto her hand she realizes what the weight possibly could have been.
Why would a Lady carry something like that? It was ridiculous. The detective wanted to scoff, but she remembered the dangerous flash in those green eyes. Lady Freya had darkness in her it seemed. She removed the weapon and set about washing herself before getting dressed once more.
This crime wasn’t going to solve itself after all.
The detective sighs as she grabs a bottle of scotch and sits down with her back against the far wall. She let her eyes travel over everything individually and then all at once. For most of the rest of the night she spent sipping from her bottle and restarting the evidence wall no less than three times.
At some point after the sun started shining into the room again did she somehow manage to doze off. Her eyes closed for a brief hour before snapping open as she heard the door downstairs creak open.
The detective took a moment before cursing at realizing it was none other than the Lady herself. She jumped up and stashed away the half-drunk bottle. As she heard the sounds of heeled boots ascend the creaky wooden stairs she snapped off a mint leaf from the plant at the window and chewed on it.
“I’m sorry to be disturbing you so early Detective,” Lady Freya said as she entered the room.
The detective only had enough time to hug her open shirt closed and run a hand through her hair.
“No disturbance, I’ve been awake since before the sun,” she said. Freya gave the detective a once over, blushed slightly and turned her attention away.
“I’m sorry to arrive unannounced,” she said and some of the books on a bookshelves caught her attention. The detective quickly spat out the chewed mint leaf before managing to button up her shirt.
“I’m more questioning how you found my place of residence,” the detective said.
“A Lady has her ways Detective,” Freya smirked as she looked over her shoulder.
“Right, of course,” she said and cleared her throat before picking up some older clothes and dumping them behind her couch.
“I do apologize for the state of my home Lady Freya, I don’t get visitors,” the detective explained. She could see Freya was trying not to pay it much attention.
“Your home, your rules, detective,” she simply said.
“Forgive me Lady Freya, but…why are you here?” Detective Black asked as she frowned slightly. Freya gave her a brilliant smile that rivaled the sparkle in her eyes.
“I know where Mr. Somner is.”