Jules Delacroix. I spent the better part of a month fishing for information on the sleazy little man. Connor assisted, of course, but I was better at blending in with the crowds of Williamsburg than he was - white hoods didn't help one blend in much. Instead, he stuck to intercepting letters and swiping documents from those who claimed to be close to the man. Few proved to be of any real use, as the vast majority were about people's debts to him. And there were quite a few who owed him.
Plenty knew of Delacroix in Williamsburg, though few actually knew him. He seemed to dislike associating with those he deemed to be of a lower class than him, and often had a sneer on his face when he was out and about. He was a greedy type of guy, a gambler with a penchant for cheating those around him out of as much money as he could. He hired men to extort money from those he claimed were "indebted" to him and hadn't payed up by the time they were meant to, which often meant the poor soul had to pay significantly more - sometimes double or triple the original amount - as a "late fee."
When I would spot him in public, he'd be accompanied by a small number of guards, armed with the latest and greatest in muskets, pistols, and swords. He wasn't paranoid so much as proud, I came to learn. He enjoyed reminding the lower class who he was. Of course, that made it trivially simple to pick him out from the crowd; the expensive clothing, ghostly pale skin - paler than even mine -, and bright blond hair separated him from the commoners as much as his bodyguards.
I'd keep my head down, follow him from afar. In the first couple of weeks in Williamsburg, I came to learn he owned a rather impressive estate outside of town. Guards patrolled the edge of his property night and day, but my training let me slip through more than once, despite a handful of close calls with some rather bored guards. I never got terribly close to his manor, though. Some many meters around the house were clear of any cover I could have used, and the way the guards were stationed left little opportunity to slip through.
Taking down Delacroix would be difficult, to say the least. Connor and I spent most of August trying to find some way or another to break into the building undetected, though our late-night scoutings were unsuccessful. Then, we struck gold - figuratively, of course.
I was in the market late one afternoon, trying to track down anything I could find about Delacroix. Whether it was fate or simple coincidence, I overheard his name dropped by a trio.
"Delacroix's planning on hosting another one of his parties in December." A portly man said.
"Let me guess, only 'the colonies' finest' are welcome, right?" The local seamstress sneered.
"It's Delacroix, of course he wants to keep out us street-goers." The man replied.
The seamstress snorted. "After all the work I've done for that man, you'd think I'd at least get some table scraps for my efforts. Damn that bastard."
A second woman, an innkeeper from across town, rolled her eyes. "Now, now, Helga, would you really want to be surrounded by all those snooty 'friends' of his, anyway? One of them will stab him in the back one of these days, mark my words."
The man nodded. "The cheat'll get what's coming to him. Best not to be around when it happens."
I left them at that, having found the opening I'd need. My feet carried me to the small, decrepit inn Connor and I had called home for the last two months. As I'd expected, he was perusing the documents he'd collected over the past week in the confines of our shared room.
He looked up as I approached. "Courtney." A loud fwump and the low groaning of the ropes supporting my mattress marked my ungraceful fall on to my bed.
"I think I found something. We might need to contact Haytham, though." I told him.
He continued to sift through the papers scattered on his own mattress. "The party?"
My face scrunched into an expression of false betrayal as I sat up. "Wow, you knew about it before I did? And didn't even tell me? Gods, Con, I thought we had something."
My expression brightened and I chuckled at myself while Connor's eyes rolled. "I will take that as a yes." He said flatly. "It seems it is being planned for the 17th of December. Are you certain we could arrange for… whatever it is you have planned before then?"
"It's like, three months away! Of course we can." I scoffed, running my hand through my dark hair. I hadn't gotten it cut for a few months, and it was long enough to get in my eyes fairly often. I'd have to find a barber soon, or cut it myself - though my skills with anything save an electric clipper suggested that was a bad idea.
"What is it you would be asking of my father?" Connor asked, snapping me from my thoughts.
"Haytham owns land in Virginia, meaning it's possible Delacroix might let him in-or someone related to him, anyway." A grin found its way to my face as he organized the papers into little piles.
Connor's brow furrowed. "'Someone related to him?' You mean me?"
"One of us, anyway. I was thinking I could pass as his kid somehow and get in. It'd be a good way to use all those damned lessons on 'etiquette' I was forced into back before I was allowed to pick up a sword." In retrospect, they'd proven useful for navigating the era, but I could still recall Etienne's disdain for my crude sense of humor. The thought was soon replaced by another that made my grin return. "Although, now that you mention it, I wouldn't mind seeing you in a tuxedo."
"What is a tuxedo?" He asked confusedly.
I sighed. "Formal-wear in my time; that was supposed to be a joke."
"Ah, I see. Haha." The corners of his lips twitched upwards when I shot him a glare. He could be snarky when the mood struck him.
"Hilarious, I know." I deadpanned. "When will you be ready to leave?"
"At any time. I would prefer we leave sooner rather than later, if only so I may check in with my village." He replied. Over the past couple of months, the deal between Johnson and the Kanien'kehá ka had faded to the back of my mind. I offered him a small smile.
"For what it's worth, Johnson's always seemed like a good man to me. It would surprise me if he did allow any harm to come to your people." I spoke softly.
"I will keep that in mind." He didn't look at me for a moment. "If any the Templars go back on their word, I will kill them. Even Haytham or you. You are aware of that, correct?"
"Yes." I paused. "Though I hope it doesn't come to that."
"As do I." He said quietly.
After a moment of silence, I stood. "Right. Sad, mildly threatening talks aside, we should get packed and ready to leave by morning. No reason to waste time sitting around, right?"
He nodded. "Not even a moment."