Disclaimer: Not mine, if they were Cutler wouldn't be proper dead ;) Just borrowing Toby Whithouse's toys.

Author's note: Thx to paperclaire for pointing out yet another piece of sneaky AE ;)


Business as usual

Finally, after three weeks, the community quieted down a bit. Slowly it was sinking in that Mr. Yorke would not be coming back, first carefully disbelieving whispers were heard that he might be proper dead. After another week the community was rife with a thousand different theories as to how the great Lord Harry could have met his end. Most of them were so outlandish they made Nick Cutler snicker despite his grief as he hid behind a growing stack of paperwork at a table in "Stoker's In- and Export". Hal would never have committed suicide…let alone with a big wooden cross from the parish church. It was also very unlikely that the Great Lord Harry accidentally fell on a fence post. Really, what were they thinking? Annoying band of gossiping washerwomen they were, doing nothing more productive than flapping their mouths.

Cutler himself was blaming the werewolf. Lance, Lawrence, Leroy? No, shorter, something with L though. Finally he dragged the name Leo out of some dusty closet in his mind. That was it, Leo the werewolf. They had been searching for the dog for three days, they even made Cutler join the search which added to the fact that he was literally drowning in piled up work. He went to law school for God's sake! He was overqualified for running around town, turning stones and getting shouted at by humans. Hal had minions for this kind of drudgery.

And in the end all they had had to show for their troubles were rumours of a naked black man stealing clothes out of a bin in some disgusting back yard in Barry after the full moon night. Nothing after that. He seemed to have vanished into thin air, like a ghost.

But he must have lingered in Barry for a while because one night shortly after full moon Hal went out to talk to some business partner or other and never came back. No human could have taken out the mighty Hal Yorke, no vampire would dare to even try and ghosts usually had other problems so that only left werewolves. They were a force to be reckoned with, Nick understood that, but many other vampires didn't. All they saw where humans turning furry once a month. Something amusing but basically harmless if you stayed out of their way on full moon nights. Nick knew there was more to them than that. And most dangerous by far was their knowledge of vampires and their ability to recognise them. Werewolves were stronger and faster than the humans they had once been, they were more nimble and definitely had less to loose. The most dangerous creature is the wounded and cornered one and that was the case with most werewolves.

Cutler was secretly blaming himself for Hal's death. Usually he accompanied Hal to business meetings as his legal advisor but sometimes Hal would forbid it and not even allow any of his dumb-as-bricks henchmen to play bodyguard. Even Fergus who usually was practically glued to Hal's backside had to stay behind. Cutler had been trying to talk Hal out of this meeting. It was an unnecessary risk with a werewolf on the loose that had any reason to want them all dead. He even had tried pleading and bargaining which drove Fergus into fits of cruel laughter but Hal would not be swayed. Finally Nick had given up and he had watched Hal drive away with a sinking feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.

Cutler had stayed at Stoker's all night, trying in vain to take his mind off his worrying by writing a statement for his latest client. He gave up after he had to restart the first page for the third time because he had absentmindedly written "When Mr. Jones walked the shotgun he always took his dog as protection against robbers." Before that it had been "A high number of rubberies" and before that "an increase in violet crime". He just could not concentrate on making Mr. Joneses shot at a homeless man out of boredom seem like self defence. The homeless guy wasn't even dead. He was enjoying warmth and free meals in a hospital waiting for the wounds the shotgun pellets left on his arse to heal.

Throwing down his pen Cutler had started pacing while sipping from a glass of blood without really tasting it. He looked at his watch every few minutes but no matter how far along their way the hands moved Hal didn't return.

And now with Hal being unofficially declared proper dead somebody had to take care of his affairs. Transfer his sizable fortune to accounts the community could use, sell or redistribute his properties and make sure all loose ends are tied up properly. Hal had been very well known in the human world so Cutler had to make up believable stories for his human contacts who didn't know about vampires and inform the ones who did of Mr. Yorks passing.

Of course as legal representative all that work fell to Nick. Everyone kept on bugging him about wanting this townhouse or being owed that exact amount of money and Cutler did his best to give everyone what they wanted just so they would leave him alone. While he was at it he sat aside a good portion of Hal's money for his private use through untraceable channels. He saw it as his inheritance.

Cutler spent a week falsifying Hal's signature, forging wills and generally lying and conning the banks into doing what he needed them to do. It was nearly too easy, like stealing from a child. He now and then stumbled across strange transactions to bank accounts he didn't know about, all within the last few weeks before Hal's death but Nick decided to ignore them, no use second guessing a dead man's financial follies.

While he was still thinking of the most effective use for a crumbling old warehouse Hal had owned at the docks a young recruit, not older than 20 when he'd been bitten about a year ago, shyly walked up to Nicks table. "Mr, Cutler, sir, I know you're terribly busy, but Fergus said…well…I think you're the only one who can sort this out for me. Only if you've got the time sir, I can see you're really busy", he stammered never meeting Cutlers eyes and nervously kneading the rim of his hat. Cutler put on his best trust-me-I'm-on-your-side smile and told the nervous lad to sit down and tell him about his troubles. It didn't matter that Hal Yorke was proper dead business had to go on as usual, he had a community to keep secret after all.