No Rest for the Wicked
Chapter 1: Partners
Disclaimer: I do NOT own L.A Noire or Rockstar. I also do not own Team Bondi, who did an amazing job on this game! I don't own any of the characters except for my OCs of course. If I did own the rights, Roy would have got what was coming to him, and I would have changed the ending a bit…Anyways, lol, I hope you all enjoy this! :) Oh and by the way, this story is rated M for all themes! Yeah, that's right, violence, language, sexual themes, and stuff like that! :P
Sunset Boulevard seemed to radiate with an aura of glamour even more so now that the sun was started to dip below Beverly Hills. The Hollywood Land sign fed off the energy of the city from its view in the hills, bringing forth the change of day life to that of life at night.
Cole Phelps was quiet as his mind thought back on the recent case he and his partner, Roy Earle, closed. Roy was driving his red Cadillac Series 63 Convertible down the busy boulevard with the top down, and so Cole enjoyed the September breeze and the quiet. He could faintly hear the Andrew Sisters singing on the radio, but Roy had it turned down so they could talk or hear KGPL.
Cole's transition to Vice desk from Homicide had proven to be a bit more difficult to adjust to than from when he went from Traffic to Homicide. Mostly, it seemed to be due to his partner. Roy had his own way of doing things. He was much more aggressive than Rusty or Stefan, which Cole could approve except that it had already got them into trouble. Their personalities clashed. Though Cole had only been in Vice for barely two weeks, he knew it was going to take awhile for him and Roy to find a medium in order to work together efficiently. He remembered how it had been hard to work with Rusty some days in Homicide. The older detective was set in his ways, and it had caused them to clash a few times, especially Rusty's tendency to speak his mind so bluntly. But Cole and Rusty had ended up holding a deep respect for each other, and Cole could call the man his friend. Stefan Bekowsky had been his easiest partner to get along with so far, but that was a given for Bekowsky's laid-back personality. He was open to new things, had been a great teacher for Cole, and had proven to be very loyal. Given that Bekowsky and Cole were almost the same age, that had to make it easier. Then again, Cole had found it easier to get along with his partner Ralph Dunn on Patrol when he was in uniform, and with Harold Caldwell for the short time he was in Burglary. Though Dunn had been a stiff at times, he was a good guy. And Caldwell was just as loyal and easy-going as Bekowsky.
Roy Earle was a completely different story. Cole now understood Stefan's words to him on his first day in Traffic about Roy when he had asked if all Vice cops dressed like movie stars. Bekowsky had answered him that Roy was a movie star, and the whole seedy side of Hollywood was his audience. At the time, Cole didn't understand his partner's words. But now that he had learned and experienced, and climbed the ladder and was now working with Roy, he knew what it meant. Roy was a dirty cop. This worried Cole the most. He didn't know how he was going to be able to work like this. He wasn't just dirty; he was vain, cocky, sardonic, and highly cynical. It completely clashed with Cole, especially Roy's lack of respect for others.
But, if they were going to work together as partners dealing with drugs, prostitution, illegal gambling, and mobsters then they were going to have to get along and trust each other. It would be a working process, but Cole had survived worse through his time in Okinawa. His days as a Marine ended with the war, but that didn't stop Cole from moving forward.
"Alright, I can't take it anymore. Will you open your mouth and say something already?" Roy grumbled as he stopped the car at a red light.
Cole watched the traffic on the other side of the intersection move on for a moment. He even watched a trolley bus run along on its track, filled with passengers.
"Sorry, just thinking," Cole answered. "Where are you taking me again?"
"You sure do think a lot," Roy snorted, giving a half-smirk. Once the light turned green, they were in motion again. "The Brown Derby, if I can ever get onto Vine Street with this damn traffic."
After they had finished their recent case concerning the death of a man who overdosed on the Army surplus morphine that was still turning up, Roy had insisted on going for a drink. Cole had took him up on the offer because he knew it would be good for morality, and be good for them to get to know each other better, but also because he didn't want to go home to more stress. He and Marie had gotten into an argument when he got home late last night while still trying to solve the case. As much as Cole loved his wife, he already had to deal with too much stress in Vice, but she just couldn't understand it. Between the death of his good friend Hank Merrill, Sugar Loaf, and all those civilians weighed heavily on his conscience. Cole was starting to believe that Marie felt she no longer was married to the same man he was before the war. He had to deal with the inner demons every second of the day, but she could just not understand.
"Brown Derby, huh? I've never been actually," Cole stated.
"Not surprised. You don't seem like you get out much, Cole," Roy snorted. "Keep your eyes peeled though while we're there. Might get to see a movie star."
Cole sighed. "Right, as if you don't rub shoulders with them enough."
"Funny thing about movie stars is that they're about as shitty as everyone else, except they have more money," Roy said, turning onto Vine Street finally. He drove the Cadillac north.
"Why am I not surprised to hear you say that?" Cole quipped.
Roy chuckled. "Ehh, you'll find out soon enough. Hang with a few of them and you'll realize they are about as shallow and fake as the characters they portray onscreen."
Cole looked to his partner incredulously. "And what is it exactly that you have against everyone?"
"I didn't say I had anything against anybody. If I had the choice, I would switch places with a movie star in a heartbeat. They get everything handed to them on a silver platter. And they get to choose when they want to work and when they don't. On top of being rich, I must say that would be the life."
Roy pulled into a parking space once in the parking lot of the famous restaurant in the back. The large cream colored building was two stories tall, stylized as a Spanish-Mediterranean style building with a dark red trim around its doors and windows. The large sign sticking up above the roof was shaped like a man's derby hat, red with the gold lettering saying the name of the restaurant. It stood out on the whole block, and was full of all kinds of people. Cole shook his head at Roy's words and got out of the Cadillac, checking out the unique building with interest. Roy took off his fedora long enough to scratch his head before slipping it back on. He lit a cigarette and went to stand by Cole.
"See? Did that pushover or old, grumpy bulldog ever take you to places like this? I bet it was hard enough slumming it in that beat up old Nash, huh?" Roy asked, puffing on his cigarette.
"You still insist on calling them those names when they helped us out as much as they did during the Julia Randall case earlier this week?"
"Yeah, but who ended up solving the case?"
Cole heaved a sigh, letting it go, and started walking for the entrance. They walked around to the front, where there was a line extending from the main entrance. Cole knew it could take a few hours before even getting into the door. Before he could say anything to Roy before falling into the back of the line, his partner was heading towards the front.
"Aw c'mon, Phelps. You really think I'm gonna make you stand in line?"
Cole followed him to the front of the line, where a doorman was taking names. He was an older man, dressed finely for the restaurant in a beige suite with a blue tie. He looked up from his paper and pen upon seeing Roy cut in line.
"Excuse me, sir, but you are going to have to-"
"No, I don't think I have to. I'm on the VIP list, old man."
"Name, sir."
"Earle. Roy Earle. I'm gonna need a place in the back with all the other VIPs. I'm sure you can make that happen."
The doorman gritted his jaw, and barely dipped his head. "Yes, Mr. Earle. Go right ahead inside. You will be escorted to your desired area."
Roy smacked Cole's shoulder lightly, and the two men entered into the restaurant. A waitress escorted them into the back lounge area, where a bar and many tables were set up. A band was set up and performing while there was much laughter and talking going on from the VIP guests. Cole looked around curiously as they were brought to a table to sit down at. They ordered their drinks and were left alone.
"This is a very nice place," Cole stated, looking around. He caught sight of a very familiar and beautiful star. "Is that Betty Grable?"
Roy looked across the room, seeing the young blonde actress sitting with friends and enjoying their food and drink. She was dressed in a light blue dress, and she definitely stood out amongst most of the people here.
"Yep, that's her. The girl with the million dollar legs," Roy chuckled.
Their waitress brought them their drinks. Roy raised his glass to Cole, who was hesitant to raise his glass at first. They brought their glasses up to each other, and Roy grinned.
"To you, Cole. You are the pin-up girl of the whole LAPD."
Cole gave him an odd look. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Of course it is! Now, are we just gonna sit here with our glasses up in the air or are we going to drink…partner?"
Cole twitched a smile, dinging his glass against Roy's and the two men downed their drinks. The two men started talking. Roy knew just about everyone in the VIP lounge, and would point them out to Cole with stories. The clock passed its time, and it was well past midnight before Cole even got home.
The next morning, Cole had a headache from too many drinks, but he managed to pull into the Hollywood Police Department in his red Chrysler Town and Country and walk upstairs to the Vice meeting room. As soon as he entered the room, the ever bristly Lieutenant Archie Colmyer had a list of harsh words for the young detective.
"You're late, Phelps! Where's that no good lazy sack of shit of a partner you have?"
Cole checked his watch, grumbling that he was only five minutes late, but not about to argue with the Lieutenant about it. "Probably late as well, sir."
"Why am I not surprised? Get your ass into the briefing room. Roy better get here before I start talking or the both of you are gonna have to answer to Cafarelli. You don't want that, do ya Phelps?"
"No sir," Cole answered, biting his tongue and slipping past the older man.
He got into the briefing room, glancing at the few other Vice detectives goofing off and laughing. As soon as Archie walked through the door, they jumped into their seats and grew quiet like school children. Cole eased into his seat, twitchy and tapping his fingers onto his desk. He mentally cursed Roy, and urged him to get here fast.
Archie was going through some papers up in the front. Just as he was about to start talking, the door opened to the briefing room and in walked Roy with a smug smirk and a hot cup of coffee. He noticed the dirty look from Archie, but was sly on his way to sit down next to Cole.
"Morning, Arch! You're glowing today!"
Archie closed his eyes, as if taking a moment to count backwards from ten and not blow up. The papers he was holding got crumbled a bit, but he ended up starting his speech with a renewed sense of business.
"I'm going to make this quick. Rossi, you and Sommers have to follow up on the narcotics found stashed in the basement of Ciro's. I suggest you get over there pronto, boys."
Cole watched as detectives Theodore Rossi and his partner Graham Sommers got up from their seats and left the room without a word. Archie continued, glaring straight at Roy and Cole from his position in the front of the room.
"You two. I gave you guys something easy so you don't have to think so hard. Get you're asses to Selma Avenue. There's a hotdog stand that has been storing more of the Army Surplus morphine. I've got the suspects here, but I need you two boneheads to see if the uniforms missed anything. Now get!"
"Can I finish my coffee?" Roy asked innocently, very visibly trying to engage a reaction from his former partner.
"Roy!"
"Yeah, yeah, let's roll, Cole."
The two men left the briefing room, and Roy led the way downstairs to the exit where they found his Cadillac parked by Cole's Town and Country. As they headed for the much fancier car, Cole glanced to Roy.
"Do you purposely antagonize him?"
"Oh yes. I have to deal with his shit all the time, the least I can do is make it rough on him a bit. Cole, is this your car?"
"Yes," Cole stated slowly, already knowing that Roy was going to judge his selection in vehicles.
"Really? I pictured you more of a station wagon kinda guy. Well, I guess this is better than the usual Buick Super or Nash. Still, I think you could do better."
"Funny, Roy," Cole sighed, getting into the passenger side of Roy's Cadillac.
"Let's go get some morphine hotdogs. Can it be better than morphine popcorn? We are on a roll with morphine food this week!"
"You sound a little annoyed, Roy."
"Yeah, sick of dealing with this crap. Archie is doing this on purpose."
He put the car into gear, and they started for Selma Avenue in northern Hollywood. The two men were quiet in the morning hours, listening to Billie Holiday on the radio. They were about a block away from Selma Avenue, when KGPL called in. Roy immediately turned the music down, and grabbed the police radio.
"KGPL to car 11 King, respond."
"Yep, go on," Roy responded.
"You've been reassigned to head for west Hollywood Boulevard to a club called the Cat's Meow. Reports of a murdered male in his twenties carrying several syrettes of morphine . Homicide and Carruthers have already arrived and are in the process of investigating."
"Yay," Roy stated dully, and dropped the radio into the middle console.
Cole had to hold on as Roy suddenly jerked the Cadillac into a U-Turn in the middle of the street to head back towards west Hollywood. There came several annoyed honks from civilians and Roy flipped on the sirens.
"Guess it looks like we get to mingle with your buddies again. Aren't you excited?" Roy asked. "But I guess dealing with a dead lowlife full of drugs in a nightclub as fancy as the Cat's Meow is a lot better than morphine hotdogs."
"It makes things more interesting," Cole stated, nodding.
A/N: Alright! There's the first chapter! The second chapter should be longer, and will explain more on what's going on of course! Rusty and Bekowsky will be just as important to this story as Cole and Roy! (Bear with me Roy haters, hahaha) I just been wanting to write this forever, and now I am excited that I started! I also got an LA Noire parody in the works, and it should be posted soon! So, let me know what you guys think, k? I enjoyed writing this first chapter very much, so I hope it was an enjoyable read for you! Thanks again! :)
