Chapter 9: Thief!
Rocky was walking through the wrong side of town at night. He was well prepared to fight off anyone he needed to, but he was hopeful that the only man he was worried about would be so drunk that he couldn't stand. In fact, he wasn't that inebriated...but he was unusually close. Rocky stepped towards the man he knew to be the thief.
"Hhey, you...guy...don...don' get so clooze...ta meeee" Virgil swung an arm, clearly a little more plastered than he typically was.
"Howdy there, Virgil!" Rocky slammed Virgil up against a wall to let him know that A.) he'd lost and B.) he was being serious. "Word on the street is you stole some hooch. Got any idea on the whereabouts of said hooch?"
"I's...you...wait, you shteal...hoosh…" Virgil responded.
"No, I buy the hooch, and send it somewhere else. I'm more of a storefront for a wholesaler of illegal goods! You're more of...well, a thief. Just a plain old thief."
"Oh...the barrels? Yikesh whatzzz...in those?"
"Beer! Stolen beer. That YOU stole. Take me to it."
"I...never stole nothin'...occifer."
"You mean Officer, and you really mean ROCKY."
"I's...yer Rocky? No, Rocky doeshn't...have a head...gash...kinda...jooooob?"
Rocky just felt a little frustrated at this point, and slapped Virgil. He'd thought it would do something but Virgil just sort of stayed still. "Virgil? Did you even feel that? You're so far gone, I wonder if you're able to feel anyth-"
"Ow!" The delayed reaction gave him all the answer he needed.
"What are you even drinking, anyhow? Must be a good time!"
"Itsh...the beer I shtoleIMEANDIDN'Tsteal…"
Rocky laughed. "Okay, bronco, just take me to the goods and I'll unhand you! There were 3 of them, remember? Barrel shaped?" Rocky outlined a barrel with his hands. "They look like that, remember?"
Virgil nodded and put on a stupid grin. "I...only have haffa one left…"
"Virgil, you DRANK 2 and a half barrels of beer in one night!?" Rocky was stunned.
"No, I...sold it...and lost th'money at the tracks today...so I got sad and stole some back…" Rocky was now at least making headway. He remembered 3 barrels, and he even stole one of them twice over. He was clearly at least learning, that's for sure. "Can you take me to this half of a barrel?"
"Yer not..turnin me over...are ya?"
"For stealing something that's illegal to make anyhow? Hardly. Just take me to it."
"Shore." He took him back to a 1 room apartment, with a few cabinets, a bed, and a barrel. Must've been stolen, as it was the only thing that wasn't caked in dust in the whole room. "So, uh...you sold it?"
"Yep...marigold...guy." Virgil laid on the bed. "What'd this 'marigold guy' look like? Did he happen to have pince nez glasses and an evil glare? Black fur?"
"The...glare? Yeah, the glare. No *hic* glasses...white fur, big red streak across…*hic* his face." Rocky's expression suddenly got more serious. "You said he was a marigold guy?"
"Said he liked th'marigold, he's...not shtaff."
"I see." He patted Virgil's head. "Well, the good news is you can keep the booze."
"Great newzz!"
"And you've helped me to locate someone. Now sleep before you get arrested."
Rocky left without another word, trying to get back to the Daisy before the real dangerous people got out. He managed to get back by around 8 in the evening. He knocked on Mitzi's office door. "Miss Mitzi! I have some lovely news!" He almost sang, his cooing voice starting at the door and ending in the chair as he sat in it. "Oh, do you now, Rocky? What is it?" Mitzi asked.
"I found out who got the Healy's beer and where Eric Holmes likes to hang out."
"What? Where does he go?"
"Marigold. He wanted some different beer, Virgil needed some money, he got in with him somehow."
"How did Eric Holmes get tied up with Virgil?"
"Beats me, must've been at the race track, Virgil likes to lose every cent of his money there from time to time."
"Hmm. We'd better let Mordecai know-"
"Mordecai? You mean to tell me Count Hellacula's working on this one?"
"Under Asa's nose, too. He must want to help Calvin out. Either that or he wants to rub it in Asa's face that he works for who he wants…"
"I see! Letting him know just why people fear the Marigold's 'backroom staff', eh?" Rocky grinned and proudly put his legs up on the arm of the chair. "So, we're calling Mordecai? We still know how to reach him?"
"Of course." Mitzi picked up the phone.
Meanwhile, Calvin had just come home from another evening with Ivy. he wasn't up to dance tonight. He came home and looked around. No one there. "Ma?" He called in the living room. "Ma?" He shouted down to the cellar. Nothing...save for a note on the counter.
'Calvin,
Your uncle James in Boston sent for me to help clean out his father's estate. You'll probably be on your own for a few weeks. You're grown, it won't be an issue. Ronan from Ireland came today, he says he wants to speak to you. -Nina'
Well, that was a predicament. He was more than capable of taking care of himself. He might even have Ivy over a while; share a house for a few days, see what it's like. He smiled at the thought. But Ronan did want to see him, and he figured that would be important. He rushed over to his side of town, walking swiftly and ending up right at his apartment door. He knocked on the door. "Ronan? Ronan, it's Cal!" He knocked a bit more, fearing the worst...Eric didn't get to him, did he?
He heard the door open and was pulled inside. "SHH!" Ronan said quickly and sternly. "Quiet...the walls are thin here, Cal." Calvin nodded. "What happened?" Ronan handed him a note, written quickly and scribbled down.
'Ronan-
You and your wife are next. EH'
Calvin gagged. Two notes already, and none of them good. He shook his head. "Ronan…" He sighed. "Where's Alice?"
"She left on the train this morning. She went to Chicago, she has a friend up there."
"I see...ma left on a train for my aunt this morning."
"Has to be unrelated, he doesn't even know you've got a mother."
"I wasn't saying it was related, it's just...strange."
"Calvin." Ronan put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you any closer to getting rid of him?" Calvin nodded. "We're getting the-"
"My wife's In bleedin' Chicago, Cal! I'm gettin' death threats and I swear I see the man everywhere now!" He sighed and collapsed onto the wall. "I just...get rid of him soon."
Calvin nodded and picked Ronan up. "C'mere." He hugged Ronan tight, patting his back and sighing. "You'll be fine."
"I better be, Calvin, i just got here." Calvin started out the door. "Ronan?"
"Aye?"
"We might need some help from you at some point. Just be ready."
"Aye." Ronan walked over to the door and shut it behind Calvin. Both were tense. A death threat? How did he know he was even married? Did he know about Calvin's mom? Did he know about Ivy? Calvin sighed and got home, to hear his phone ringing. He picked it up. "Calvin?" It was Mordecai. "I've been waiting nearly a minute and a half. What took you so long?"
"I was seeing Ronan, sorry...what is it?"
"Rocky got some information about Eric Holmes. He frequents the Marigold. I'm going to have a word with him tomorrow night."
"Hurry." Calvin whispered. Mordecai almost audibly recoiled on the other end. "I beg your pardon? Did you tell me to hur-"
"Ronan got a...death threat. Today." Calvin almost shouted, but calmed himself. Mordecai was silent for a moment. "Did it mention his wife?"
"It did." More silence. Mordecai sighed. "I have a commitment tonight. But tomorrow should be safe. Most people don't follow up on those immediately-at least I don't." Mordecai wrote something down. "Goodnight, Calvin."
"Goodnight."
Mordecai hung up. Great. The last thing he needed to deal with was a death threat. But he had his own matters to attend to; Asa had sent him on another mission. He wasn't going to be late.
Calvin sat up for quite some hours, leaning on a window sill and looking out at his yard. He remembered playing out there with Rocky when he was a boy, and writing under the tree that was just starting to bud again. He thought about times when life was much more simple; when his job wasn't so horrifying, when everything he loved wasn't in danger. He tried hard not to think about it, but it's difficult to shake the feeling of doom and dread. Would he make it in time?
He could only hope so.
