Okee, detective Spike, hot on the trail! Follow along as he sticks his big nose in Faye's biznas (that's "business" to all you non-thugs out there) for no other reason than he's a bored, obsessive, psycho. And I'm forcing him.
Faye was getting more and more tangled up in her lies. Her explanation of why Vicious had a gun was ludicrous. Vicious wasn't the type who would just up and change weapons because he got a little nervous. He didn't get nervous. If Faye had claimed she'd placed the gun in Vicious' hand to throw Spike off her trail, that'd be one thing. The fact that she didn't use that excuse was suspicious in itself. Lying was the one thing Faye particularly excelled at. Spike concluded that Faye probably didn't use the obvious excuse because it was, in fact, the actual truth – she hadn't wanted Spike to find out that she'd killed Vicious. The question that remained was why. Why did Faye kill Vicious? If he could answer that question, Spike felt that everything else would become clear.
there is somethin' goin'
down in that room
there is somethin'
goin' down there
much too late to call it
but I have suspicion
there's a smokin' gun
and a smell in the air…
of lies, lies, lies and other stories
lies, lies, lies to feed the fire
a pretty face will tell pretty lies
a sweet caress can make them
hard to resist
the priestly and presidential
are no more immune
when the chips are down
it's the same ol' tune…
lies, lies, lies and other stories
lies, lies, lies to feed the fire
there's no escape
there is no where to hide
from the harlequin voice
of your earthly desires
oh, tell me secrets
I will tell you no lies
save for the ones
as the truth disguised
yeah, there is somethin'
goin' down in that room
there is somethin'
goin' down there
much too late to call it
but I have suspicion
there's a smokin' gun
and a smell in the air…
of lies, lies, lies and other stories
lies, lies, lies to feed the fire…
telling those lies…and other stories
"Name?"
"Uh, Spike Spiegel. I was here just a few days ago – "
"Take a seat over there and I'll let Mr. Almez know that you're here," the receptionist interrupted in a bored tone, studying her long red nails critically. Spike shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled over to the plush, black leather couch she'd indicated. Instead of sitting down, he leaned back and regarded a painting hanging above the couch with raised eyebrows. It depicted a large white tiger crouched over the body of a red dragon, it's long, scaly neck hanging limply in the tiger's jaw.
"Well this is new," Spike remarked.
"Yep, it just arrived today. How do you like it, Spike, my boy?" Almez, a short, stout man with a large black mustache stepped forward to stand beside Spike, hands folded behind his back.
"It's…" Spike floundered. "Uh, very striking." Almez nodded eagerly.
"Yes, it marks the downfall of the Red Dragon and the rise of the White Tiger. All thanks to you, of course. Say, would you like me to have one made up for you?"
"No, no, that's fine," Spike said hastily. "Actually I was hoping you could provide me with some information. Ever heard of Faye Valentine?"
*
Spike felt that there was something wrong with Faye's story on Vicious' death, but after their little chat in the bathroom, he was sure of it. Something weird was going on and he planned to figure it out. The first step was to recall everything thing she'd said to him on his return to the Bebop. Faye was pretty guarded but she loved to hear herself talk and often let a few tidbits of truth mix in with the lies. So Spike's task was to discover what was true, and what was bullshit. He decided that the easiest thing to verify was her claim of 'past discrepancies' with the White Tiger Syndicate.
*
"Faye?" Almez growled, bushy black eyebrows narrowing dangerously. "You a friend of hers?"
"Maybe," Spike said carefully. Okay, so maybe she was telling the truth about this one…
"Well tell her to drop her sexy ass by once in awhile!" Almez roared, grinning broadly. "The boys miss her like crazy!"
"What exactly do they miss about her?" Spike asked delicately.
"Saturday night poker games, of course," Almez scoffed. "You must not be very close friends if you think she's that kind of girl." Spike stared in disbelief. "Oh, I know what you're thinking – those tight little outfits she wears, right?" Almez jostled him with an elbow. "But Faye's just a woman who knows what she wants, and what it takes to get it."
"So… You have no 'past discrepancies' with her?"
"Aw, hell no. I mean, sure she relieved my men of a week's worth of pay every Saturday, no doubt playing by her own set of rules, but if they didn't mind, why should I?"
"Thanks for your time, Mr. Almez," Spike said politely, turning to leave.
"Sure thing, my boy. Hey, if you see her, be sure to tell Faye that Vicious is dead." Spike stopped.
"Any particular reason?"
"She'll probably want to come over and dance on his grave," Almez chuckled. "Faye hated that guy even more than I did."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"From what I hear, the bastard kidnapped her and used her to lure out some other jerk."
"Oh really," Spike said sourly. "Didn't that 'jerk' end up saving her ass?"
"Yeah, something like that," Almez said dismissively.
"Sounds merely inconvenient, not grounds for hatred."
"Oh, I agree. If that is indeed the whole story."
"What do you mean?" Almez sighed.
"You're a nice kid, Spike, but a little naïve." Spike raised his eyebrows expressively.
"If you're saying what I think you're saying – "
"Look, my informant insisted that Faye was alone with Vicious for hours before this other guy finally showed up. Regardless of how you feel about her personality, Faye is one incredibly attractive woman. And Vicious is – was – the most ruthless, twisted individual in existence. You do the math."
"Vicious isn't motivated by human emotions, such as lust; he lost all trace of humanity long ago," Spike said firmly.
"That just confirms it," Almez said quietly. "Rape is one action that requires a certain lack of humanity." Spike processed this information, stunned into silence. I never even considered the possibility… He tried to recall her face, her demeanor directly after the Cathedral. Of course, he'd been unconscious for three days, but she had seemed fine to him. Same old obnoxious Faye. Spike felt a hand rest on his shoulder.
"Hey, it's just a theory I came up with," Almez said kindly. "My informant was rather unclear on that subject. Vicious ordered everyone out of the room, so no one really knows what went on in there. Except for Faye, and I'm willing to bet she'll be rather close-lipped about the whole thing." Almez smiled jokingly. "Anyway, you're a nice guy, Spike. Faye might not admit it, but she needs a guy like you to look out for her. Take care of her, won't you?" Spike hunched his shoulders and nodded guiltily. Almez clapped him on the back.
"Good! Drop by anytime, my boy!"
"Just one more question!" Spike called after the syndicate leader's retreating form. Almez paused, looking at him expectantly.
"Who's this 'informant'?"
Lyrics by Rob Birdwell, titled "Lies and Other Stories." Thanks to all those who reviewed last time…and for those who didn't, listen to my super-fly song:
Pretty puh-lease review,
I'll love ya if you do,
I'll think you're real coo'
If you don't I'll throw poo…
Right at YOU!
That makes you want to say nice things about me and my fic, right? Riiight…