Chapter 23
In the field of police work, there were two great obstacles in the path of justice: criminals, and city hall.
That was the world, as McGarnagle saw it. And, walking as he was towards City Hall - it's looming walls haphazardly and illegally meshed with the outer fence of the Police Station - he saw very little reason to change his mind that morning.
"Have a good shift?!" the gate guard cheerfully greeted from her post as they passed through into the courtyard.
"Terrible!" Melva answered with a bright smile of her own.
McGarnagle was dour, hunched forward, as he scowled out from beneath the brim of his hat.
"Jeez, you could at least make an effort, ya know!" Melva commented around the popsicle stick running out of her mouth. "We're finally going after your White Whale, after all. I thought you'd be a bit more cheerful."
"The gate guard shouldn't have let us in without an ID. Could've been impostors," McGarnagle groused.
"Oh, come on, McGarnagle, no criminal could possibly impersonate your beaming personality, you know that."
"This isn't a laughing matter."
"Well, are you planning to go back and demand a background check on yourself?"
"...Later."
And, in McGarnagle's words, for the first time, Melva could sense that trying impatience which had driven them across the city to HQ. All around her, she could see the various groups chattering away with a note of energy.
Units were scattered throughout the lot, chattering, and all of them about the same topic. By now, everyone had heard about the recent Attack on Schnee manor, and the current topic of discussion revolved around what piece of the action they might be able to grab for themselves.
Of course, Melva felt very little anxiety as to what position she'd be getting. McGarnagle had quite a bit of influence over matters of local policing, and had staked a firm claim on anything Schnee related. It was, what those in the industry called, "dibs". And, to her surprise, being new here, it was a request the department respected. Of course, this was also to her chagrin since it meant they ended up getting swamped with regular floods of unaccountable accounting data from various Schnee subsidiaries, but hey, she thought it brought a lot of character to the place.
So of course they'd be getting the case. This was practically made for them. And no one had any cause to deny it. Well, except for some people, Melva supposed, and, would you look at that, here comes one of them now.
"Hey there, McGarnagle!" Graz smiled, saluting casually from the top step of the police station entrance.
"Hey," Melva felt her own smile dim at the sight, even as she stopped for the necessary fifteen seconds of small talk. McGarnage, shivering with impatience, stopped alongside her.
"What, too good to respond, McGarnagle?" Graz tilted her head to look under his hat, speaking all the while with an impersonal friendliness.
"You seem cheerful," Melva intervened, hoping to stop another incident.
"Well, why wouldn't I be? I just got the Schnee case, after all."
Chang!
Melva could hear McGarnagle's fist clamp closed at his side, a pained tearing assaulting the fabric of his gloves.
"Yeah, It's great news isn't it," Graz continued, apparently unheeding of the stone silence which had taken over the pair. "All I had to do was ask for it too! Oh, and I'd love to invite you over McGarnagle, but apparently you're being sent over to Kostrova this month? Sucks to be you, I guess, but Chiefs orders! Anyway, I'm sure you've got a lot to take care of, ta-ta!" And, with a flourish and a wave, Graz all but skipped merrily past them.
This news came as a surprise to Melva.
Still, despite its novelty, Melva had a feeling she knew exactly what was going to happen next.
"This is criminal!" McGarnagle said, pounding on the chief's desk, and causing droplets of coffee to splatter up out of the ceramic mug which had made its home comfortably among the various photographs and paperweights that littered the wood-top.
"The Schnees are my responsibility, and this is my case!" McGarnagle stepped back up from the desk, pacing dangerously back and forth across the lantern.
Chief Vermillion, to his credit, bore the tirade with all the composure that could be expected of a deafer man. And he replied, calm: "No, this isn't your case, McGarnagle, and it isn't your responsibility. We're running a police force, here, not a detective agency, so save the territorial boasting, would you?" Vermillion ran a hand along the bushy grey of his mustache as he spoke.
And, all through the sentence, Vermillion could see McGarnagle puffing up as he paused in his pacing, facing away from the Cheif, measuring his words.
"Do your promises really carry so little weight?" A powerful disdain colored McGarnagle's words, one which only grew as he whipped about to face the man. "I followed all your rules, Chief. All those years I spent working like a dog out in the streets only to come back here to watch you play politician! And I only asked for one thing!"
"And you have gotten it, McGarnagle." Vermillion was adamant. "I've sent you every reported crime and suspected wrongdoing of the SDC. I've even dug into Jaques' personal history. And trust me, it cost me no small amount of capital to supply you with that!"
McGarnagle turned away with a hot flourish, words rattling with rage. "Oh, you've always been in Schnee's pocket, Chief, but I never thought you'd take it to this."
"Are you accusing me of backing off my word!" Vermillion was a little more strongly worded now, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. "I've given you everything there is to give!"
"You've given me nothing! Rumors and forgotten tax records! You never actually thought you'd be in a position to actually deliver on your promise, did you? So, when the metal actually comes to the fire, you give Graz the case and send me out to the tundra!"
"I know you and Graz have had your differences, but she's a competent officer. And she'll follow all necessary procedure, unlike you!"
"She won't even do the necessary research!" McGarnagle was gnashing his teeth. "Have you even seen her case plan? She's not even going to investigate Jaques!"
"She's not going to investigate Jaques, because this is an investigation against the White Fang, McGarnagle. I've promised to give you all crimes reported against the SDC, but this goes far beyond the bounds of our agreement. Remember, that Jaques is a potential victim in this case, I can't have you running around snooping through his personal records when we're supposed to be catching a real criminal!"
"Jaque is a real criminal, and you're a man too blinded by greed to see it!" McGarnagle's voice seemed to fill the office, and strain under the weight of it's effort. "If this were any other person in Atlas, and we'd be investigating! But, you've got too much money coming from the man to do it!"
Vermillion felt his words scatter, but mustered a calming breath.
"Mr. Schnee is a patron of the police forces, but that does not compromise our promise-"
"Would you stop!" McGarnagle interrupted, "I'm sick and tired enough of your speeches when you make them to the critters in Ciry Hall! And I'm sick and tired of you, chief! You're a corrupt, decadent old man, who would have done more good retiring to philosophy alley than running any police force!"
Vermillion, having felt his old heart rate spiking up, lost his calming breath.
"That's it, McGarnagle! You're off the case!"
"I wasn't on the case to begin with!"
"Then you're off every case, McGarnagle! You're suspended! I don't want you within fifty miles of any investigation, and if I see you anywhere near this station or the Schnee manor, you're lammed! Now, get out of my office!
"You know, I haven't been to Atlas in so long, it almost feels like a different city up here!" Velma noted, looking up at the series of brightly lit skyscrapers clustered about the land.
McGarnagle was silent, stalking with heavy footsteps beside the woman.
"I take it the chief didn't give you the case," She guessed, pulling the lollipop out of her mouth, and twirling it deftly between her fingers in a neon blur.
"No," McGarnagle confirmed, "he didn't."
"And, I take it you managed to get us banned from getting within a mile of Schnee manor while the investigation is going on?"
"Fifty miles."
"Oooh, that's a new record, I think."
"Might be," McGarnagle said.
"So, considering that," Melva said, "I have to ask: what are we doing at the Schnee manor?"
To highlight the question, she deftly stuck her lollipop in the direction ahead of her, pointing out the rising, outer walls of the Schnee manor as they rose up to greet them.
And, piled around the walls like ant hills, were various police setups, ranging from tents to modified bullheads, and with various uniformed officers crawling around ferrying cameras and other investigative materials back and forth across the front courtyard.
"Hmm, the main gates are open," Melva noted with a curious tone.
McGarnagle, true to form, kept walking boldly forward.
"So, we're sneaking in, then? Is that it?"
"It's… suspicious that Jaques had four minutes of silence in his office before the alarms went off. Doesn't seem like Taurus would wait that long if he was really just there to kill him."
"What are you saying?'
"I'm saying it bears more investigation. Something big has happened, and I'm not content to ignore it."
Before Melva could respond, a voice called.
"McGarnagle! McGarnagle!"
It was a voice of malice mixed with happiness. It was Graz's voice.
Near the edge of the Schnee gate, inside the open body of a parked bullhead, Graz pulled herself away from the team of officers working on a computer, hopping out of the wide open sides and jogging over the cluttered turf with a "you're in so much trouble, now" expression.
All across the field, and up in the battlements, sharp attention was drawn to the scene.
"Stick close," McGarnagle whispered. And Melva complied, pressing herself up against the battered folds of his overcoat.
And, noting the distance, taking a breath, McGarnagle activated his semblance.
And the shadows lengthened over his figure, darkening and stretching themselves unnaturally over him, highlighting his features like a painted landscape at eventide. In every way, he seemed a walking embodiment of fiction. Yet, he was real, and he had the figure of someone trusted, someone true.
Just reaching them now, Graz slowed in her jog, blinking her eyes rapidly and shaking her head. "Oh uh… sorry about that, man!" she said, apologizing genuinely. "I just… I'm not sure, I guess I must've mistaken you for someone."
"It's no issue," McGarnagle growled back, walking slowly past her. The rest of the public turned back to their business, losing interest in the scene.
"Wait!" The sudden call from behind prompted him to stop. Turning back, he saw Graz looking over with a concerned expression.
"Yes?"
"Do me a favor, will ya? Keep an eye out for McGarnagle for me. He's not supposed to be here, and isn't one to play nice with the locals."
"I'll be sure to do that."
They were in the inner recesses of the castle.
In every corner, internal security teams could be seen rifling, door by door, through every crevice and hallway of the Manor.
And, it was here that McGarnagle dismissed the shadow, the dark aura receding to its more subdued form.
"You're putting it down," Melva noted.
"We're already inside, they'll assume we're with the rest of the investigation team."
"Seriously, I've seen you hold that shadow for hours, why are you putting it down now?" Melva looked nervously about her, noting the overabundance of castle staff that seemed to have concentrated themselves in the immediate vicinity.
"Later," McGarnagle said, pulling her aside to hide flush against a wall.
"What?"
"I can see him. He's in his office."
"Yeah," Melva said with a perfectly obvious tone, "I imagine they'd want to move him back there after a security sweep."
"I need to look in that office. That's where the attack happened." McGarnagle's voice was hushed, dream like, in fact.
"Yeah, but he's in the office," Melva retorted.
"You go look through the rest of the castle. Try to ask around for more information."
"You're going to go into the office aren't you?"
"If he kicks me out, I need you on the inside. Go through the rest of the castle."
"Fine," Melva said with annoyed murmurs, and drifted back into an interceding hallway.
McGarnagle meanwhile, could see the bright interior of the office shining before him, a beacon of danger, but also of opportunity. Well, if that was a beacon, then McGarnagle was a moth. Still, he was a self aware moth, if nothing else, and knew of the monster that lay in wait for him there. And, as he trudged up to the office, the thought came: how would Mr. S greet him? Of course, they'd had occasion to meet before, but the initial greeting always somehow managed to remain a surprise.
Mr. Schnee had always been calm, even when things didn't go his way, but he was always, at times, surprisingly heated. He'd called him jackass, fool, failure and many other things one doesn't find in gentleman's dictionaries, but, still, he never failed to prelude those insults with a proper greeting of some sort. Of course, on the whole, Mister Schnee was most always civil, and usually he referred to him by his name, "McGarnagle", just like everyone else did.
This time, however, as he walked into the office, the greeting was more of a surprise than usual.
"Hello officer!" Mr. S said with a boy-scout smile. "How can I help you today?"
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