Notes:
Today's menu consists of the first part of the fundraiser party chapter, and it's long, so please be forewarned. Notes on tropes are going to be posted in their own separate chapter from now on, so if you are interested, go to the very last chapter to find them :-)
This was going to end in a disaster. D just knew it.
For about the hundredth time, he adjusted his cheongsam while glaring at himself in the mirror. Tetsu groaned and turned over on the sofa. "You look good, Count."
"I know!" he snapped, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "My apologies. I am – a little strained."
"Sure. Strained."
Before he had time to snap again, the door was opened and he turned towards it, plastering on his smile.
It disappeared at the wholly unexpected sight of Leon Orcot in a form-fitting tuxedo. "You ready to go, D?"
His eyes travelled over the long, long legs, the broad chest encased in a white shirt and framed elegantly by the lapels of the jacket, up to where Leon was glaring at him from eyes that appeared even brighter with the black and white to offset their deep, rich blue.
"Yes," he said faintly, reaching for his purse and fan. "I am ready."
"Good." Leon turned on his heel and walked out of the door. D stood stunned for another moment until Pon-chan pushed him into the backs of his knees.
"Go already!" she ordered.
So he did. There was a taxi waiting out front, with Leon standing right beside it. D turned back to the door and pretended to lock it. It was mainly to keep himself from staring at Leon some more. By the time he had regained his composure, Leon had opened the door for him, but walked around the car to get into his own seat. D slipped into the seat, heart pounding and light-headed.
"You got that invitation with you?"
Silently, D handed it over and Leon leant forward to show the address to the driver. Within moments, they were off, swallowed up by the buzzing Rome traffic. Leon handed the invitation back to him. "You okay?"
D was jolted out of his stupor and cleared his throat. "Of course. Why should I not be alright?"
A shrug. "Dunno. You look kinda spooked."
He almost blurted out that anyone would be spooked at seeing Leon dressed up as he was now, but thought better of it. He had a feeling it would not come out the right way. Instead he put his smile back on and found his fan. "So -"
"Right, as what are you gonna introduce me?"
D sniffed, annoyed at having been interrupted. "Isn't it a bit late to come up with a cover story for you, De- Leon?"
"Late would be while you're introducing me. So, who am I?"
He fluttered his lashes. "Who would you like to be?"
Leon growled at him. "Stop playing games! This is a mission, so take it seriously!"
"Fine!" D patted at his hair. "It would be simplest to introduce you as an old acquaintance from my time in the United States. Which is the utter truth. You have come over here for a, ah, surprise visit, and not having been notified of your arrival beforehand, I took you along. Will that do?"
Leon snorted. "Surprise visit?"
"It is as close to the truth as possible." D retreated behind his haughty behaviour as much as he could, the effect slightly marred by the taxi jolting as their driver cursed colourfully in Italian at another driver. "As for your occupation, I suggest we skip that part."
"What if someone asks?"
"This was your idea in the first place. Why haven't you thought about it?" D replied, gladly falling back on vexation. Leon pondered for a moment, then grinned.
"Do people bring their aides to this kind of event?"
He blinked. "Why, yes, some of them do. After all, fundraisers are rarely only organised for the purpose they boast. They are as much business meetings as social events."
The grin grew. "Alright. I've come over to start working for you, then."
"What?"
Leon was smirking at him now and D willed his racing heart to calm down. "What? It's easy enough to explain. Someone my age, you can always chalk it up to wanting to see a bit more of the world before settling down. Having a pal who already works abroad is a prime opportunity to get out of the country for a bit."
"Signores?" The warning came a second to late. They were thrown against their seatbelts as the car came to a screeching stop. Their driver turned around and grinned at them. "We're arrived."
Leon muttered something akin to "We noticed" under his breath while D found his purse and paid. To his surprise, Leon opened the door and waited for him to get out. There were a number of other cars around, mostly limousines, and D thought for a fleeting moment that he should have arranged for one to pick them up as well. It had completely slipped his mind though, flustered as he had been by everything. They ascended the steps after a couple he recognised as South African by their garb and passed by the first pair of guards at the doors. Leon kept his face carefully blank, but once they were past, he let out a breath. "Lots of security. This won't be easy. Do you recognise any of them?"
"Why would I?" D smiled at the tastefully dressed lady asking the arrivals for their invitations and handed it over. She looked at a list and smiled. "Count D. Mr. Donald was not expecting you with a guest."
"I am so sorry, Signora. I must have forgotten."
She made a note and nodded at them. "The ballroom is straight through."
Leon had been busy taking in their new surroundings, and D contemplated elbowing him to keep him from staring too openly. However, a lady behind them was just gushing about the huge marble staircase leading up to the first floor, so he let it go. Leon's intense attention to the staircase in question could be ascribed to her outlining the architectural values of such a feature.
"How much's this place cost?" Leon mumbled in the corner of his mouth as they walked under the first-floor balcony and approached the winged, open doors into the main dining room of the house. D smiled.
"More than you will ever earn in your life. This palazzo is about 200 years old, modelled after a bishop's residence from Renaissance times."
There was another muttered remark that D could not quite make out, and then they were already entering the dining room, which really was more like a dining hall. Spencer Donald and his wife were strategically positioned close by the door, but not so close as to prevent their guests from taking in the grandeur of the marble columns lining the walls, the fresco paintings on the walls and the clouds of guests already milling about before meeting the master of the house. Leon drew a sharp breath and D glanced at him, but he was keeping his face neutral.
"Count D!" Spencer Donald himself was as much of a stereotypical American Conservative business tycoon as Leon was of a run-down detective, and for a moment, D was intensely amused at the thought of Leon's reaction to that comparison. He shook the proffered hand and smiled.
"Spencer. So kind of you to send me an invitation, and may I express my appreciation of your decor?"
He was rewarded with a broad grin. "Thank you, thank you. One does try, you know. You know my wife, of course."
D bent over the hand and tried not to gag at the perfume. "Signora, you are as charming as usual."
In truth, he held no great opinion of the failed starlet Spencer Donald was currently married to. It was not helped by the fact that when he rose, he found Leon looking at them rather intently. Spencer Donald turned to him. "I don't think we've met before."
Leon accepted the handshake, managing a tight smile which made D wonder how much it cost him. "Leon Orcot. Pleased to meet you."
"Spencer, please allow me to offer my apologies for bringing an unexpected extra guest," D cut in smoothly, placing a hand on Leon's arm and cutting the handshake rather short. "He is an old friend from the States, come over to visit me. I confess I forgot about it when I sent the RSVP."
Spencer Donald looked at the two of them, at D's hand still touching Leon's arm where it now hung loosely at his side, and smirked. "My dear Count, no need to apologise. I am always happy to meet friends of yours, especially if they happen to be American. Mr. Orcot, let me introduce you to my wife, Shanice."
The smile was a little warmer this time and D wanted to step on Leon's foot. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Donald."
She tittered, her eyes flitting between them as well. "Welcome to our house, Mr. Orcot. Please feel at home."
"Thank you."
"Indeed, Count, I can only second Shanice." Spencer Donald was speaking more quietly now, more to D than to Leon, but there was no doubt that he could hear the next words as well. "And please consider yourself free to leave at any time. I would not want to keep you from enjoying such a delightful visitor."
Leon stared at him, D bit down on his tongue and managed to keep his smile going. "You are too scrupulous, Spencer. I assure you, Mr. Orcot considers himself very lucky to be able to attend tonight."
To D's great relief, Leon turned to follow him without a word and waited until they were safely out of hearing range before hissing, "What the hell was that about?"
D found his fan and opened it. "Leon, you are not stupid, despite your best attempts to make the world believe you are. You know exactly what he was implying."
Leon glowered. "And just how did he get that idea? Who've you been hooking up with around here?"
D returned the look defiantly. "Really, considering everything you know about me, do you still subscribe to the notion that I would ever wish to engage in that kind of relationship with a human?"
It took Leon a moment longer than D would have expected to answer, and the subject change was unexpected as well. "So, did you recognise any of the guards?"
D blinked at him, then shook his head. "No."
"Does Donald usually have Russian bouncers 'round here?"
"No." He wrinkled his nose. "What makes you think they are Russian?"
Leon frowned in concentration and ignored his question. "Okay. That's good. If they've only been hired for tonight, they won't know much about the household. The guest rooms are on the first floor, his private rooms on the second, that right?"
"Yes." D stared, wondering what Leon was getting at. He took a deep breath and threaded a hand through his hair, still tied up in a ponytail. For some reason, the tuxedo made it look more like a lion's mane than ever. D swallowed.
"We need to wait till later in the evening to plant the bugs, preferably between ten and eleven. That leaves us with some two hours to kill."
D lifted an eyebrow. "This is a fundraising event, Leon. We are supposed to walk around the room, look at the exhibits and write our bids on sheets of paper. There is no need to keep standing here and bide our time."
He received a glare. "Fine, so I don't know how things like this work. That's why I asked to tag along with you."
D's stomach gave a flutter. He cleared his throat. "Around this room and the garden, there are several items on display, mostly donations by the guests themselves." He found his purse and took a few slips of paper from it. "One writes a sum on these and puts them in the little box by the item. At around half past ten, the guests will be asked to assemble here and the highest bidder for each item will be announced." He shrugged. "In between, guests are expected to make connections by talking to other guests, consume food from the buffet and enjoy whichever beverages are offered. I expect the string quartet over there is soon going to provide some music as well for those who wish to dance."
Leon glanced over to where long tables were set out, covered by white cloth and displaying a range of food. "Right. So we basically just walk around and talk to people?"
D smirked. "Yes, although I have to inform you that I will likely be asked to dance. Several of my customers are amongst the guests tonight, and whether you agree with me or not, I am here to endorse my business."
He received a piercing stare from narrowed eyes, turned around and made eye contact with a waiter. The man sailed over noiselessly and offered his tray to him, informing him in a quiet murmur of the choices available. D took his time, knowing Leon was fuming behind his back, before finally selecting a very sweet, very expensive grape juice and a glass of red wine. He turned back to Leon, ignoring the waiter, who silently sailed on his way.
Leon frowned at him. "You could at least have said thank you."
"Not at an event like this." He smiled and handed Leon the glass. "I would probably give the poor man a heart attack if I decided to acknowledge him as more than a piece of furniture."
"Fucking snobs," Leon muttered into his glass, but to D's surprised delight, only took a tiny sip of the wine.
"Please do leave the talking up to me," he said, mainly to cover his surprise. "You have no desire to be discovered, do you?" Leon snorted and D raised a brow. "And do refrain from making these or similar undignified noises."
Leon was about to say something, but apparently thought better of it. A second later D knew why. He turned around, welcoming the approaching woman with a smile. "Signora Brunetti. What a delight. I hope Petruchio is doing well."
He could almost hear the snort swallowed with another sip of wine.
They had been drifting around the room for approximately twenty minutes, Leon sticking to his instructions and letting D field most of the questions, when the first few tentative notes of music wove into the general chatter. Heeding the signal, people not wanting to dance started drifting away from the middle of the room, leaving several pairs, amongst them the Donald couple. D found Leon watching them while he himself chatted amicably with another of his customers until the man's wife found him and coaxed him towards the dance floor. He turned his attention back to Leon and found him smiling slightly, one finger tapping the wine glass. At D's questioning gaze, he blushed ever-so-slightly. "This is actually kinda nice. I wouldn't mind taking a round or two with some of the girls here."
Within a second, D had found an icy stare in his repertoire. "Your appreciation of the ladies present aside, you cannot simply walk around and ask them to dance."
Leon looked taken back. "Why not? FYI, I know how to ballroom-dance. At least I'd have something to do while you sweet-talk all those snobs."
D almost reeled. "What?"
Leon rolled his eyes. "Hello? American teen? High school proms? Don't wanna make a fool of yourself there. So I learnt."
D's spine felt like it was made of metal. "Your mastery of ballroom-dancing notwithstanding, this is not the place where you may simply walk up to any woman you happen to take a fancy to and ask her to dance. Most of them are here with their partners or husbands."
"And?"
D glowered. "Men from other cultures around the world do not take kindly to their companions being propositioned by another male."
Leon blinked. "You mean, they're gonna deck me if I simply ask their wife for a dance?"
D bit his tongue, took a deep breath and only spoke when he thought himself in command of his voice. "They may feel inclined to do more than simply 'deck' you, De- Leon. I assure you, you would not like the experience."
The blue eyes betrayed revulsion. "Sick."
"Different," D returned and Leon glared.
"No. Sick. It's no one else's business who a woman wants to dance with."
"Coming from you, this is truly what I would call 'irony'." D turned away and found his arm grabbed. Leon turned him back to stare him in the eyes.
"Come again?"
D avoided his gaze, instead looked at his collar. "Having heard plenty of your comments on and about women, I have to inform you that you do not exactly come across as a prime example for advocating equal rights."
Leon gawked. "What? The hell? You – what the heck does one have to do with the other?"
"Well, with the exception of a few choice examples, women are nothing but potential sex partners for you, are they not?"
Leon stared, clearly confused. "So? Yes, I think about sex when I see an attractive woman. What about it?"
D snorted. "Is that not enough? You constantly reduce half of humanity to nothing more than a -", he changed his mind about what he was about to say and finished a bit lamely with, "- meat on display."
The expression changed from confused to bemused and finally to a glare. "Like they treat me any different!"
D sputtered in outrage. "What?"
Leon's grip on his arm tightened. "You seriously think I don't know why half of my girlfriends hooked up with me in the first place? I look good. That's all. That's it. They wanted to bang me just as badly as I wanted to bang them. Well, it's no surprise that didn't work out in the long run, is it?"
D blinked. "But -"
The blue eyes were fierce. "You ever, even once, heard me call a girl a slut?"
He was tempted to reprimand Leon for his choice of vocabulary, but instead found himself shaking his head mutely.
"Or call my exes bitches for dumping me for another man?"
D almost bit his lip at the memory of Leon sitting in the shop, smoking cigarette after cigarette, too downcast to even rise to any bait D tried to throw his way. He shook his head.
"Or gossip about who the girls at work are sleeping with?"
He sputtered. "Excuse me? How would you even know about that?"
Leon rolled his eyes. "Oh for – D, what do you think the term 'office fuck' means?"
He glared. "Until just now, I was not even aware it existed."
Leon's expression was – almost fond. "Figures."
For some reason, it only riled D up more. He finally pulled his arm free of the hand and stuck his nose up. "What was I even expecting of someone who plasters the walls of his apartment with half-naked women?"
Leon groaned, his head falling forward. "Not that again! For fuck's sake, D! I'm a human male, I'm hard-wired to respond to female bodies. Do you blame a male tiger for responding to a female tiger?"
D averted his gaze and glared at a column. "That is different."
"It's not."
"Of course it is!" he snapped. "A male tiger usually does not stare at or take pleasure from looking at pictures of female tigers."
"Wait until cats invent photography." Leon grinned at the outraged glare D was sending him. "What? They don't recognise pictures as pictures, do they? Of course they wouldn't react to pictures then."
"It is utterly degrading to those women."
Leon held up his hands. "Okay, fair enough, pornography can be degrading. However, if you ever cared to notice, all of my posters were from magazines that at least paid those girls good money for letting them take pictures of them. And I'll have you know that I've arrested more than one woman over the course of years for public indecency. Some of them are into that kind of thing."
It was not fair of Leon to discuss this topic in such a reasonable, grown-up fashion when years ago, he would simply have yelled at D to mind his own business and leave him be. It threw D more than he could tell. He sniffed, retreating to the last stand. "Your choice of reading material? How do you explain that, then? You don't want me to believe that you find that rubbish intellectually stimulating."
Leon was starting to look absolutely livid and D felt a flash of relief at finally getting a familiar response. "I read them exactly because they don't require me to think! Fuck's sake, D, what do you expect from me? I come home after twelve, fourteen, sometimes sixteen-hour-days, having done nothing all day but run around and collect evidence or interrogate people. Well, excuse me if I don't feel like studying Nietzsche then!"
"Nobody is asking you to study Nietzsche. All I'm asking of you is to read something other than Penthouse."
"D, I'm not having that discussion with you in the middle of a fancy fundraising party."
The words 'where we are actually supposed to be planting bugs in the host's rooms' were not spoken aloud, but D caught them nevertheless and lowered his eyes. This was at least the third time Leon had completely thrown him today, enough for him to forget that whatever else his faults, he was very serious about his job.
They stood quietly for a few moments before Leon sighed and tugged at his ponytail, probably conscious that he would mess his hair up too much if he threaded a hand through it. "Okay, I won't ask anyone to dance. Still, you mentioned earlier that you might have to dance. So how does that work, then?"
D took a calming breath. "I do not ask. The women ask me."
Leon frowned. "And that's okay?"
He nodded. "They will be customers of mine, which removes any suspicions of ulterior motives."
The look he received was clearly unbelieving. "Are you kidding me? How is arranging new business deals not an ulterior motive?"
He was immensely relieved to be able to roll his eyes at Leon. "That is the whole purpose of tonight's event, so while it may be considered an ulterior motive under other circumstances, tonight it is the ultimate goal. That is another reason why I may dance with the women present, whereas you may not. People here don't know you. They don't know what your business is, what you are offering or selling, so if you were to approach any women here, other motives would come to mind first. Motives that would get you into trouble."
Leon stared at him for a bit before taking a rather large sip of his wine. "That's way too complicated for me."
D sighed inaudibly. "I know."
"Right, let me get this straight: It is not okay for me to ask a woman to dance for the fun of it, but it is alright for them to ask you, so long they can somehow convince their husbands that they're not just trying to grope you for a little."
D blushed. "They will most certainly not grope me, Leon! Really! You and your dirty imagination!"
Leon tilted his head in the direction of a cluster of women assembled in front of what was, D supposed, a prime example of modern art. Personally, he credited Chris with more drawing abilities than the artist responsible for that picture. "They have been eyeing you up and down for at least ten minutes now, and judging by where they were looking, they wouldn't mind groping you."
D glared and took a sip of his juice. Leon snickered. "Yeah, right. What was that about me acting like women are only meat on display?"
"I refuse to discuss this topic any further."
He shrugged. "Fine with me, 's long as you admit that I've got a point. Anyhow, so why have any dancing at all if it's not for fun?"
D turned his attention back to the dancers, relieved to be able to change topics. "There is no unwritten rule against dancing with people one is already acquainted with or one's own companion. It is one way of reinforcing social bonds. Of course, it would be unwise to spend all evening dancing with just one person, and rather defy the purpose of the event, but there is a certain expectation that people from cultures where dancing is common will dance with their companions at least once."
He had expected some snide remark on the snobbery of the company present, but to his surprise, there was nothing. He looked to the side. Leon's expression betrayed shock and disbelief. "They – please don't tell me they expect the two of us to dance."
D flushed, his whole body flooded with warmth. "Of course not!" he hissed. "Take a look around you! Do you have any idea how many people in this room come from countries where homosexuality is punishable by prison or even death? Were we to dance here, we would cause a scandal. I don't think that is what you had in mind for tonight, did you?"
Leon, to his everlasting chagrin and humiliation, looked relieved. "Oh. Good. No, of course not."
D pursed his lips, uncertain what to feel. The next question threw him again.
"Right. Do you think you can sneak a dance with Shanice Donald?"
He blinked. "Excuse me?"
Leon nodded towards the doors. "We need some more info about tonight's security before we actually go upstairs. Who's going to stay the night, too. Just – you know. Info. So, since I'm apparently not allowed anywhere near her -" D could not quite suppress the smirk and Leon glowered at him for a moment, "- you'll have to do all of that. Think you can manage?"
He huffed. "Really, Leon, whose job is this, yours or mine?"
Leon raised his eyebrows and D looked away. "I can certainly try. I am sure Mrs. Donald would not mind dancing with me."
Now Leon smirked. "As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure she won't."
D held on to his purse and fan and told himself once more that this was not the right situation to be yelling at Leon. "What are you going to do in the meantime?"
Leon shrugged. "I guess I'll be getting myself some food and take a look at the garden."
"Do not fill your plate to the brim!"
He earnt himself an eye-roll with that. "Christ, D! You've been harping on me about shit like that for years. You really think I don't know the theory by now?"
He opened his mouth and closed it, blushing. "I will go find Shanice Donald. It might take me some time, though. I expect I shall be asked to dance by other women as well once I have danced with her."
Leon smirked again. "Off you go."
Five dances and an interlude with Spencer Donald and a few select guests later, D found Leon close by the buffet, chatting away with some of the women who had earlier been looking at the modern art piece. His mood did not improve upon observing how cheerfully they laughed together. Smiling blankly, he stepped up to them. "My dear Leon, my apologies for leaving you alone for such a long time."
"Hi D." Leon grinned at him, that broad, charming grin that had made D's heart flutter even back in Los Angeles. "You had fun?"
"Of course," he rejoined, sizing up the women. They were not known to him, but he noticed with relief that all of them were middle-aged ladies, with the exception of one girl that looked hardly older than fourteen. The kind of company which would not invite immediate suspicion. Leon, following his gaze, indicated the lady right next to him. "D, I'd like you to meet Carla Pomillo and her daughter Donatella."
He shook hands and Leon moved on. "Astrid Peterson, Count D."
She was clearly Scandinavian, almost as tall as Leon and equally blond and blue-eyed.
"And Carmen Nieto. She has donated that little eagle figurine you took a liking to."
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance," D murmured, shaking her hand as well and wondering just when Leon had learnt the right way to go about introducing people. To be fair, it was not perfect, but the group seemed relaxed enough for him to get away with it nonetheless. "I cannot imagine how you can bear to part with that figurine, Signora Nieto. It is a work of art."
She smiled. "Thank you, Count D. I am happy to be able to donate it to such a noble cause, though, as I prefer watching live specimen in the wild. Perhaps you understand. I take it you own a pet store?"
"My grandfather does, Signora. I am merely taking care of it while he is abroad." Donatella was sending shy glances at Leon, who gave her a kind smile. "You must have travelled quite a bit yourself. There are not many places left where one can still observe eagles in the wild."
She laughed as Astrid Peterson, with characteristic Scandinavian straightforwardness, said, "Travelled a bit doesn't quite begin to touch it, Count D. It is a surprise her husband still knows what she looks like."
So those two knew each other. D acquired another glass of grape juice from a passing waiter and kept the conversation going while Leon and Donatella sneaked away to the buffet to help themselves to another plate each and then stood, the girl blushing and smiling, Leon with the air of an older brother entertaining a younger sister. D could not quite help the annoyance flaring up. To his relief, Carla Pomillo kept a close eye on her daughter as well and cleared her throat when she saw she was finished with her food. "Signore Orcot is very kind, Count D, to entertain Donatella. I'm afraid she does not feel particularly at home here."
"Well, she is probably the youngest in the room." Astrid Peterson took a sip from her wine. "Maybe we should take her out into the garden, Carmen, what do you think? She might like that."
"I'm sure she would," D agreed readily and watched as Carla Pomillo collected her daughter and thanked Leon. Astrid Peterson held out her hand.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Count D. If you ever happen to pass by Copenhagen, drop me a line and I will take you out to Hart Bageri. I'm sure you'll enjoy it."
He smiled brightly at her. "I will make sure to do so, Signora Peterson."
Leon returned to his side with a new glass of wine as the three women left, still grinning and looking fairly at ease. D lifted an eyebrow and he rolled his eyes and shrugged. "C'mon, she's thirteen! You don't want to tell me I can't even talk to a kid young enough to be my daughter without someone getting pissed off?"
D sighed. "No, of course nobody is going to take offence at that, especially since her mother was nearby all of the time."
"So, have you figured out how to get upstairs?" Leon took a sip of his drink, carefully maintaining the appearance that they were only having a casual, if somewhat private conversation. D huffed.
"The first floor is off limits to everyone except a few chosen guests tonight."
Leon nodded. "Figures. Who are they?"
D indicated them with delicate glances. "Mohammed Rahman, a high-ranking judge from Malaysia. Slamet Bowo and Hadi Purnama, member of the Indonesian government and head of one or the other regional police forces, respectively. Yong Wei, delegate from the Chinese government, and lastly, Earl J. Cuyler. I'm told he's working for US customs, although I am not sure in which capacity."
Leon's expression turned grim for a moment before he carefully restored a cheerful mien. "Well, whatever position he has, I'm gonna bet you 100$ that's not the only job he's doing there."
D silently agreed. "Well, what now?"
Leon pulled his lower lip between his teeth and D's eyes went wide for a moment, unable to look away. Then the lip came loose and he blinked hastily, trying to focus. "What about the girls?"
D coughed. "Excuse me?"
Leon tilted his head in the direction of Hadi Purnama, surrounded by two women in slightly out-of-place attire. "Them. They're high-profile prostitutes. Donald probably hired them to keep his special guests entertained."
He was about to say something when the blond woman put her hand on Purnama's chest and threw her head back with a laugh. Her dress split along the front, permitting Purnama deep insight into her cleavage. D turned his head away. "What about them?"
"Well, how do the bouncers know which of the girls may go upstairs?" Leon gave him an impatient glare. "There needs to be some sort of sign."
"Oh." D collected himself and ran through the conversations he had had. "I believe Spencer Donald has given them something – a wafer or ticket or something the like?"
"Right." Leon frowned, pondering it for a moment. D took the opportunity to study his features more closely. He had had little time to do that so far. The four additional years suited Leon. His jawline had become more pronounced, his eyes had garnered a few crow's feet, but they only served to give him the air of someone who liked to smile. He had matured well.
"Well, you'll have to get your hands one of those wafers, then."
D stared in consternation, jolted from his thoughts. "Excuse me?"
Leon shrugged. "We need to get upstairs. Ergo, we need one of those wafers. I'm sure none of the girls'll say no if you ask them to dance with you, and I'm equally sure you'll be able to get theirs off them while you do."
D opened his mouth to protest when Leon continued, "It's gonna be easy enough after that. You'll just have to walk up the stairs. I'll join you once you reach the first floor. There's a fire escape round the back that should get me to one of the staff rooms."
D was sure his eyes were going to bug out of his head. "What? Why would I -"
"I'm way too recognisable," Leon cut him off, glaring at him. "Those bouncers'll know exactly which male guests they are supposed to let upstairs and who needs to stay out. I'm not on their list, so I can't do it."
He reached for his fan and snapped it open. It was purely to distract himself from wanting to wring Leon's neck. "What in the world makes you think that I would get past them when you cannot?"
There was a sly grin on Leon's lips that he did most decidedly not like. "You're way more charming than I am. It's gonna be easy for you to convince them that you're going exactly where you're supposed to be going."
"Why would they think I am supposed to -" D trailed off, his eyes widening in outrage. Leon snickered. "I am not a prostitute!"
"Well yeah, but those Russian boys don't know that, do they?"
D's eyes narrowed until they were hardly more than slits. "Detective, I swear on my ancestors, you are going to regret this!" he hissed. Leon gave him a blinding smile.
"Totally worth it."
"This is the most imbecilic, impertinent – what makes you even think I might acquiesce to this?"
Leon pretended to consider for a moment before he gave a shrug and said, suddenly dead serious, "The chance to stop someone who's responsible for killing more animals than you would ever want to imagine."
The silence felt fragile, unstable. D carefully closed his fan. "Which of them should I approach?"
Leon looked over his shoulder, eyes careful and calculating. "The redhead. She's already halfway sauced. She might even get sent home before she ever makes it upstairs, but even if she goes, she won't be going alone, so they likely won't even realise her wafer's missing."
D took a deep breath, closed his eyes and turned around. "I shall see you upstairs."
"Third servant bedroom to the right."
He did not acknowledge the words, instead made his way towards Hadi Purnama, whose eyes were riveted on the very blond, very tall woman to his right. The red-haired woman on his other side was – not exactly pouting, but judging by the speed with which she was imbibing her cocktail, Leon was most probably right.
A bright smile, a servile attitude and a flicker of his fan were all it took for Hadi Purnama to notice him. "Ah! Mr. Count, eh?"
D gave a little bow. "Mr. Purnama. So kind of you to remember me."
"Of course, of course." He had clearly already had more alcohol than he should, D noticed with distaste. "Mr. Spencer said you did wonders with his – what was it again?"
"A bird of paradise. A very beautiful specimen of Princess Stephanie's astrapia." Not, he thought, that this man would have any clue what type of bird that actually was. Nevertheless, Hadi Purnama was beaming at him.
"Yes, yes, that was it. Well, Mr. Spencer was most grateful for your help."
D bowed again, still smiling. "Mr. Donald is very generous with his praise. Mr. Purnama, I was wondering if I might borrow your lovely companion for a dance?"
A frown flew over the man's face, something D had calculated on. He extended his hand towards the red-haired woman and added, with an even sweeter smile, "It would be such a shame to not make full use of charming company."
Hadi Purnama, restored to equanimity and secure in the knowledge that his favourite was not D's choice, chuckled. "Very true, Mr. Count, very true. I don't mind at all."
The woman herself eyed his hand in surprise, obviously not having expected him to choose her. Then she smiled and put her glass down. "I would be honoured," she purred, allowing D to take her hand. "I am Gypsy. Gypsy Pericolo."
D could only just so keep his face straight. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Signorina Pericolo."
She was, he noticed to his relief, certainly not sober anymore, but not yet in a state that would require him to unobtrusively steady her while they were dancing. Then again, if she was who Leon suspected she was, she would know better than to get drunk at a party like this, lest she lose customers.
He quickly glanced to where he had left Leon and found him still standing there, his eyes glued to him. D quickly turned his attention back to his dance partner, ignoring the little shiver down his back. "I am called Count D."
"Oh, you are the mysterious pet shop owner." She did have a nice enough smile, even when it was faked. D chanced another glance at Leon. He was still watching him. "I heard one can get the most fantastic pets at your shop."
"Somewhat of an exaggeration, I'm afraid." He returned her smile. "Although you are certainly welcome to have a look at our selection if you chance to be in the neighbourhood."
"That would be lovely, although I have to admit that keeping a pet might be above my abilities." She gave a little laugh. "One is always so busy. I would not want the poor thing to suffer for my distractions. But if you can think of an animal that can take being alone for some hours every day, I might reconsider."
She was good, he had to admit that. Her hands were staying exactly where they were supposed to be, and she was not making any moves on him – although that might be part of her orders for tonight. He was not one of Spencer Donald's choice guests, after all. Now, where might she have stored away her wafer?
He looked to Leon over her shoulder. He tilted his head to his side and put a hand to his breast pocket. D's eyes went wide, then narrowed as he glared at him. Leon grinned and gave a shrug. Then he pushed himself off the wall and started slowly weaving through the other guests in the direction of the garden. D wanted to kill him.
"Your companion, I take it?"
He returned his attention to Gypsy, who was regarding him with interest. "He is a good-looking man. Is he Scandinavian?"
"US American," D replied, mind racing as he tried to figure out how to get to the wafer. Silently he swore to have Tetsu roast Leon on a spit if it was not where he had indicated. "He is an old friend. A surprise visit, so I decided to take him along. It was most inconsiderate of him!"
He could not stop himself from adding the last part, and the chagrin in his voice was rather too obvious, but Gypsy laughed at it, eyes sparkling with real amusement. "You do not approve of him surprising you?"
"Most certainly not!"
She laughed again. "Goodness. And here I thought a splash of romance was universally appreciated."
D felt his face blanch at the implication and she stopped laughing. "Oh, my apologies. I did not – I mean, I thought – I do apologise."
"No," he said, his mouth moving almost without his conscious will, "no, it is alright. Please, would you mind – I have a heart condition – some fresh air -"
"Of course." She immediately slid his arm under hers and guided them through the big open doors onto the terrace. D took a deep breath and nodded towards the outer garden.
"Could we please – I do not want to be gawked at."
"Sure."
They slowly made their way away from the eyes of the other guests until they had reached a bench. D immediately sat, closing his eyes and trying to compose himself. Gypsy knelt down beside him. "Can I get you anything? A glass of water? A cold towel?"
He took a deep breath, then opened his eyes and pushed his hair to the side. His golden eye started to burn in the dark. "No, you have been most kind to me, Signorina Pericolo. Now, if you wouldn't mind handing me your wafer?"
She stared at him, banned by the sight. Her hand wandered to her breasts and disappeared into her cleavage. D flushed and concentrated on keeping the spell going. The little blue ticket appeared and was pressed into his outstretched hand. He breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, Signorina. Now you will return to the ballroom and look for a lady named Signora Brunetti. You will talk to her and entertain her until Hadi Purnama or another of the men comes looking for you. If no one does, you will let Signora Brunetti give you a lift home and get a good night's sleep."
Gypsy nodded, entranced. D smiled softly. "Thank you for the dance, Signorina Pericolo. Now forget."
He put his whole being behind the words, unwilling to make her however an unwilling accomplice. She blinked, then got up, looking down at him in confusion. He smiled back up at her. "Thank you very much for your assistance, Signorina. I shall stay here for a while. Please do not let me keep you."
She blinked again, opened her mouth and frowned. D found his little purse and slipped a few notes into her hand. She looked down on them, her frown disappearing. "Oh, Count, there is no -"
"Please," he interrupted her, shivering even as he gently closed her hand over the money. "It was my pleasure entirely."
She closed her mouth, sent him a last glance and then smiled a little uncertainly. "I – might come by for a pet one of these days."
"You will be most welcome."
D watched her disappear back towards the house, still as a statue, torn between making Leon pay for making him resort to such measures, and revulsion at humankind. In the end, he stood, gathering his purse and the little blue ticket. Then he sighed, threw his head back and started walking towards the house. He could make Leon pay later. Right now, they had a mission to accomplish, and D could not afford to be late for his rendezvous.
Nobody was paying a lot of attention to the men guarding the staircase, but there were still too many people around to risk putting them under a spell. D glanced around himself, making sure he was not drawing attention from the few people populating the entrance hall. They were all deep in conversation, having turned their backs on him pretty much the moment he entered. Good. As long as they were busy trying to keep their conversations private, they would likely not care where he went, provided he did not approach them. As for the guards, he would have to make it past them by virtue of the wafer in his hand.
They perked up the moment he set the first foot on the steps and followed his ascent with narrowed eyes. D stopped at the top, smiling, his hand curled around the wafer. "Good evening."
"These are private rooms," one of them, a bit taller than the other, spoke up. D inclined his head and held up his hand with the wafer for inspection.
"Of course, sir."
They looked at the wafer, then at him. He continued smiling. The slightly taller one eyed him a little suspiciously before addressing the other. »I don't know. I thought there were only going to be chicks for the guests.«
A snort from his companion as he, too, looked D up and down with what could best be described as a disgusted look in his eyes, even as he kept his face neutral. »You never know with those weirdos from abroad. For all I can tell, he's probably got a pussy as well.«
They were speaking Russian, and it chagrined him more than their derogatory words. D maintained his demure smile, images of Tetsu ripping them apart going through his mind, and silently cursed Leon three times to hell for pinpointing their nationality with such ease.
The first guard handed the wafer back to him, jerking his head in a silent order for D to walk past. »Fuck, don't be disgusting. He's probably the pimp. Gonna get things set up for later, is my guess.«
Tetsu would hopefully not be averse to some company over dinner. The hyenas, maybe?
D made his way to the second guest bedroom, opened the door and slipped inside. His eyes quickly got used to the semi-darkness and he took advantage of the relative silence to sit down on the floor, legs crossed, and close his eyes, taking deep breaths. There were so many reasons already to kill Leon, or simply leave him behind here and never turn back. Yet D knew he would do neither. No, he would walk over to the third staff bedroom on the right, open the window and let Leon climb inside, then help him to install his bugs wherever he thought they should be going, and return to the party with him to smile while people hinted more or less openly at the nature of their relationship.
If only.
D drew his knees up and put his forehead on his arms for a moment, keeping his eyes closed and his breath shallow. Not enough that the man was back, no, he had to be just enough himself to remind D of Los Angeles, and just enough changed to tempt him into wanting to find out what had happened in the meantime, and just how much he had changed.
He got up before he could lose himself in maudlin thoughts and found that the guards, as he had expected, had turned their attention back to the goings-on downstairs. Without a sound, he slipped out of the room and hurried along the corridor, careful to keep to the shadows. The staff rooms, as was common with these palazzi, were hidden out of sight of the main corridor, and once he was there, he was safe from being spotted.
Unless of course there were more guards positioned there. D suddenly found himself longing for Q-chan. Not Grandfather, Q-chan. Despite all evidence, he still had trouble reconciling the stern, serious man with the tiny outspoken creature that had accompanied him everywhere.
Straining his senses, he scanned the corridor in front of him for signs of life or alarms, making sure he was thorough before proceeding. The bedroom was locked (unsurprisingly; if D shared a house with Spencer Donald, he too would lock his bedroom when he left it), but that was not really an obstacle with the help of the small piece of metal from his purse. He stopped a moment to survey the room, reaching the conclusion that it was likely Spencer Donald's secretary's room. Not one of his favourite humans either. If he ever dropped by the pet shop, D would be more than happy to sell him one of the snakes. He already knew exactly which one.
Without touching any of the items distributed around the floor, he made his way to the window and unlatched it, uncertainty suddenly taking hold of him. Leon did not seem to be here yet. Had he been held up? Discovered, maybe?
"Goddamn, what took you so long? Were you having a chat with them Russian boys? Trying to sell them a Siberian tiger or anything?"
D barely had time to step back before Leon had already climbed inside, and for a second, they ended up chest to chest, D staring up at him in surprise, Leon looking down with a frown.
He quickly took another step backwards, folding his hands and glaring daggers at Leon. "Most assuredly not. I would never do my pets the dishonour of selling them to such disagreeable examples of the human species."
Leon snickered. "They thought you were a honest-to-god hooker, didn't they?"
D took a deep breath, closed his eyes and reminded himself that he could not yell at Leon. At this moment. "We should hurry. The main event will start in less than three quarters of an hour, and we don't want to be the last guests left on the property either."
"Well, I'm good to go. Are there any more guards around? On the stairs to the second floor?"
D shook his head as he turned to lead the way. "Not that I noticed."
"Huh. Probably got some alarm installed, then."
D agreed, but said nothing. They silently made their way up the dark servant stair only to find it blocked at the upper entrance by a door. Leon made a little sound of frustration. "Of course. That accounts for the missing guards."
D knelt down and tried to peer closely at the lock. It was hard, with the only light coming from a dim emergency exit sign. Leon rustled behind him, then touched his shoulder. "Here. Flashlight."
He accepted it and took another good look at the lock. Then, without a word, he picked up his purse and found another piece of metal.
Suddenly Leon was breathing right down his neck. "I don't fucking believe it," he murmured. D held his breath and supported himself unobtrusively on the door. "You've got a fucking lockpick. Fucking hell, D, you are so fucking lucky I'm not a cop anymore."
"Yes, Detective, I am, and I do need some space to carry out what will need to be done to get you inside this corridor. So would you please step back and hold the torch for me?" D bit it out, desperate to get the man off his back, quite literally.
Leon chuckled and followed his instructions. "Although, all things considered, this isn't exactly the first time the two of us are breaking and entering together, is it?"
D's hand stopped for a moment before he resumed his task. "No."
"How's that dragon doing, anyhow? She is back at the shop, isn't she? Chris keeps talking about those three sisters that share a body. Figured that might be her."
The door clicked open. D rose, turning around and turning the torch off. "There may still be alarms, although I seem to recall that they are only switched on when Spencer Donald leaves the house."
"Oh? Why?"
D smiled and held out his hand. He took a perverse delight in Leon's shudder when the two black creatures appeared beside him, staring at Leon from dark eyes. He swallowed hard and D watched his Adam's apple bob.
"What the hell are they?"
D smiled and caressed their heads. "Allow me to introduce you to Ares and Mars. I am assuming you are seeing their dog form, right?"
Leon nodded, eyes wide and face pale.
"They are purebred Pakistani Mastiffs. Ares, Mars, may I introduce you to Leon Orcot. An old friend of mine."
Ares pushed himself against D's legs and looked at him questioningly. ▷Count, what are you doing here?◁
He patted the big head and smiled gently. "I will have to ask you to let my friend and me enter your master's room for a few moments."
▷Why?◁ Mars was clearly more suspicious of Leon than of the request itself, but D would not be able to plant the bugs without him. He rubbed the heavy chin.
"My dear Mars, Leon and I have business to conduct in your master's room. It is very important business, and I would be immensely grateful if you would allow us to pass."
▷If it's important, why isn't Master with you?◁
"Your master is busy downstairs with his guests right now, my dear," D said gently. Ares licked his paw as he thought it over, ears playing. "Leon is a detective, you must know. He is currently helping me to catch a very bad man, someone who has killed many, many animals."
▷Oh.◁ Mars sounded suitably impressed. ▷But why does he need to go into the Master's rooms for that?◁
D sighed inwardly. Pakistani Mastiffs were not exactly known for their intelligence, but their loyalty presented its own problems. "Well, we know this person has recently been in your master's rooms, and we would like to check for anything they might have left that could help us. You know your master receives many guests."
Ares put down his paw and looked at D. ▷There were a few men there today that I didn't like much. They are downstairs now. One of them tried to kick Mars.◁
D raised an eyebrow. "Did he now? How rude."
▷Yes.◁ Ares turned around and started trotting into the corridor, Mars following on his heels. ▷A nasty little man whose hands smelt of pee.◁
D kept his face straight and hoped he had not shaken that particular man's hand tonight. He had a slight suspicion though that Ares was probably talking about Slamet Bowo. He shuddered.
"Damn, I still can't wrap my head around it," someone said beside him and he almost jumped as he remembered that Leon was still there, keeping step with him. "Hearing them talk, I mean."
D stopped and blinked at him. "You – can still hear them?"
Leon glanced at him. "Sometimes. Not always. I hardly ever see them, though. Well, I mean, I do. Mostly when I'm drunk. Then I can hear them, too. But for the most part, I just hear some of them. When I try talking to them, they answer back."
"Oh," D said softly. "That – is rather unexpected."
Ares and Mars had also stopped and were looking back at them, their tails slightly wagging. ▷Count?◁
"Of course! My apologies." He quickly followed them to the big double doors leading into Spencer Donald's office. To his surprise, the door was unlocked. He turned to the dogs. "Ares, Mars, does your master have one of those loud noisemakers inside his office that goes off when someone opens the door?"
Ares pecked his head to the side. ▷Oh no. He says we make enough noise as it is.◁ He sounded very proud. D took a deep breath and pushed the handle down.
"Leon, I will ask you to trust me and do exactly as I tell you now. If any kind of alarm goes off when I open this door, or you suspect that an alarm might have gone off, we will make straight for the windows and get out onto the little balcony that is there. Once there, you will have to let me pick you up, and I will jump to the roof. Have you understood me?"
A warm hand in the small of his back had him jump. Leon's voice was directly beside his ear. "Yes."
D took another deep breath and opened the door. Ares and Mars pushed inside immediately, wagging their tails excitedly. His eyes darted to different corners, searching for any visible sign that an alarm or surveillance cameras had been set off. But apparently Spencer Donald trusted his dogs to keep his office safe.
He stepped inside, still poised to immediately protect Leon should anything occur. There was silence except for the noises from the garden and the dogs' breathing. His posture relaxed a little. "It appears we are clear. Now. Where do they go?"
Leon slipped into the room after him, carefully closing the door. "I've got three bugs with me. One I thought could go underneath his desk, the other somewhere it can easily pick up on what visitors might say."
D reached for his hand and felt Leon startle. "Allow me. You cannot turn on your torch here, and I know where things are in this room."
Their breaths were loud in the almost-silence as D guided them over to the heavy desk Spencer Donald used. Leon knelt down and D watched him fasten something underneath it. "Right. Any suggestions where the next one could go?"
"There is a fireplace on the other side of the room. It is rarely used, but he likes to sit in front of it."
Leon reached for his hand again and D felt his heart skip a beat. "Suggestion accepted."
Ares and Mars had lain down in front of said fireplace, their tails twitching lazily. Leon used both hands to inspect it before he placed the bug on the back of the picture above it. "Okay. That should do. I hope. His bedroom is on this floor as well, isn't it?"
"Yes, but – you aren't seriously thinking about putting a bug in there, are you?" D found himself almost stuttering, his heart doubling its pace once more. It was not helped by Leon again taking his hand.
"One never knows. He probably makes phone calls in bed."
"But -"
A soft snort. "We're not trying to tape him having sex, but we are trying to monitor his movements. He's married. He probably talks to his wife. Or one would hope he does."
D closed his mouth on further objections and quietly called for the dogs. They got up with groans and followed them back into the corridor. D continued further down and stopped in front of the door he knew led to Spencer Donald's bedroom. "Leon -"
"D, c'mon!"
With a sigh, he pushed down the handle and let them inside. Leon let out a quiet whistle. "Damn, that could almost tempt me to go into the smuggling business myself!"
D frowned, his eyes darting around the room in search of what could have prompted the remark. Leon had not shown any desire earlier to acquire a similar house for himself, so what was it about this bedroom that enticed him so?
The man in question strode past him and, before D could stop him, sat down on the bed. D's eyes widened and his mouth opened, but no sound came forth. Leon bobbed up and down, grinning in delight. "A giant waterbed! Christ, I wish my apartment was big enough for this!"
D almost groaned. "You cannot be serious!"
Leon looked up at him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Why not? I love these things. They're amazing. Have you ever fu-"
"I most certainly have not!" D interrupted, indignant. Leon chortled.
"Of course you wouldn't. You're missing out big time, D, trust me on that."
"Really, Detective, I am starting to wonder if you are truly as incorruptible as I always thought. It appears the only reason you have not been taken in by anyone is that they haven't thought of offering you the right things yet," D snapped and Leon laughed.
"Everyone's got their price, D. Everyone. Even me."
"Oh? Pray tell then, what would be your price?"
His stomach dropped as Leon stopped laughing and simply looked at him, face half illuminated by the light filtering in through the windows.
"Depends. What would you be willing to offer?"
D swallowed, finding his mouth dry. "Detective -"
"Leon."
If he spoke the man's name now, he would be irrevocably lost. D cleared his throat. "The bug," he said faintly. Leon blinked, one, two times.
Then he quickly got up, hand slipping into his pocket to retrieve the third device. "Right. Make sure nobody's coming, will ya?"
He dropped to his knees and inserted himself under the bed frame. D stood, his stomach still doing funny things, uncertain if he regretted or rejoiced at the sudden change. To take his mind off it, he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the dogs inside the corridor. If he strained his ears enough, he could hear one of them thumping his tail on the ground, the other snoring softly.
Suddenly there was a rustle of movement, both of them got up and bounded away from the bedroom door. D paled, all confusion wiped out by the sounds of footsteps entering the corridor from the servant staircase.
"Detective -"
"Fuck's sake, D!"
D bit his tongue to stop himself from yelling. That was not how people went undetected while installing bugs in the bedroom of an international criminal. "I believe someone is approaching."
Leon was out from under the bed in a second, looking around frantically. "Shit. See any place we can hide in?"
As if on command, their eyes fell upon the big wardrobe before finding each other again. Now D really felt like yelling, consequences be damned. "Leon, I swear by my ancestors, if you ask me to hide in a wardrobe with you while someone is having sex in this room, I will feed you to Tetsu!"
Leon snorted just as excited giggling wafted in through the door, accompanied by sweet nonsense in Italian. "I was gonna suggest the bathroom."
D followed on his heels as he quickly made his way over to the door, opened it carefully and slipped inside. "How is that any better?" he hissed, wondering if he should simply stay back and hypnotise the approaching couple. It would at least save him from having to share any cramped, dark and potentially hot spaces with Leon.
He was not a little surprised when a hand took his and he was pulled forward along what he supposed would be a white tiled floor. Leon's voice dropped to an almost indiscernible whisper as the couple outside the door created a racket by throwing themselves onto the bed. "Because, according to the floor plans Paolo gave me, this bathroom has two doors. The other room is his wife's."
D blinked and followed without a comment until Leon stopped. The movement of the hand told him that he was getting down to his knees, supposedly to look through the keyhole. D took a deep breath and tugged at the hand. "Let me."
Without a word, they switched places and D put his free hand to the door, letting his senses expand into the room beyond. A moment later he looked up. "It is empty."
They slipped out, D's hand still in Leon's. In the corridor, the two dogs were already waiting for them, whining softly. ▷Count, Count! Master is in his bedroom with a woman!◁
D retracted his hand, glad to use the animals as an excuse. His stomach had still not settled entirely. "Is he now?" he said softly, stroking their heads. "Well, we shall not disturb them then, and just leave by the staircase we came by."
Mars pushed his head against the hand. ▷You don't understand, Count! It is not Mistress!◁
There was a soft intake of breath behind him. "Damn, that guy's banging someone else while his wife is entertaining the guests." Leon's voice held disgust. "What a bastard."
D said nothing.
"Let's leave, shall we?" Leon said after a pause.
"Yes."
The dogs accompanied them to the staircase and D petted them for a few moments before he closed the door and leant against the wall. All of this excitement was proving to be rather too much. Or maybe – not too much, but of the wrong kind, and too many different types of excitement. Leon scrutinised him in the greenish emergency exit light. "You okay? Is it your heart again?"
For a split second D thought the organ in question would stop. "My heart? Why -"
Leon shrugged. "Last time I saw you this pale was when that dragon hatched. You know. You broke down running."
"Oh." D collected his thoughts and lowered his gaze. "No, it is not my heart. I am merely glad we made it out of there without being discovered. Detective, I do sincerely hope this whole adventure is going to serve some purpose. I will be very put out otherwise."
Another shrug and Leon started descending the stairs. "We'll see in due time. If it was as easy as simply planting a few bugs and waiting for them to incriminate themselves, I'd be out of a job. And listen, I get that you used to call me that, but it's really bugging me. So please stop calling me Detective."
D swallowed. "Of course. My apologies, Mr. Orcot."