Thank you for reviews Persephoniii, FuchsiaGrasshopper, FrostyAutumn, and Ritos!
If you've been used to me making consistent updates, I'm sorry this was so slow! I had to make an unexpected trip and was away from home for about a week.
Grady learned mechanics through the making of watches and clocks, but business she learned through delivering newspapers. She was proud to call it her first job and her grandfather got her a new bike for the occasion. Her route began in the Fall when the crisp mornings balanced the warmth that her pumping little legs generated. She continued even while she breathed heavily through a thick, ice crusted scarf but by this time, she had the help of one of her first innovations.
A racquetball catcher, some bungees and gears, a lever on the side of the bike basket, and a little geometry that was quite advanced for a girl Grady's age, gave her the Paper Launcher. It took a lot of trial and error tests but in the end, she had a device that shot papers on stoops and porches more quickly than Grady ever would have been able to do on her own. After her first two routes, she had wondered if her bad aim would doom her to the ranks of a slow and mediocre paper delivery girl. Then she remembered that brains were more useful than a good throwing arm any day. Her grandfather urged her to enter the Paper Launcher in the school science fair, but Grady wasn't one for blue ribbons. Already, she had a taste for more practical rewards.
The invention didn't cut her route time in half, but it was close. Some simple calculations proved that it was possible to fit two routes into her run. The man that distributed the newspapers only allowed the children one route each, but there were ways around that.
"I'll do your route for half your pay." Grady selected Donovan because she considered him the laziest kid on the route and guessed he would need little convincing. "Think about it. You'll have money, but you won't have to work for it. Free money, you know the smart choice."
She tried not to roll her eyes as Donovan picked his nose and considered. In the end, he agreed.
The next step would be trickiest. She acquired a third route in this way and had to spend a few weeks running three routes in the time it should take to do one. Her legs ached, but she had doubled her wages. With some of the money she had saved, she hired a boy called Shrimpy. She chose him for his fast bike and he liked the idea of having a Paper Launcher stuck to it. He did another route that Grady purchased as well as her third one. Then she bought two more routes and hired another delivery boy. By the time summer came, Grady had restaffed almost the entire service and was earning ten times what she would have made if she had stuck to one route. The man who owned the service didn't pay close attention to the delivery kids, but he caught on eventually.
"And that's the first time I've told that story," Grady said to Oswald. "My grandfather was so disappointed. I had all this money and I was feeling like I owned the place, but when my Grandpa didn't like it... kind of went sour. So I spent the money in one go on something stupid. Don't even remember what."
"Clever girl," Oswald chuckled. "I would have been proud."
"Aye well, we're of the same mind. Grandpa played by the rules though. Said I cheated the man who hired us. And I was confused how that could be because his papers were delivered all the same. My Da, he said something about a man who has the wool pulled over his eyes by a dumb little girl deserves what he gets. I agreed. Apart from the underhanded compliment."
She downed half a cup of tea as if it were a whiskey shot.
"I'm impressed." He couldn't help but grin at the thought of a young Grady monopolizing the paper route. "For your age, that bordered on genius."
"You'll make me blush." She stretched her feet out on the coffee table and knocked some papers over.
"A charming story, but I think you brought it up for a reason?" he asked.
"You're a Burrow Boy hero now since they think your responsible for locking up Charlie," she began.
"By your choice," he added.
"I don't envy you a bit of it, I get as much attention from them as I could ever want." She frowned and her eyes followed Fionn as he paced the room nervously and pushed through the curtain to the shop. Oswald glanced at him too. Fionn spent most of his time indoors snoring to rival the ticking clocks.
"Someone out smoking on the street," Grady shrugged. "Fionn doesn't like people hanging around at night. He's mostly useless but not completely."
"And maybe wiser than you give him credit for..." Oswald suggested. He'd become fond of the old dog who had made him nervous at first.
"He'll make noise if there's trouble," Grady said. "Anyway, my point being you can count on the Boys to trust you now. You know that's important. You say jump, they'll ask how high. Especially when you make them some more money."
"And you have an idea how to do that," he finished.
"It's going to be a lot like the paper route in theory only we're going to horn in on the garbage collection business."
"Garbage..." he raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"What? You have to be glamorous now?"
"I admit, it wouldn't have been my first choice. You propose some racketeering?"
"The Burrow's already had their fingers in it for awhile, but some Math shows they're falling way short of potential. Time to expand some territory. You can turn your nose up at the trash business, no pun intended, but everyone needs it. It's steady and reliable."
"I see your point," he allowed her. "But I would have preferred newspapers," he added with a smirk.
"That my friend, was child's play," she grinned. "One more thing before we really lay out this garbage stuff though. You need to pick a front man. The decoy leader of the Burrow Boys. The last thing we need right now is Maroni getting a hint of what you're up to down here. I want your say in this because you'll have to work closely with them. It's got to be someone loyal but smart."
They worked well into the night and forgot about Fionn who did not stop his restless pacing.
To the rest of the world, Connor Kerry would be the new face of the Burrow Boys. And he had a nice face, Grady considered it was too nice. Broad, open, and with a bit of a twinkle to his eye. But as Oswald pointed out, leaders ought to be charismatic. Connor was intelligent and dependable, but lacked the confidence to lead which meant he would follow directions. Could even have words put in his mouth.
As he shared a pint with Grady at Pinhead Susan's, cheeks rosy against his dark curling hair, she could see how he earned the nickname Babyface Kerry and understand the attempts to squash it. Babyface did not have a threatening ring. The man had broad enough shoulders, but looked all together too jolly. But surround him with some of the ugly bunch at the bar downstairs and the effect was balanced out.
"So you'll need to liaison down at the landfill," Grady told him. "Soon as Oswald comes round, he'll tell you what to do."
"You don't call him Penguin?" asked Connor who in Grady's opinion, should have had a better understanding of annoying nicknames.
She shook her head. "He doesn't like me to."
Connor squinted at her. "You his girl?"
"I'm not anyone's anything," Grady snapped.
"Cripes, I was asking, not piss taking." He waited for Grady to elaborate, but she didn't. "Where's he been anyway?"
Oswald had been missing again for over two days.
"Doing something dangerous I'm sure," Grady picked at her food and shrugged, but based on the last week, she did not take this as a good sign at all.
"Kind of weird a little guy, but gutsy," Connor said. "Sort of like you."
"I'm flattered," she grunted.
"It's a compliment," he shrugged. "Oh yeah, this girl came in wanting to know if we needed an accountant. Florence something or other. What do you think?"
"I sure as hell don't have time to do it myself. Send her my way, I need to make sure she can count and such."
Connor laughed and dug in his pockets for a scrap of paper. "Alright, well here's her number. No insult to your company, but I was going to shoot some pool..." He jerked a thumb at the stairs.
"Go on then," Grady said. It was time she went home anyway.
There was a light on in her apartment behind her shop. Her stomach flopped in a strange and awful way that churned the pint she had drank. It was relief that Oswald must have returned, but also fear that someone else waited inside. The second option was ridiculous, but odd things had been happening. Fionn kept pacing around looking out windows and the night before there had been a loud crash in the alley.
"Don't be a coward O'Grady," she told herself, but her hand went inside her jacket to the pistol at her hip.
Sure enough she found Oswald on the couch and released the breath she was holding. Like last time, his clothes were a jumble and there was no black eye, but he did have scabs and blood smears all over his face.
"Thank god it's you," she pulled her hand from her jacket.
"Who were you expecting," he smile faltered.
"Nobody," she shook her head. "Where have you been now and what's happened to your face?"
To her surprise he laughed.
"What is wrong with you?" She leaned in to examine the cuts and he beamed. "You look like the cat that ate the canary."
"Close enough," he smirked. "I was disappointed you weren't home, watching the cameras, up on the news."
"I've been a bit busy," she flopped onto the couch. "So if you'd care to enlighten me."
He stifled giggles like a child who was about to burst with excitement. "I told you we had to hold onto the evidence against Liza until things came to a boil. Until she could really hurt him. Fish made her move and well...let's say this wounded Don Falcone. He took it very personally. Without the evidence we collected, who knows what could have happened. And now Fish... Fish is no more."
Grady stared. "She's dead?"
"Well she's not dead yet," he shrugged. "But I'm sure it's just a matter of time."
It was Grady's turned to laugh. "You're joking. Tell me all of it."
When he was finished, she ran her hands through her hair, thinking quickly and wildly. "This is good," she babbled. "This bloody well changes things, in many ways, it evens up the game. By a long shot. But it's also become a lot more dangerous." She raised a finger for emphasis. "I'm not knocking anything you've accomplished. But we cannot count Fish out unless we see her corpse."
"Well certainly," Oswald agreed. "But we have many more options than she does at this point."
"That's true. But she's slippery." Grady rested her chin on her first. "I don't like this business with Maroni," she said slowly. "It's not your fault, but we have to change plans. He's going to watch you closely now."
Oswald cleared his throat. "Yes, I've thought of this but... I've allowed myself to enjoy a bit of victory first."
Grady smiled gently at the pride on his face. "Thinking less of battles won and more of the war at large is what keeps you alive... but enjoy it now. I'll think on what we should do, I'll need you down here sharpish tomorrow though."
"I hoped to clean up a bit," he said. "And then I do have to return to the club. It doesn't seem fitting you can't join me. This was as much your effort as mine. As I said, without that compact...things might have turned out very differently."
"Go on with ya," Grady shrugged. "It's not like I've never been to Fish's club. Nah...you want to reward me? Stop trying to get yourself killed. That's twice in two weeks now."
"I'll give you the first one, but the second was purely an accident," he argued.
"Out of all the people that mad electrician could have come across it had to be you," she sighed. "Honestly though, I'm begging you, try not to get hurt for a good month at least. I'm not sure I can do this without you and I know I don't want to."
They were quiet for an unsure moment. Teasing did not come as easily as it once I had.
"Well," Oswald said at last. "I'll try my best."
"Good," Grady said and thumped him on the arm.
She leaned on the bathroom door frame as he washed the blood from his face. "I ought to put a distress signal in your umbrella," she said. "So I can bail you out next time."
"I'd say we're even," he mumbled around a towel as he dried his face. "You jumped in the river and took a beating from Pat Hannigan."
"Well I-," she began, but couldn't think of an argument.
"Good night Grady," he said.
"You missed a spot. And well done by the way," she scrubbed at a spot on his cheek with her sleeve. And then she planted a kiss there, aware she was giving encouragement and prepared to accept the consequences.
Instead he gave her a self conscious smile. "I might not say no," he said. "To a distress signal."
"Go on," she said and he was out the door.
If they had made such tremendous progress, Grady wasn't sure why she was feeling more uneasy than when they had first begun.
