Chapter One: Sharks are like Criminals, they come when there's wounded.
Holly sat with a bored expression on her face, her finger pad on the tip of a pen as she rocked it back and forth while reading over a report of that week's finances. Her mind was on nothing but the numbers before her. Numbers did not tell lies, not until she made them. They had no good nor bad, they were fact and she understood them. It had become important to make them lie though. Ever since Gotham fell to the level of mass terrorism it got a swift kick in the ass to take crime more seriously. The judicial departments were gouged through trying to find the crooked – and the city had appointed a brave new district attorney to do it. They were particularly cracking down on the mafias without an ounce of fear or corruption and had started to go after their money; Holly knew why Salvatore wanted her now. It was not about just Holly though. He had every bookie from Falcone's old lineup working for him and was even bringing in outside resources to keep the empire financially sound.
Having spotted a discrepancy the pen was rocked into her hand and taken to a writing position. She marked it with a circle then a little star, going back through the report to check the other oddity she'd marked. She would shred this copy later and then incinerate it along with any others from today.
Holly heard footsteps stop in front of her open door, "Hey, I need you for a minute."
Her eyes slid up to look over her glasses, "What? Need help to tie your shoes?" The pen was taken from the paper into her fingers, slowly spinning between them as someone new to the action would.
"Har-fuckin-har." Steve rolled his eyes and took a long gulp of coffee he had with him, "You know, Holly I'm your boss now," He spoke with a smug face and superior tone, "and I don't deserve your sass." He was standing at the threshold of her tiny office.
The office was even smaller than it needed to be with her packrat nature. Plants crowded the window like a miniature ecosystem, there were strangely labeled and multi-colored folders on every surface, and ledgers that were neatly tucked onto a high wall shelf had more piled haphazardly on them looking like they may break the poor shelf from the weight. Among the discord filing cabinets lined one wall and upon them were folded blankets and pillows atop those. The woman was an obvious workaholic, most nights she did not leave the office and they all suspected that she was the one who constantly stocked the shared fridge with an over-abundant amount of plain Greek yogurt during the night.
"Oh yes, how could I forget, you're the boss. That's why we work out of a drop point and your job is about to be fully handed off to someone whose name resembles a noodle dish," Holly set the pen down and scooted out of the desk chair, "what do you need me to fix now?"
"That attitude."
Holly stared at him, "Steve." She paused to see if he would say anything, "You know. I'm sorry, you're right, we don't really know each other that well for me to joke like that. Maybe we can bond, you should join me for game night sometime."
He blinked, "When do you leave the office? Do you even have friends?" He was trying to jab back at her.
"Oh yes, well I currently play alone. I've always thought Russian roulette needs more than one," Holly was indeed telling Steve to kill himself. Harassing Steve had grown on her, in reality, the woman just had no other outlet for her ire. She ended with a customer service voice and smile, "In any case, I was about to take a break, what did you need me for?"
He only sipped his coffee and turned to have her follow him down the hall.
Steven Mason had only worked with Holly Kingsley off and on, he'd never truly been exposed to the woman unless she was on call for Falcone or looking over his books to compare them to what she had on record. He had not known what to expect but this was not it. He still thought the woman was a cunt – that had not changed. Steven would never admit to being jealous, he honestly believed he was not. The day she tried to intimidate him had been a thorn in his side, he got a new unimaginative nickname that day, Scaredy Shoelace Steve. He worked hard to get rid of that one and coming to work for Salvatore had been the right move for him. Once Sal took over for Falcone's family as well it just put him in the greatest position he could ask for. Steve was now the guy, the legend; the bookkeeper who was certainly not stealing money from his boss.
When they reached his space it was a stark contrast to hers. Everything had a place and was in its place, his office was tidy to the point it made her feel like she needed to be scrubbed down before entering. Not that she was filthy. She took showers, at the local gym a mile down every morning.
Steve handed Holly a folder to read and after a few minutes of her silently reading he asked, "So?"
"Oh, you want my opinion? Jeez boss how kind of you to consider it." She dropped the sarcasm at his scowl, "I think there's money missing."
Steve crept closer to look over her shoulder, "Oh yeah? Where?"
"You tell me." She held the folder up for him to take.
He did not take it. Instead he asked defensively, "What you getting' at Kingsley?"
"I just mean this is for those drugs from the Ruskie right?" Holly closed it and set it on his desk, "Kind of a weird amount if you ask me. Either you've got dealers rolling out two for ones or someone's just plain stealing from you."
Steve snatched the folder. As he opened it up Holly waited and stopped him from flipping through once he got to the right page. She tapped on the spot, "Yeah, look. Right here, this and the total make no sense unless you're paying someone every third-ish week without marking it. Are you?" They typically did not use the computers for this work, it was easier to trace and only the final ledger reports that had been correctly altered by them that were entered in compliance with government regulations.
Steve squinted at the paper, flipping the page over to check a couple of times, "That cocksucking moth-…"
Holly covered her ears, "I don't want to know who sucks your dick," She turned away taking a step towards the door before asking, "Was that all you needed?"
"Yeah."
She could hear him pulling other records and likely going to check them for similar oddities as she left. The woman did not tell him she'd noticed a long while ago he was skimming money off the top from Salvatore, which would sort itself out. As much as it was always humorous to watch Steve get frustrated she felt that if she refused to help him sort out other problems - such as dealers scamming them - she'd have more than broken ribs.
Holly placed her hand on her side. The fractures had nearly healed and the bruising had faded for the most part. Yet every time she saw herself in the mirror she was reminded. The worst part was the doctors had forbidden her from smoking. They had a myriad of reasons to convince her of why too.
Generally, it was bad for her health. Smoking would also cause her to cough more – which coughing hurt like hell presently – and they were worried about the increased risk of infection. Something had just slightly punctured into her right lung, and while it was all sealed up now it did not mean she may not have problems later. At least it all gave her a better reason to improve her quality of life by quitting.
Holly lifted her eyes toward the ceiling with an annoyed sigh as she got into the elevator. Returning her gaze down to watch the numbers above it lit up as she went from floor to floor down to the ground level. It was too early to go drinking, Holly thought, as she exited. She just needed a breather, no pun intended, from the office and being reminded she worked for the mob. Quickly exiting the front of the bank she trotted down the stone steps. She may try the newly opened Sunbucks down the street – all of them were exactly the same, be that as it may, it was delightful coffee.
Out onto the busy midday Gotham sidewalk, the bright rays of a summer afternoon felt warm. These kinds of days were rare in the city. They were like little reminders that the world could still be a warm and loving place full of hope and glass…
Glass?
As she began her walk shards of glass twinkled down in front of her. Holly had stopped just in time. The others in front of her were hit though and at worst it was mostly unpleasant. Much of the glass seemed to have just gone into the road. Those on the sidewalk all looked up. Searching for the source.
Holly raised both brows… were those people ziplining from the building across the street to the roof of the bank?
No one in Gotham cared. Those below went back to their own business and Holly? She thought perhaps she'd have a cup of some lavishly good espresso today and maybe one of those strange fruit scones they always promoted. Walking away while wondering if the treats might still be on sale.
Whoever was wackadoodle enough to steal from a mob bank could find out why they were called loan sharks the hard way.