Chapter 10

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the window of Charon's office, illuminating piles of paperwork stacked high on the captain's desk. The scratching noise of a pen nib on paper paused when a light knock came from the door.

"Come in," Charon answered as Alex and Fakir appeared from behind the door, both dressed for travel and each carrying a briefcase.

As the young men removed their hats and coats, Charon pushed himself off his chair and poured two glasses of water. "Here," the captain said, offering the water to the weary officers. "You boys have had a busy day, first driving to Linden, then to Elizabeth."

While the younger men downed the proffered glasses, Charon circled back to his seat. "How did it go? Did Linden PD have a copy of the incident report?"

"Yes, it's right here," Alex answered. Setting the emptied glass back on the cabinet, Alex wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, then pulled out a large manila envelope from his briefcase and handed it to Charon.

Untying the cord enclosing the envelope, Charon quickly skimmed the record provided by Linden PD. The noise of shuffling paper halted when Charon's eyes reached a sheet toward the end.

"‛Deceased was found with multiple gunshot wounds… once in the shoulder, once in the arm… gunshot wound through right temple'?" the captain read aloud, his brows furrowed at this last description before looking back up to Alex. "Did you have a chance to speak with the officers who made contact with Vermi?"

"We did," Alex confirmed, pulling out his notepad as he prepared to recount the interviews he and Fakir had conducted earlier that day. "The patrol officers spotted Vermi's car near the New York-New Jersey border, just past the Standard Oil refinery. They said the car was going very fast, and as it was dark and frequented by bootleggers, they initially thought the car was transporting hooch. They chased the car for a couple miles before the Model T finally pulled over, but when they tried to approach the vehicle, the driver started shooting at them, forcing them to fire back.

"That area was very poorly lit, and the officers couldn't tell how many people were in the car, so they didn't dare approach the vehicle until they ceased being fired upon. By the time they looked in the car they'd found that there was only one occupant, in the driver seat, who had already expired. In spite of their expectations, they didn't find hooch, but they recovered a pistol next to the deceased, as well as a shotgun, ammunition, some blankets and a bag containing clothes, food wrappers, and receipts for cheap hotels in the area, the most recent of which was dated a month ago."

"It sounds like Vermi may have been living out of the car for the last few weeks, then. That would explain why we haven't been able to locate him," Charon touched his lips thoughtfully. Back to Alex, he said, "The coroner's report hasn't been released yet, has it?"

Alex shook his head. "Not yet. But Bill, one of the two officers who encountered Worm Tongue, said when he examined the deceased with his flashlight, he could see gunpowder residue next to the head injury, which is consistent with a self-inflicted gunshot wound."

Charon shook his head. "Violent men come to violent ends…" he sighed deeply.

Shifting his gaze to Fakir, who had remained uncharacteristically reticent, the captain inquired, "And the interview with the car's owner? I know it took some time to trace the owner from the car's plate number, but the telegram from the Union County Sheriff Department this morning said they were able to locate the man at his sister's house. Was he willing to talk?"

"Yes, though he was reluctant at first," Fakir answered, looking down at the notes he'd taken. "His name is Alessandro 'Sandy' Tempesta*, and he lives in Union City, New Jersey. I looked up his record before we left for Linden, and it seems Sandy, like Worm Tongue, was a past associate of the Corvos…"

Fakir's mind traveled back to earlier in the day when he and Alex had opened the door of a spartanly furnished interview room. The man who had been resting his head on the simple wooden table looked up at the sound of the door opening, and Fakir saw a broad-shouldered man in his late 30's, dressed in worker's overalls and heavy boots. Despite his stocky build, the man blinked nervously at their entrance and leaned back into the chair he was sitting in, as though he wanted to distance himself from the two detectives.

"My name is Detective Alex Stone of the New York City Police Department, and this is my partner, Sergeant Fakir Romeiras," Alex introduced himself as they sat facing the man across the table from them.

"New York City?" Sandy Tempesta raised a brow, trying to feign nonchalance with a lopsided grin. "Whatcha big city boys want with a simple country man like me?"

"We wanted to speak with you because Linden PD recovered a stolen vehicle last night, a black Model T with a damaged front fender, which was registered to you. The person who was driving that vehicle is involved in a case that Sergeant Romeiras and I are working. A homicide case," Alex said quietly, and those last two words wiped the smile from Sandy's face.

Alex glanced at Fakir, who gave his partner a small nod before the brunet continued, "We've looked up your record, and despite your claims of being a country man, you are actually quite the city slicker. You have a record that spans over a decade in New York… bootlegging, theft, mail fraud. The last time you were arrested, you were with a man named Anthony 'Worm Tongue' Vermi. When was the last time you saw Worm Tongue?"

"…Eh, it was a long time ago," Sandy shrugged, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I haven't seen that fella since the day we got nabbed. It's been, what? Five years now?" Trying to sound casual, he asked, "Why? Did he get into something?"

"He's dead," Fakir locked eyes with Sandy, catching an expression of shock flit across the older man's face. "The reason why you're here is that his body was found in a car registered to you."

Sandy exhaled deeply, and the detectives watched as the nonchalant act slipped away, replaced by a visible display of relief, as though an invisible weight had suddenly been lifted off his chest. Sitting with his hands clasped on the table, the room fell silent for a long minute before Sandy looked up and asked quietly, "You're sure? Him being dead, that is?"

"As a doornail," Fakir answered bitterly, crossing his arms across his chest. "He killed himself after being stopped by Linden PD. They found a pistol and a shotgun in the car. Did the weapons belong to you—"

"No," Sandy answered quickly. Letting out a long sigh, the ex-con shook his head and leaned forward, finally willing to fully engage with the detectives. "Yeah, that's my car. But the guns aren't mine… nor do I have anything to do with whatever it was that dumb block got himself into! That's all him, and he brought it all on himself!"

"Tell us what you know, Sandy," Alex urged, his pen hovering expectantly over his notepad. "Worm Tongue is dead. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

Sandy let out another sigh before he said, "Alright… you're right, Worm Tongue and I used to hustle together. But after my last stint in prison I told myself I've had enough of the gang life. I moved outta New York and settled in Union City, away from the Corvos, and took up an honest job making car parts. Life wasn't flashy or fast, but it's nice to have a family to go back to every night," Sandy said with a pause, then smiled.

Fakir studied Sandy's expression and recognized the genuine affection on the grizzled man's face. An unwitting pang of empathy echoed through Fakir's chest even as the conflicting feelings within him contorted his lips into a grimace.

Continuing with his story, the smile faded from Sandy's face and his expression grew solemn. "I heard that Worm Tongue had been released while I was still serving my time. After I came out I'd heard rumors that the ol' block had started working full time for Principe, Don Corvo's right-hand man. I didn't want nothing to do with them anymore, and nobody paid me any mind when I left the city. Given how big the Corvos were back then, I figured they'd probably already found a replacement for me by the time I got out, which was just fine with me. Worm Tongue went his way, and I went mine. But then about a month ago, after I had just finished my shift at the plant that evening, the foreman tells me there's someone waitin' for me by the front gate. I went out to see who it was, and it was 'ol Worm Tongue."

"What did you two talk about?" Alex pressed, the pen in his hand pausing as they waited for Sandy to continue.

"He wanted help to do a lick on someone," Alessandro Tempesta said with a click of his tongue. "He said a copper in New York and a witness to one of Principe's hits were responsible for Principe and the Don's death, and that he wanted to kill the copper and witness to avenge Principe."

"Did he say who the police officer and the witness were? Did he know their names?" Fakir interjected, eyes staring intensely as he waited for Sandy to answer.

"He didn't give me any names, but he said word on the street is that the copper the Nitti brothers roughed up was at the warehouse in Chicago where Principe and the Don were killed. He figured that the copper must have been the one who set them up."

Alex glanced apprehensively at Fakir, whose expression was dark but otherwise unreadable. Sensing Fakir's reserve, the junior detective stepped in and continued with the questioning. "So from what you're saying, Worm Tongue wasn't actually there at the warehouse in Chicago?"

"Didn't seem like it. And honestly, I'm not really surprised. I read about that whole hoopla in the papers. I don't usually read the news—there's too much crap and nonsense if you ask me—but that was such a huge story, even I wanted to know what had happened! Seemed like the Don wanted to cement a deal with the fellas in Chicago, but it went south, badly. For an important meeting like that, I honestly can't imagine they'd bring Worm Tongue along. He's… not to speak ill of the dead, but he's not the sharpest tool in the shed, and has the shortest fuse of any man I'd never met to boot.

"He wanted to be respected and taken seriously, but with his lisp and his appearance, people tended to make fun of him. They usually regretted it though, because his temper flared at the drop of a hat, and I've seen him beat up more than a few men who've badmouthed him within earshot. But Principe was different. From what I recall Worm Tongue looked up to Principe. Even though neither of us saw much of Principe back then, when we did meet him Principe always treated us with respect and never once patronized him. That's probably what made him embark on this whole loony idea of getting revenge: his undying loyalty to Principe."

"I see…" Alex said as he wrote all this down while Fakir seemed lost in his own thoughts. "Now, going back to the night he came to talk to you. What did you do after Vermi told you his plans?"

"I wanted to tell him he was crazy!" Sandy threw up his hands and slapped them down on his knees. "But I knew better than to do that! I tried to tell him that it's unfortunate what had happened to Principe, but what's happened has happened. I tried to tell him that he still had his whole life ahead of him, and that he should let the past be the past. But that just managed to set off that temper of his and he started cursing at me, calling me a traitor. 'You're a coward, just like Marco,' he told me, and insisted that he would avenge Principe if it was the last thing he did."

Here Sandy shook his head distastefully. "After that he made me give him the keys for my car, and threatened to kill me and my family if I said anything to anyone."

"And that's why you never reported the car missing," Alex offered, to which Sandy nodded.

"I thought giving him the car would be the end of it," Sandy said bitterly, "but that bastard came back about a week ago. He was waiting for me to finish work and drove up just as I was leaving the plant. He started cussing me out, saying, 'You've been talking to the police, haven't you? You son of a bitch!'

"I told him I didn't know what he was talking about, that I haven't talked to anyone. I saw him reach for something in the car, and I took off running back toward the plant. He must've let off two or three shots, but thank God none of them hit me! The plant supervisor heard the gunshots and came out to see what the hell was goin' on, but by then Worm Tongue had driven off."

"What did you do after that?" Alex asked. "Did you report the incident?"

Sandy huffed. "After all that do you really think I'd dare say anything? Nah, officer. I told the other boys I didn't know who that was or why he fired at me. I think the plant supervisor said somethin' about reporting it to the police, but I wanted nothin' to do with it. Without another word, I left straight for home, and as soon as I got there, I grabbed my wife and kids and went to my sister's place in Elizabeth."

Jotting that down, Alex looked back up. "And was that the last time you saw Worm Tongue?"

Sandy nodded. "I dropped everything to get away from him. Hell, I didn't even tell my supervisor I had left town! I'm sure I'm gonna be out of a job now… Then, this morning, the coppers show up at my sister's place, asking me to come down to the police station. To be honest, I wasn't real keen on coming in…" Sandy gave the detectives a wane, lopsided smile, "…but I'm glad I did, cus now I know I don't have to keep looking over my shoulder anymore."

When no more questions came his way, Sandy leaned back into his chair and stared at the plastered ceiling. "I know you fellas probably think I'm a chicken for not reporting Worm Tongue… but I left New York and the Corvos behind so I can be a daddy for my kids. My eldest was barely a month old when I last went into the slammer, and that's when I realized that if I continued on this path, my boy was going to grow up never knowing his father. I was so happy when I finally came out, held my wife and baby, and saw my son smile at me for the first time… having a family, it really changes you, officers," the former gangster tilted his head back down and Fakir noticed the blue color of Sandy's misty eyes for the first time, and he could not help but be reminded of a girl with similar colored eyes.

"I can't imagine what I'd do without them… my wife, my two kids… They mean the world to me, and I'd do anything to protect them."

Back in the captain's office, the notepaper in Fakir's hand rustled as he turned a page.

"I see…" Charon said, his hands resting under his chin, "that certainly helps to fill in some of the gaps in Worm Tongue's activities these last few weeks," the senior officer said contemplatively.

Straightening his back, Charon picked up a notebook on his desk and opened it to the portion earmarked with a pen. "While the two of you were in New Jersey, Wilson and I paid a visit to the soda shop across from Hal's Ballroom. I think we can now deduce what prompted Vermi to stalk Rina at her apartment."

Fakir's eyes narrowed. "Did the shopkeeper know something about it?"

"Yes. This shopkeeper, unbeknownst to herself, had a more direct role in that series of events than any of us initially thought," Charon looked down at his notes. "Remember how Rina had described the shopkeeper as 'loose-tongued'? Well, that is quite an apt description for this woman, whose name is Delia Croquer.* She is rather… peculiar. For someone approaching her eighth decade, her memory is very sharp, but she is also remarkably naïve and talkative—a dangerous combination in this instance.

"When Wilson and I asked her about Anthony Vermi, she immediately recalled him. He had bought a pack of cigarettes and asked if she had seen Annie Grant lately. She had told him she had last seen Annie—that is, Rina Rogowski—a few days earlier. Mrs. Croquer recalled Annie looked particularly haggard that day, and Annie confided to her that a student she was teaching had given her a hard time. She said Annie didn't go into detail about what the student had done, just that he had asked her all sorts of probing questions, and it had left her visibly flustered and upset. After Ms. Croquer told Vermi that, he then proceeded to ask Mrs. Croquer if she knew where Annie lived. Just as Rina told us over the phone, Mrs. Croquer gave Vermi Annie's street address, but fortuitously, could not recall her house number."

Across the desk, Alex frowned. "I wonder what made Vermi shift his focus from Sandy to Rina? Based on the dates they've given us, it seems Vermi first shot at Sandy, then came back to New York to stalk Rina, even though by then Vermi knew we were looking for him."

Charon set his notes down and pursed his lips. "It's hard to say. All of the other past associates we've spoken to claim to have not had contact with Vermi in a long time. It's possible that they're telling the truth, and Vermi only revealed his intentions to Sandy, Rina, and—based on Sandy's statement—Marco Corioli. Vermi knew Sandy and Rina were the only people alive who have any inklings about his plans, so after an unsuccessful attempt on Sandy's life, Vermi shifted his focus to Rina. If Vermi is indeed responsible for Marco Corioli's murder, then it's likely the gun found next to his body is the same weapon that killed Marco."

The captain turned to Fakir. "Speaking of which, did Linden PD send the pistol they recovered to the Bureau of Forensic Ballistics?"

"Yes, they said they've sent it over already. If Col. Goddard is able to match a bullet fired from that gun to the bullets recovered from Marco Corioli's body, then we'll know for certain Vermi was the one who killed him."

Charon nodded in agreement. Lacing his fingers together, the senior police man said, "I think based on all the testimonies and evidence we've gathered so far, Anthony Vermi's timeline is something roughly like this… At some point during the summer, Vermi hears a rumor that the detective who was kidnapped by Principe and the Nitti brothers was present at the shootout in Chicago that resulted in the death of Domenico Corvo and Principe.

"Thinking that detective was responsible for his boss' death, an agitated Vermi expresses his anger and desire for revenge to Rina. He decides to recruit someone to help him, and the first person he contacted was Marco Corioli. When Marco refuses his offer, in a fit of rage, Vermi shoots and kills him. A few days later, Vermi pays a visit to Sandy for the first time, and when Sandy also refuses, he steals the car from Sandy."

As Charon spoke, Fakir sat motionless in his chair, his eyebrows drawn tightly together. Charon's voice paused for a moment. The captain's hooded eyes sought Fakir's, and his tone was hushed when he spoke again. "My guess is Vermi started following you around this time, Fakir. Your name and photo were printed in all the major newspapers when you and Mr. Brahms were kidnapped back in December. It wouldn't have been very difficult for Vermi to recognize you. Luckily, we were able to keep Miss Stannus' name out of it all, so he did not realize her involvement… at least, not directly."

The corners of Fakir's lips twitched, and the notepaper in his hand wrinkled as he clenched his fingers. Charon paused again as if to collect his thoughts, before continuing, "Around the same time Marco was killed, your contact informs you about what Rina had overheard, and we pick up Vermi's trail. Knowing we were onto him, Vermi eschews the cheap hotels he'd been staying at and started sleeping in the car, possibly in the wooded areas just outside the city limits, to avoid detection.

"Being of a vengeful nature, he wanted to know who had snitched on him. He first suspected Sandy and confronted him, but luckily for Sandy, he came away from the encounter unharmed. Vermi next turns his suspicions to Rina, but she also manages to elude him. I think these failed attempts only serve to anger him further, and so he decides to confront you directly. But due to a stroke of Fate, he finds Miss Stannus instead, and now… well, we are left to tell his tale, as he's now deceased."

With those final words the room became still. Neither Fakir nor Alex made any sound, and the only noises in the office were the muffled voices of the other police officers and the drone of late afternoon traffic from outside the window.

Alex, whose gaze had been fixed to his notes, looked up. "Even though we know all this now… the case will be closed by exception, won't it? Anthony Vermi is dead. And there's no way to prosecute a dead man."

"That is correct," Charon responded quietly. "Nevertheless, we will need to summarize everything and write it up for the DA. Can you do that, Alex?"

There was a moment of awkward silence as Alex stole a fleeting glance at his dark-haired mentor. Fakir, as the lead on the Marco Corioli case, would normally be the one responsible for writing the final report. But with Fakir now being far more personally involved than anyone first thought, Alex recognized that it fell upon him, as the secondary lead, to present this case to the district attorney's office.

The junior officer drew a deep breath, and straightening his back, answered solemnly, "Yes, sir."

"Excellent. We can adjourn until the next meeting, then. Good work, both of you."

With that, the detectives stood to take their leave. But before Fakir could turn to collect his coat, Charon said softly, "Fakir, can you stay for a little while longer?"

Alex's eyes darted to Fakir, who only gave a mute nod in response. Once the young brunet had quietly closed the door behind him, Fakir returned to his seat and there was a palpable tension in the room as Fakir waited to hear what Charon had to say.

"Before I left to interview Mrs. Croquer this morning, I called Commissioner Enright."

Fakir's eyes shot up, and his already furrowed brows drew closer together, but he did not interrupt Charon, who watching him with a concerned, fatherly gaze. "I asked the Commissioner if the transfer to Rochester he had offered earlier this year was still on the table. Commissioner Enright told me he would speak with his friend, to see if a position is open. But even if there wasn't an open position, he promised me he would try to work something out if you are willing to move to Rochester."

There was a long silence in the room at the end of that last sentence. Charon could tell Fakir was torn, as the usually assertive young man made no comment at this suggestion. The captain could not fault Fakir for his hesitance, given the magnitude of the decision he had just placed in front of Fakir.

But the detective's protracted silence prompted the captain to say, "I know you've decided on staying here, but given this last case… Fakir, I think you should reconsider the Commissioner's offer. It is not just for your own safety…" Charon paused, and though guilt stilled his words for a moment, he was compelled to say, "…You have to consider Miss Stannus' long term safety and well-being as well."

Taking a deep breath, Charon stared down at his clasped hands, recalling Fakir and Duck's intertwined hands as the young man sat kneeling before the shaken young woman. "I can tell… that the two of you have grown very close."

Fakir looked sharply at Charon, but the captain seemed to have anticipated this and greeted Fakir's startled gaze with a small smile. "I am happy for you," the older man said sincerely, but his smile faded, and he said grimly, "but in this instance, I feel I must play the devil's advocate. The shared history between the two of you, combined with your physical proximity to one another, greatly increases the chances that any dredges of the Corvo gang out for blood will encounter both of you, just as Antony Vermi had. This has already happened once, and there is no guarantee there aren't others like Vermi out there. Reconsider the Commissioner's offer, Fakir. You must do what is best for you, but also for Miss Stannus, as well."

Silence returned to the office. After a long minute, Fakir stirred. Raising stiffly from his chair, he whispered, "Let me think about it…"

"Of course," Charon acknowledged.

Without another word, Fakir turned to gather his belongings, and with a heavy heart and conflicted thoughts, he exited the room and closed the door behind him.

The soft "clack" of the cabinet door opening interrupted the stillness of the Kotin Pointe Shoe shop as Duck and Lillie took out a tin bucket, brooms, mops, and rags.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're back today, Duck!" Lillie exclaimed. Turning to her coworker, who had just returned with the bucket filled with water, the blonde leaned against her mop and moped. "When you suddenly didn't show on Monday, I was so worried! Thankfully you were well enough to send a telegram, so we know you were just feeling under the weather! To tell you the truth, I was beginning to suspect you had eloped with the Sheik!"

While Lillie giggled over her fantasy, Duck attempted to push a wan smile to her lips. "Eh… yeah, sorry about that. I would've sent a telegram sooner, but I really wasn't feeling well that day and wanted to stay in bed…"

Breaking eye contact with Lillie, Duck glanced nervously at Zurab, who was watching them from a stool next to the counter. Of course, both she and Zurab knew the story of her being ill was a fabrication. Though Duck had made Zurab promise he would not tell anyone—not even Miss Edel—about what had transpired, she could not help but worry if the gregarious child would live up to that promise. But Zurab said nothing, his only response was to rock his feet up and down as he watched them work.

Seeing Zurab's silence, Duck sighed quietly in relief. Yet, in the same measure, Duck felt a stab of guilt in her chest. It wasn't right to teach a child to lie, but she had no other choice.

Looking back at Lillie, who was now rattling off possible pen names she had come up with, Duck wished she could tell her friend the truth behind her absence as her mind drifted back to the aftermath of her encounter with Worm Tongue.

Duck couldn't remember how long she sat huddled on the floor of her kitchen, tears and terror streaming out in equal measure. It might've been minutes or hours; Duck had lost track of time. But once her cries finally subsided, and she sluggishly roused herself to stand again, Zurab had helped her clean up, and they spent the remainder of Sunday cooped up in her apartment.

But by Monday morning, Duck was faced with the dilemma of what to do about work. With no idea where her assailant was, Duck could not find the courage to leave her home. Desperate, she had considered sending Zurab to send a telegram from the post office two blocks away, but the thought of asking a toddler to find his way across busy city streets on his own, when she had been the one charged with caring for him, was hard for the young woman to stomach.

Luckily, a solution to her dilemma came in the form of a pair of officers who were changing shifts with their colleagues. Seeing their car pull up by her window, she waved at them, and managed to catch their attention. After entrusting her message to the officer who'd come to check on her, Duck was given a short respite. However, new predicaments soon presented themselves as the evening dragged on.

Her excuse of being ill might have sufficed for a few days, but what if Anthony Vermi was never caught? Duck knew she could not possibly stay cooped up in her home forever, nor could the police afford to station guards outside her door for the rest of her life. On top of that, she was also set to bring Zurab back to Miss Edel the next day. But the thought of having to step outside, knowing the possibility that that man might come back, if not for her then for Fakir, made Duck's stomach twist into a tight knot.

Duck wrestled with what she ought to do late into the night. After having put Zurab to bed but finding sleep elusive for herself, she made a pot of chamomile tea and sat in the kitchen, staring blankly at the cup of warm liquid in her hand. With every noise outside her door, her jaw would tense and her heart would begin to race. When the footsteps continued elsewhere, Duck found herself equal parts relieved, but also disappointed.

It wasn't Fakir… Duck thought, waiting for the familiar pattern of footsteps beside her door announcing the detective's return. That morning, as her mind languished between restless sleep and wakefulness, she groggily remembered hearing his door close and the sound of his footsteps retreating down the stairs in the early hours of the morning. Throughout the day, in between all of her other worries, Duck's thoughts often turned back to Fakir, and whether he was staying safe as he pursued Worm Tongue.

Fakir said I'm the bravest person he's ever met… but I'm the one who's too scared to step outside my door… Duck thought ruefully, staring down at the surface of her teacup.

Raising the cup to her lips, Duck sipped the tea meant to sooth her nerves. Hours passed, until the tea in the peony-painted pot had completely cooled; yet, there was no hint of sleep or Fakir's return.

With a resigned sigh, Duck rose, and was about to pour out the teapot when rapid footsteps came up the stairs and rapped on her door.

"Miss Stannus! I just received an update from the precinct!"

The sudden commotion made Duck's heart leap into her throat. A second later, once the realization that it was one of officers on guard duty who was speaking through the door, Duck unlocked her door for the first time in more than a day and peeked out.

The breathless young man who met her eyes gasped, "I just got word that Vermi is dead, miss!"

Duck remembered being at a loss for words when she heard the news. An enormous weight had been lifted from her shoulders; yet strangely, since that moment, her heart had not grown any lighter.

Back at the pointe shoe shop, Duck knelt down on the floor and rolled up her sleeves as she submerged the rag into the bucket of water. Despite Lillie's excited chatter, the gloom that shrouded Duck's mind made it hard to concentrate.

Duck nodded absently as her friend knelt down next to her and said, "But you know, after thinking about it, I think I'm going to go with 'Yuri'! The name is a bit exotic sounding, but I think it sounds loads better than 'Pudding', wouldn't you say?"

"Sure…" Duck muttered, and her detached response drew a dissatisfied pout from Lillie.

"Oh, come on, Duck! You don't sound interested at all! You're so quiet today. Is your stomach still not feeling well? You don't have a fever, do you?" Lillie leaned in to touch Duck's forehead, but Duck raised her arm to block Lillie's hand.

"No, I'm fine…" Duck began to say, but the sudden sight of the now green and purple bruise on Duck's arm made Lillie go still.

"What happened to your arm?" the blonde asked, the usually syrupy tone in her voice gone.

Duck hurriedly pulled down her sleeve, but this only made Lillie look with renewed concern at her friend.

"I-I, uh, accidentally bumped my arm into a-a table over the weekend," Duck stuttered.

Lillie's thin brows furrowed. "But that bruise is wrapped halfway around your arm, Duck…" Lowering her voice, the blonde whispered, "Did the Sheik—did Fakir do that to you?"

"No!" Duck exclaimed, her voice startling both Lillie and Zurab. Shocked by her own outburst, Duck lowered her voice and insisted, "I-It… it really was just an accident. Fakir had—" Here the redhead's breath halted involuntarily, "…he had nothing to do with it."

Lillie's lips twisted to the side. Though her expression indicated she was unconvinced by Duck's assertion, the blonde decided not to push the matter and laid her hand on Duck's shoulder.

"If you say so. But if you ever want to talk about anything, I'll be here," Lillie said softly.

The change in Lillie's mannerisms took Duck by surprise. The blonde so consistently maintained a vivacious—at times outrageous—personality that Duck had never seen her being soft-spoken in all the years that they'd known each other. For a second, Duck was unsure how to respond. But Duck could see that the concern on Lillie's round face was genuine, and that knowledge was enough for a small smile—the first in days—to appear on the redhead's lips.

"…Thank you, Lillie," Duck said.

Lillie responded with an equally subdued nod. As the blonde returned to her own chores, Duck, grateful for the ensuing silence, turned her mind to the familiar task of cleaning.

But the stillness did not last, as a few minutes later the bell on the door tinkled and Mr. Kotin and a tall woman talked in.

"Ah, good morning, Mr. Kotin!" Duck greeted as she and Lillie hurriedly gathered at the door.

"A fair morning to you as well, Miss Duck, Miss Lillie!" the mustachioed man said, holding his hat to his chest. With an elegant sweep of his hand, Mr. Kotin gestured to the well-dressed woman behind him, "I believe some of you had met before, but allow me to introduce to you my fiancée, the light of my heart, star of Rossiya, Miss Anna Belyky!"

The woman removed her felt cloche hat, revealing short, stylishly-cut platinum blond hair. With a fond smile, she glanced at her soon-to-be husband and giggled, "My goodness, you needn't make such a grand introduction for me, Vaslav!" she said in a lightly accented voice. "If this keeps up, people will think I'm a self-styled grand duchess!"

"Oh, but you are indeed a princess in my heart, my love!" Mr. Kotin professed, sweeping up one of Anna's hand's and kissing it reverently.

Duck and Lillie watched this exchange with a mixture of awe and awkward amusement. So effective was Mr. Kotin's effusiveness, Duck even momentarily forgot about her own troubles as she smiled at the tall blonde.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Belyky. I'm Duck Stannus," Duck introduced herself, and the grinning blonde behind her followed suit. "And I'm Lillie Molière!"*

"It's so nice to meet you girls!" Anna said, then turned to Duck. "Vaslav has told me so much about you, Duck! I can see you are every bit the cute, sweet girl he described to me!"

"Oh!" Duck blinked, surprised by the compliment. Letting out a short, embarrassed laugh, she looked down at her feet and said, "T-Thank you! You're too kind!"

Turning to Lillie, the tall woman cooed, "And Lillie, I must say, I absolutely adore your hair! Why, when I first walked in I was certain I had just found Clara Bow herself standing in Vaslav's shop!"

The compliment elicited a sharp giggle from Lillie, who seemed to float two inches above the ground as she gushed back, "Oh, it's so lovely to have one's efforts appreciated! But you yourself have the most beautiful Charleston bob! Where did you did it done? I absolutely must know!"

"There's a salon in Brooklyn," Anna responded eagerly, "I go there all the time! The owner's name is Cynthia, and she's—"

Anna's sentence was cut short when a small voice at her feet made a long, drawn-out "Ohhh~"

Four pairs of eyes looked down and found Zurab gazing up at Anna. Extending a pudgy finger, he pointed and said, "Tall, pretty lady, zura!"

The statement drew a bemused smile to Anna's face, and she bent down to greet the little boy. "And whom might we have here?"

"Ah!" Duck interjected, hurrying to pick up Zurab. "This is Zurab! He's the nephew—er, something like that—of Miss Edel, who owns the jewelry shop next door."

"Oh, I see!" Anna clasped her hands together. To Mr. Kotin, she said, "I remember you said a neighbor had asked if her young relative could stay at the shop during the day while she traveled. This must be him, then!"

"Um, yes!" Duck interjected before Mr. Kotin could answer. As Duck looked down at Zurab, a touch of sadness returned to her eyes, and she added, "But Miss Edel is coming back today. So today will be Zurab's last day at the shop."

With introductions and greetings now complete, Mr. Kotin cleared his throat and answered the question that both Duck and Lillie were silently pondering since he and his fiancée stepped through the door. "I brought Anna here today to see which pieces of furniture we may want to keep for the new shop. We're still negotiating with the landlord for the new shop space, but Anna had the foresight to suggest that we start earmarking furniture to expedite the process once the lease agreement is finalized."

The mention of the new shop damped Duck's mood. Not wanting to let the heaviness in her heart show, Duck pushed a smile back onto her lips and said, "Of course… please let us know if you need any help."

After exchanging a few more polite words, Mr. Kotin and Anna began their survey of the shop, conversing quietly in Russian while Duck and Lillie went back to their chores. With a feather duster in hand, Lillie nudged Duck and glanced at Mr. Kotin and Anna with a twinkle in her eye, "See? Told you she was a doll!"

Duck nodded. Based on Pique and Lillie's description of Miss Belyky, Duck had imagined she must look like a princess in a storybook. And despite the exaggerated nature of Mr. Kotin's introduction, had someone actually introduced Anna as a princess, Duck would've believed them. Turning to steal a glance at the two Russians, Duck whispered back, "She is really pretty, isn't she?"

As though they had overheard her, Mr. Kotin and Anna both glance towards Duck's direction at that moment and Duck's eyes met Anna's. The woman quickly smiled at Duck, then briskly turned away to look down at the end table she and Mr. Kotin were standing over.

The awkward eye-contact also sent Duck turning back sharply to what she was doing. From there on, she avoided looking at Mr. Kotin and Anna until they had finished perusing the shop's furnishings.

Putting on his hat, Mr. Kotin said to his employees, "We will be taking our leave for the day. Please lock up the shop at closing time, Miss Duck and Miss Lillie."

"Okay, see you later, Mr. Kotin! It was nice meeting you, Miss Belyky!" Lillie responded chipperly while Duck simply waved.

Once the door had closed behind the pair and they had turned down the street, Lillie whirled around and exclaimed, "They're gone! Let's get the shop closed up!"

"Eh?" Duck blinked as Lillie raced past her to get the keys. "But closing time isn't for another hour—!"

Lillie paused and held up a finger and whispered, "I'm still under curfew, Duck! If I can get out earlier, that means I'll get an hour to myself before I have to report home to my mother!"

"Oh…" Duck mouthed. Guess I'll bring Zurab back to Miss Edel a little early then, the redhead thought reluctantly as she went to find Zurab sitting on his stool.

"Zurab, let's go see Miss Edel now," Duck said, expecting the toddler to respond eagerly at the news. But instead Zurab sat with his cheeks puffed out in a pout, his brows crossed in a frown.

"What's wrong?" Duck knelt down in front of the child, confused by the boy's sudden dour mood.

"The tall lady was mean to Duck!" the little boy grumbled, looking the girl in the eyes. "She said Duck looks old-fashioned, that she didn't match the new shop's image, zura!"

Duck blinked in surprise. "But she didn't—" she began, then remembered Zurab understood Russian, and realized that Zurab must've overheard Miss Belyky as she was speaking with Mr. Kotin. Remembering the glance Anna cast toward her earlier, Duck now wondered if the furniture wasn't the only thing the tall woman was evaluating.

Compared to Lillie, it's no wonder someone would think I look old fashioned, Duck admitted somberly to herself. While she wasn't entirely surprised by Miss Belyky's sentiment, Duck couldn't help but feel dejected as the likelihood of her staying on at the shop seemed to diminish even more.

Back to Zurab, Duck patted the child on the head and said patiently, "I know what the lady said wasn't nice, Zurab. But when you first met me, you also called me 'old-fashioned', remember? It isn't right to point fingers and judge someone else when you yourself say the same things."

Hearing this, Zurab's angry pout faded, and he looked down guiltily at his small hands. "Zurab is sorry for calling Duck old-fashioned, zura. Zurab likes Duck no matter what her hair looks like!" In a small voice, the little boy whispered, "Is Duck still mad at Zurab, zura?"

Duck wrapped her arms around the boy and shook her head. "I like you very much too, and I'm not mad at you. Now," she pulled away, hand still on Zurab's head, "let's get you back to your Dieda, hmm?"

"Yippie! Zurab gets to see Dieda, zura!" the child cheered, his mood lightening once again. Hopping off the stool, he began tapping a bright, upbeat tune on his little toy drum as Duck and Lillie closed up the shop.

Once the girls had fitted the padlock on the shop door, Lillie—visibly itching to go—paused long enough to wave Duck and Zurab goodbye before turning around and heading off to enjoy her freedom for the hour. With Lillie gone, Duck walked Zurab the short distance to the Stein Jewelry Shop. As they approached, the door opened as Edel stood waiting for them.

"Dieda!" Zurab let go of Duck's hand and rushed over to Edel, who bent down and gave her young relative a warm hug.

"How are you, little one?" Picking up the child in her arms, Edel looked to Duck and said, "Hello, and thank you again, Duck, for taking care of Zurab in my stead these past two weeks."

"It was my pleasure," Duck answered honestly. "Zurab has been a life-saver, actually…" she began, but bit her lips before she said any more.

The statement drew an inquisitive look from Edel, but when she looked at Zurab, the little boy offered her no answers as he too clammed up, chewing on his lower lip.

"Um," Duck stammered, trying to redirect the conversation away from herself, "how was your trip, Miss Edel? I hope the train ride wasn't too long?"

"The train ride was a bit tiring, but was otherwise uneventful," Edel answered. Setting Zurab back down, the enigmatic shop keeper gestured to the interior of her shop. "There is however, something that I would like to talk to you about. Would you care to join me for some tea, Duck?"

A/N

*Delia Croquer is based on the character Crocodelia from the Princess Tutu anime. "Delia" is from Crocodelia, while the last name "Croquer" is the French word for "crunch", and is also associated with a popular sandwich, the Croque Monsieur. Crocodelia is most well known in the anime for smelling Duck after she's transformed back to her bird form, and crocodiles are generally shown as ravenous eating machines, so a last name that not only rhymes with crocodile but is also related to food seemed appropriate.

*The OCs Worm Tongue, Rina Rogowski, and Alessandro "Sandy" Tempesta are all characters derived from the canon Princess Tutu character, Anteaterina. As stated in a previous chapter, "Worm Tongue" is derived from the suborder that anteaters belong to: Vermilingua, which means "worm tongue" in Latin. Rina is of course from the "rina" in "Anteaterina", while the name "Sandy Tempesta" is based on Anteaterina's ability in the anime to conjure up a sand storm, as "tempesta" is Italian for "storm".

*"Yuri" in Japanese can mean "Lily", and the word also happens to be the given name of Lillie's Japanese voice actress, Yuri Shiatori. Lillie's last name of "Molière" is taken from the stage name of 17th century French playwright, Jean-Baptiste Poquelin, who was one of the founders of French ballet in the court of King Louis XIV. Molière created the genre of comédie-ballet, a type of spoken play with music and dancing, which is said to be the basis of today's musical theater. And despite a preference for writing tragedies early in his career, he wrote many comedies, farces, and tragicomedies for the stage at the height of his popularity in the French royal court. Based on his contributions to ballet and the nature of his works, I felt his name would be a great fit for Lillie, whom I envision is French-American in this universe.

Thanks for Tomoyo Ichijouji for proof reading!