Chapter Nine: M. M. Krass

Sapphire sat on her bed staring at the cracks in her wall. She wondered how long they had been there, when they had started, what caused them to grow. The cracks had probably been smaller when the last person lived here. They had left, the cracks remained. She had moved in, the cracks had grown. They'd be here long after she was gone, just getting bigger and bigger. Things will fall apart, she thought.

Looking down at the papers strewn across her bed, Sapphire let out an exhausted sigh. For the third night in a row, she found herself going over the evidence Drex had given her. Sapphire wasn't trying to convince herself; she was already convinced.

Sapphire was more than convinced; she was obsessed.

She read and reread each document, over and over, staring at the photographs for minutes on end, trying to deconstruct and tease out every piece of information she could. After hours, days, hours spent every day, Sapphire was about to give up. With a large glass of wine in her hand, she flicked through the company bank statements one last time.

Two to three days before each of the suspected assassinations, Hank withdrew a large sum of money, always the same amount. But this wasn't enough to prove anything. Nothing else in the statements was suspicious. Just row after row of client money coming in and expenses going out. In and out. In and out. Hank withdraws a massive sum. Back to in and out. Month after month after… Sapphire saw something that wrinkled her face. She had been staring at the chaos for so long, and now, out of nowhere, a pattern emerged.

She was sure she was going mad.

Three months before Hank's first large withdrawal, a new client appeared on the statements. M. M. Krass. Not only was it a strange name, unusual that a personal name was being used at all, but the more she thought about it the more she was convinced she'd never heard that name before. Sapphire didn't know every single client the company dealt with, but she knew most. Still, none of this was what caught her eye, what caught her eye was the amounts. Her eyes had done some math without her intention, and what they found was incredibly suspicious.

She double and triple checked her work. She was right. If you added all the amounts paid in by M. M/ Krass from their first appearance up to Hanks first large withdrawal… the amounts were the same.

Sapphire followed the statements further.

It kept happening.

This couldn't be a coincidence.

The amounts paid in by M. M. Krass always equalled the amount taken out by Hank just before the murders. Rinse and repeat every three months for… for more than two years,

The Bank the payments came from was listed: West Portside Savings and Loan. It was a human bank. Sapphire knew certain Pokemon used human banks to try and disguise their darker dealings. It wasn't the only human bank referred to in the statements, but it was the smallest. Searching for it on her phone, to try and gather more information, she found it didn't even have a digital banking service. Whoever was making these payments would have had to request them in person.

Still, the payments didn't have a regular schedule; they were scattered - which was probably why she had taken so long to notice them. And why Drex hadn't noticed them at all. Yet, the times were nearly all the same: between eight and nine PM. Human services had to be open late, as most humans didn't finish work until such times, and a lot didn't get weekends off.

Sapphire wouldn't risk trying to contact Drex without first finding if her theory actually led anywhere. So she knew what she had to do. If the pattern of Hank's withdrawals held true… there was a space of about three weeks before the next one would come in. She needed to lie. She needed an excuse to leave work early every day for three weeks. She needed her mother to be dying.

When Sapphire explained the situation to Hank, he did not interrupt her. He listened patiently, puffed his cigar, sipped his scotch, and stared. After she had finished he continued to stare, he let the silence hang in the air, growing heavy and thick, filled to the brim with expectation and judgement, as if the silence was his agent, his interrogatory specialist. But the huge beast had said it himself; his girl didn't flinch.

Pulling back in his chair, Hank sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, almost convincingly. "That's awful."

"Thank you."

Hank's expression twisted with consideration. "You'll still be here every day you need to be here?"

"Yes."

"And the doctor said… about a month?"

"Yes."

"You'll never have to leave earlier than six?"

"No."

"And you're sure it'll only be about a month."

Sapphire scoffed. "Fuck Hank, if it''s more than six weeks I'll put the pillow over her face myself."

Hank chuckled. "I'll have to fire you if you don't, Saph." He put out his cigar, watching it extinguish in the glass ashtray, and holding his breath. She'd never seen him think this hard for this long. Everything was always a violent knee-jerk with Hank 'The Tank' Harrison; his pensiveness made her uneasy. "Look… go have some extra time with your ma. But remember Saph, you're lucky to have this job; things can get real desperate for your kind in this city. Real desperate. I'm sure your ma would rather die alone, knowing you were gonna be taken care of… than looking into your eyes, scared for what's gonna happen to you." He sighed again, but this time with an honesty Sapphire had never seen; that sigh… it was a confession. "Sometimes we've gotta be ruthless even with the ones we love… so we can stay safe."

Sapphire cracked a broken smile. "There's a lotta dangerous folk out there," she said.

Hank reflected her smile. "Yeah. Stay one."

So every day, she stopped working at six, and headed down to the Port - to West Port Savings and Loan. She didn't know exactly what she was looking for; so, she tried to take a brief description of everyone who entered the bank. There was always a chance M. M. Krass was a human, though she highly doubted it. Still, they could have sent a human courrier. Though to trust a human with that amount of money, and to leave more loose ends… Sapphire had a feeling it would be a Pokemon, and that they'd come themselves.

A couple Pokemon used the bank over the first week and a half. A heavily scarred Raticate holding a greasy brown bag, which she assumed was full of cash, came by. A Tentacool, operating robotic legs, crawled right out of the ocean, carrying a briefcase; she finally had proof for what she'd heard about The Sea Marquis, at least. And a Mr Mime, what looked like the one she had seen last time, swaggered in with a wad of notes.

She doubted any of these were M. M. Krass.

Sapphire had started to doubt her plan, when near the end of the second week, just after sunset, they came.

She noticed people shifting along the boardwalk; ahead to her right, someone was coming, and people were making way. Squinting from her bench, it looked like a Pikachu. If there was a Pikachu in the West Port area making this much commotion, she could probably get information about them quite easily. People would talk.

When it got closer, she realised people would not talk. She realised this was definitely M. M. Krass. She realised it was not a Pikachu.

No, the shape it cut was formed by an old cloth draped over its body. From fraying tears, shadowy vapours leaked out, mingling with the early night air; each electric light it passed flickered as it got too close. Its disguise, in truth, was not convincing; it was childish and disconcerting; covered in scribbles and stains, it had no arms, no legs, and no eyes, other than two poorly cut holes that lead only to darkness.

Sapphire knew what it was. She knew largely by luck. Growing up, her village was visited once a month by such a creature. It wandered around, let itself freely into people's homes, and never spoke. Watching, investigating, and reminding all that the government still existed. There wasn't much of a police presence in Johto, there wasn't much need. But every town had a Ghost.

Sapphire watched it approach the bank, wondering what was hiding under that sheet. It shifted through the doors without opening them, and the entire building went dark.

If The Ghosts were funding Hank… and Hank was hiring The Ghosts… then what was really going on?

In that moment, Sapphire made a dangerous but necessary decision: she would follow the Mimikyu.

Her heart beating so loud she feared The Ghost would hear it, she pursued. It left the bank and made its way down the boardwalk. Turning into the residential part of West Side, it continued for about one hundred yards before stopping at a dilapidated tenement and entering.

Sapphire had assumed, if it had lived within the Port area at all, it would have lived further from the bank. She assumed it would have taken a less direct route home. And she assumed it would have looked over its shoulder at least once. None of these were true… and that fact only disturbed her more.

On the way home, she passed by the diner Drex had taken her the night they killed the Ditto. She handed the waitress a small note with the number of a burner phone she'd purchased. "Give this to Drex, next time you see him." The waitress nodded, and she bought some pie to go.

To Sapphire's surprise, as she sat in bed unable to sleep, comforting herself with pie and wine, Drex called. It was two in the morning.

"I didn't think you'd get the message so soon," she said.

"And a good morning to you too, Miss Sapphire."

To her even greater surprise, she found his voice comforting; knowing he was still out there… it gave her some hope. Or rather, it allowed her to give herself some hope.

Drex continued. "V is one of the few people in this city I trust. And I trusted you to realise if you absolutely had to reach out first… she would be the way to do it."

"Which means you must trust me," she teased.

"I'm beginning to, Miss Sapphire. But let's not waste time."

"I've found a lead."

Drex paused before responding, perhaps weighing this trust he was only beginning to feel. "What did you find?"

"In the bank statements, before each of Hank's withdrawals, the ones he's using to fund the killings, there's a client - one I couldn't find a record of."

Drex interrupted. "I'm sure your company has plenty of clients whose records are locked away."

"It's not that," she pushed. "The amounts the client pays in, if you add them up between each of Hank's withdrawals-"

"It equals the same amount," interrupted Drex again, this time excitedly.

"Yes, but will you let me finish?"

"Sure, sorry. It's just… I can't believe I didn't see that."

"Well the bank the client is using, West Port Savings and Loan, is a human bank; it's small, and shitty, it doesn't even have a digital service. Meaning…" She waited for him this time.

Drex hesitated in way of apology "...meaning they'd have to pay in, and request transfers in person." He paused again. Sapphire swallowed a large gulp wine. The world loomed. "They don't want there to be a digital trail. There aint' much, if any, surveillance West Port Side, digital or otherwise… though plenty of snitches, crooked types… suggesting whoever this is, is more afraid of the government then they are of a criminal element… further suggesting that they're with the government."

Sapphire gave a short, proud chuckle. "Don't hurt yourself, I have more."

"More? Did you-"

"I did. I staked out the bank. I know who- I know what it is."

"How?"

"Can you tell me any other reason why a Mimikyu would be using a human bank? Right around the time of day that all the other transfers have been made? And living… less than two hundred yards away?"

Drex paused a third time, but now Sapphire could hear his breathing; it did not comfort her.

He laid it out. "The Ghosts… are paying Hank… to pay The Ghosts… to kill people."

"That's what it looks like," she replied.

"And you followed this bastard to where they're staying?"

"It's like fifteen minutes round the corner."

"Sloppy…" began Drex, puzzling it out once more. "Too sloppy to be personal. Whoever this Ghost is, they've been given orders they don't like, think are beneath them. Someone higher up has assigned them to live near The Port, and make sure Hank gets his money." The Farfetch'd sighed, trying to release the disquiet that had built up inside him. "This isn't just some rich asshole paying for people's deaths. This is something much bigger than that."

Sapphire tried her best to not let Drex's tone dissuade her. She finished her wine and steeled herself, asking the only question left. "What do we do next?"

Drex gave a small grunt of affirmation. "I have to speak to this Mimikyu."

"They won't tell you anything."

"They will… I'll threaten to inform MOSO. If this is a government conspiracy, which I'm now almost certain it is, there's no way they're working together. MOSO and Spec Ops hate each other. You can't really have two intelligence agencies, both authorised to enact violent covert intervention, both hungry for unlimited resources and a hand on the wheel of power… and not expect them to be at each other's throats."

Sapphire swallowed before she scoffed. "That's all very astute and eloquent, but Drex… if you threaten to expose a Ghost, it will kill you."

"I've leant to do some dark things in my time, Miss Sapphire; I can handle myself."

"And what stops it just going back to their superior's?"

Drex laughed. "It would have to admit it's been caught. What's the use of a Ghost who can be caught? You think these things have any loyalty to each other? The only currency they know is fear."

Sapphire sighed. She knew there was no way to change his mind. Drex didn't care about his life; all he cared about was the truth.

"I'm going with you," she said.

"Miss Sapphire, that is a terrible idea."

"Drex Finnius Dreagle, this entire plan is a terrible idea. Not to mention, you don't know where this bastard lives. I called you, remember? This is my lead. So either we go together, or this thing between us, whatever it is, is over."

Sapphire wasn't sure where that had come from, but it seemed once again, for all his evil, Hank was right - his girl doesn't flinch. For a moment she wondered if she was doing the right thing. If she shouldn't just hang up the phone, burn the evidence, and go back to work. Then again, if her mother wasn't dead in two weeks, and Hank ever called her… Then again-again, Hank would never call her.

"Fine. We'll go together. But first you have to come to mine."

Sapphire smirked, "You're inviting me into your home?"

"I can't let you go in there unarmed."

"I still have your gun, Drex."

"You're going to need more than a gun, Miss Sapphire."