NOTES: Thank you to everyone who has read, left reviews, and/or favorites on my previous stories.
This story takes place between Common Ground and McKay and Mrs Miller and was a request from my husband. He wanted a story with Sheppard's team in a noir-esque universe.
On a personal note, I realised recently that I published Seeking and Finding, the story that kicked off all of these extra adventures, in April of 2018 (2018!) Wow. Thank you for all of your support over the past seven years.
Thanks as always to Lyn for the beta read!
A siren wailed in the distance. The shrill, keening whine grew louder, reached a crescendo, and faded only to build again a few seconds later.
The sound woke Rodney, who groaned as the sing-song wail sliced through his skull, ratcheting up his headache from throbbing to pounding. A few seconds later, a car horn blared, making him wince, followed by a second. Voices shouted from somewhere nearby, and Rodney tried to cover his ears.
"Watch where you goin'!"
"Hey! I was walkin' here!" a second voice retorted, followed by the dull thud of a fist hitting metal.
"You ain't gonna be walkin' anywhere you step in front of me again," the first voice replied.
"Ooo, big words."
"Just get out of the road," the first voice ordered.
Was it too much to ask for people to let him die in peace? Rodney grumbled to himself. Why did the scientists insist on arguing in the hallways? They had perfectly good labs or conference rooms they could use, but no. They always ended up shouting in the hallways, usually right outside his door.
Another horn blared, followed by the screech of tires and more shouting.
Tires? Car horns? Rodney wondered. That didn't make any sense. There was no such thing as a traffic jam in Atlantis or the entire Pegasus galaxy, for that matter.
He reached up to rub his temples and realised he was sitting hunched over his work table with his head resting on his arms. Must have fallen asleep in the lab again, Rodney thought. No surprise, given all of the extra work he'd had to take on in the last month.
Artefacts needed cataloguing. The daily updates from Zelenka and the team investigating the Asurian tower they'd discovered on P4J-631 needed reviewing, and suggestions sent back on what the teams needed to focus on next. Then there was the day-to-day running of the science labs and all of the currently active projects, which, since Radek was having all of the fun in the tower, he was left to manage alone. Not to mention his personal dual projects of the 'gate bridge and his trans-universe idea of collecting zero-point energy to recharge ZedPMs to power the city long-term.
No wonder he had fallen asleep, Rodney thought with a tired sigh.
He slowly sat up, rested his elbows on the work table, and held his head in his hands as the shouting and car horns faded.
"Finally," he grumbled and opened his eyes.
A small wooden desk with a typewriter, a telephone, and a tray of neatly stacked file folders stood against the wall opposite him. Behind the desk sat a dented filing cabinet.
What the hell? he wondered as he stared around the room. Where were his computers? The racks of components and Ancient artefacts? He sat straight and realised the sound he heard was traffic noise, not the soft background hum he associated with Atlantis.
"No, no, no. This is not happening!" Rodney stumbled to his feet and turned in a slow circle, staring at the dingy walls and the water-stained ceiling tiles.
"Hello?" he called. "Sheppard?"
There was no reply.
Rodney grasped the back of one of the two chairs fronting a second battered wooden desk. Unlike the smaller desk, folders and papers were strewn across the wooden surface. A hooded desk lamp took up one corner. A glass with a finger of brown liquid sat next to an unlabeled, half-full bottle of the same liquid.
Rodney picked up the glass and sniffed the contents. "Wow," he muttered, his eyes widening at the strong alcohol smell. "Must be one hundred proof, at least."
He set the glass back on the desk and surveyed the rest of the dingy room.
To his left, he saw a ratty brown sofa with a neatly folded blanket draped over one arm pushed against the wall near a small window. A cold gust of wind blew through the half-open window, bringing with it the scent of wet pavement and car exhaust. The breeze ruffled the edges of the papers on the desk.
He turned to his right and saw a wooden coat rack with a light grey trench coat and a darker grey fedora hanging from two of the four hooks standing near a frosted-glass door with the words "PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR" etched into the glass in reverse.
Private investigator? he wondered. Why was he …
He looked down and groaned when he saw he wasn't dressed in his usual uniform but a pair of black trousers and a faded long-sleeved blue button-down shirt. A dark blue tie hung loosely around his neck, and he spotted a black suit coat thrown over the back of the high-backed leather desk chair.
Think, Rodney ordered himself. There had to be a logical explanation. He wasn't in the city. That much was clear. Had he been kidnapped on a mission? He shook his head. No, he'd been in his lab. He was sure of that.
Rodney turned in a circle. "Someone want to tell me what's going on?" he demanded. "Where the hell am I?"
There was still no reply.
Rodney glowered at the ceiling. "In that case, I'm leaving."
He stepped toward the door but stopped when he heard the rapid click of footsteps in the hall. The footsteps stopped, and Rodney saw a shadow against the glass as the knob started to turn.
Good guys or bad guys? he wondered, and scrambled around the desk with the vague idea of searching the drawers for a weapon to defend himself from whatever was about to enter.
He had his hand on the top drawer, ready to open it, when the door opened, and Rodney stared in shock as Teyla entered the room.
"Morning, Boss," she said as she closed the frosted door.
Teyla wore a black cloth overcoat and carried a leather purse under one arm. She crossed to the smaller desk, set down the purse, untied the light blue scarf covering her hair and took off the coat, hanging both on one of the spare coat rack hooks.
Instead of her usual uniform trousers and sleeveless top, Teyla wore a dark blue dress, the style his mother had called a shirtwaist. Large combs held her hair in place, leaving a series of soft curls framing her face.
Teyla seemed oblivious to Rodney's startled reaction to her appearance. She turned to Rodney and shook her head. "You didn't sleep in the office again, did you, Boss?"
Boss? Rodney thought, still trying to understand what he was seeing. Why would Teyla call him 'boss'? And since when did she use contractions when she spoke?
"What happened to you?" Rodney whispered.
Teyla looked down at the knee-length skirt and matching low-heeled pumps and frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Rodney waved his hand toward her. "You. You look … different."
Teyla rolled her eyes. "That's what a girl wants to hear." She approached his desk, picked up the bottle, and turned to Rodney. "You've been drinking that rock-gut Doctor Z sells again, haven't you? You know he's not a real doctor, don't you?"
Doctor Z? Rodney wondered. He sank into the leather chair behind the desk and held his aching head in his hands.
"What? Teyla, what's going on? Where are we?"
Teyla set the bottle on the desk and rested her hands on her hips. "Teyla? Who's Teyla?"
Rodney dropped his hands and stared up at Teyla. "Umm, you? That's your name." Please tell me that's your name, Rodney silently pleaded. He needed something in this world to make sense.
Teyla shook her head and pointed at the bottle. "I've warned you before that stuff would rot your brain." She turned back th her desk. "Teyla is close, but it's pronounced Talia. You know? Just like it has been for the past three years we've worked together."
Rodney didn't bother to hide his shocked expression as he stared at Teyla.
No, no, no, no, no, he mentally screamed. Three years? That didn't make sense. He was a scientist. Doctor Rodney McKay. He was the head of the science division in Atlantis, not some two-bit private eye. What the hell was going on?
Teyla/Talia glanced over her shoulder, then walked back to his desk, sat on the corner nearest Rodney's chair, and rested her hand on Rodney's forehead. "Boss, you're starting to scare me. What's wrong with you?"
Rodney moved his head away from her hand. "I have a pounding headache, and I'm really not in the mood for a prank. Did Sheppard put you guys up to this?"
Teyla leaned forward, and Rodney was suddenly uncomfortable with how she studied him. "Sheppard? Who's Sheppard?" She took Rodney's chin and turned his head one way and then the other. "Did Johnny P find you last night? Is that it? He found you and had that thug of his pound on you? I told you he was looking for you and that you needed to be careful."
"What?" Rodney asked, now thoroughly confused. "Who is Johnny P?"
Teyla let go of Rodney's chin and stood. "If you aren't hung over and Johnny P didn't take his pound of flesh, what happened to you last night?"
Rodney leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and rubbed his head. "That's what I'd like to know."
Teyla shook her head and turned toward the door. "I'll find you some aspirin and water."
"Oh, umm, thanks." He paused. "Talia."
Talia smiled, picked up a jug from the file cabinet, and left the office.
Rodney watched her leave, then closed his eyes and held his head in his hands.
What the hell was going on? Teyla wasn't Teyla but someone named Talia, who looked like a forties pin-up girl and called him 'Boss'?
The headache flared, and Rodney winced. And why did he have the mother of all headaches?
He rested his arms on the desk and his head on his arms. It had to be some sort of elaborate prank, he decided. Sheppard must have thought it would be great fun to make me think I'm some sort of hard-boiled detective, Rodney grumbled to himself. Just because I said Phillip Marlowe was a better detective than Sam Spade.
A corner of his mind told him that the idea this was all John's doing wasn't possible, but at the moment, he didn't care. Blaming Sheppard was easier than accepting that he was in real trouble.
Rodney heard the door open and sat up as Talia entered carrying the jug. She opened a drawer of her desk, pulled out a pill bottle, and crossed to Rodney's side of the room.
"Here," she said, setting the jug and pills on the desk.
"Thanks," Rodney said.
He picked up the glass with the brown liquid and looked around for a place to empty it. Before he could move, Talia reached across the desk, plucked the glass from his hand, and downed the liquid in a single gulp.
"Doctor Z's hooch is getting better," she said with a tight smile. She filled the now-empty glass with water and handed it to him.
"Umm," Rodney said, staring at the glass.
"Take your pills, drink the water, and try to clean yourself up a little. We have a client arriving in a few minutes."
Rodney shook out three pills and downed them with some of the water before Talia's last statement registered. "Client?"
Talia sighed. "Yes, Boss. A client. Hopefully, one who will pay us. The rent is due in a few days, and, like I said, Johnny P is looking for his money, too."
She picked up the liquor bottle, made sure the cap was tight, dropped it into the bottom drawer of Rodney's desk, and shuffled the mess of papers and folders into a pile.
"That looks a little better," Talia muttered, crossing to her desk.
She grabbed a stack of stamped envelopes in her tray and shook her head. "I thought you were going to mail these?" she said to Rodney.
"Oh, umm -" Rodney replied.
"Never mind. I'll drop them in the box at the corner, then meet the client and bring her up."
"Her?" Rodney asked.
"Yes," Talia replied. She pointed at Rodney with a mock frown and added, "Don't get any ideas." She left, closing the frosted glass door behind her.
"All right, what the hell is going on?" Rodney said to the room. He stood and walked over to the half-open window "Sheppard? The joke is over. You and Ronon can come out …"
Rodney looked out the window, a window that a corner of his mind reminded him shouldn't be there and felt panic rising in his chest. "… now."
The window looked out on a cityscape, but it wasn't Atlantis. Instead of the wide expanse of ocean and the elegant metal and glass buildings he was used to, Rodney saw blocks of cheap, soot-encrusted brick buildings ranging from eight to ten stories high. A cluster of metal and glass skyscrapers stood in the near distance, but Rodney didn't recognise the skyline. Cars lined the street, all with high hoods, rounded corners, flared wheel arches, and thick chrome bumpers. Rodney recognised a few of them from the noir movies the team had been watching recently but couldn't name any of them.
People bustled up and down the pavement. Three women carrying large shopping bags strolled down the street window shopping. Most of the others were a mix of men and women hurrying in one direction or the other, ignoring the people around them.
As Rodney stared out the window, a man wearing a black overcoat and hat ran into the intersection, trying to cross the street just as the traffic signal changed.
An old-fashioned taxicab screeched to a halt, and the driver leaned out the window. "Hey, watch it!" the cabbie yelled, shaking a fist at the pedestrian.
The pedestrian waved back, ignoring the words, as he scurried across the street.
A horn sounded behind the cab.
"Ahh, hold your horses," the cabbie shouted at the car behind him.
He slid back inside his cab, and the cab shot into the intersection as the signal changed again.
Other than the yellow cab and the occasional splash of color from a scarf or coat, Rodney's impression of the cityscape was grey. Grey buildings. Grey cars. The wet pavement and streets were either a dull grey or shiny black. The crowd of men and women all wore dark or drab-colored coats. Even the sky was an unremarkable grey, thanks to the low-hanging cloud which blocked most of the sunlight.
This was not Atlantis, Rodney realised. As much as he wanted to fool himself, this wasn't a silly prank. Where the hell was he?
"There is a growing body of evidence showing that the concept of a multiverse isn't so far-fetched as once thought."
Was that it? he wondered. Zelenka's crazy idea about multiple universes was right? But how did he get here?
"More to the point, how am I supposed to get home?" he muttered.
The door opened behind him, and Rodney turned, expecting to see Talia.
"How did we get here?" he asked but stopped when he saw who stood in the doorway.
It wasn't Talia returning with a mystery client, but Sheppard, with Ronon looming behind him.
Like Teyla, John looked like himself and yet not. His hair had been slicked down and parted at the side. His black uniform had been replaced with an open black peacoat over a cable-knit, cream-colored sweater, and Rodney saw the collar of a t-shirt under the sweater. He also wore dark denim trousers and heavy work boots.
Ronon was dressed much like Sheppard, sans the peacoat, and his hair tied back from his face with a thick cloth band.
"Did Johnny P find you last night? Is that it? He found you and had that thug of his pound you?"
If Teyla was now Talia, Rodney thought as Sheppard and Ronon entered the office, did that make Sheppard this Johnny P person? John's middle name was Patrick, Rodney reminded himself. The pieces fell into place, and Rodney didn't like the picture as he stared at Sheppard.
"How did we get here?" Sheppard rolled his shoulders as he stepped farther into the office and motioned Ronon to follow. "Well, I think it started with the fact that you are two months behind on your payment plan."
"Payment plan?" Rodney scowled. "Is this some sort of joke?"
"He thinks this is a joke," Sheppard said to Ronon with a tight smile. "Roland, why don't you explain to our friend here that we're not laughing."
Roland? Rodney thought, glancing at Ronon.
"It'll be my pleasure," Ronon/Roland replied, cracking his knuckles.
Rodney took a hurried step back as Ronon/Roland crossed the room, flexing his hands.
"Now, hold on a minute," Rodney exclaimed. He raised his arms in front of him and desperately tried to remember Teyla's defence lessons. "You wouldn't really -"
The rest of what he wanted to say was lost when Roland grasped Rodney by the front of his shirt, twisted his hands in the material, and picked Rodney up so his feet dangled several centimeters from the floor.
"How bloody do you want him, Johnny?" Roland asked, pushing Rodney against the nearby wall.
That answers that question, Rodney thought as Roland tightened his hold.
Rodney suddenly remembered Ronon slamming him into a wall of windows soon after they met, swallowed, and tried to pry Roland's hands off his shirt. "Let's not be too hasty here," he wheezed. I'll, I'll get you the money."
He stopped pulling on Roland's hands and glanced at Sheppard. No, not Sheppard, he reminded himself. This was not his John Sheppard. This was Johnny P, someone who didn't know him and had no issue hurting him.
Johnny P crossed the room and stopped beside Roland. He stared at Rodney, and Rodney tried to look sincere.
Johnny thumped Roland's arm. "Put him down," he ordered.
Roland let go, and Rodney winced as his jarring landing sent waves of pain through his head. He coughed as he inched away from Roland and Johnny P and braced his hand on the cluttered desk. He caught sight of Roland's hands and stared at the burn scar across the back of his right hand that disappeared under the sweater cuff.
What happened? he wondered, glancing up at Roland.
"I want my money by the end of the week," Johnny P growled and poked Rodney in the chest. "Maybe see if your buddy Kosta will float you a loan."
"Who?" Rodney started to ask, then waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever."
"End of the week," Johnny P said, poking Rodney again. "Or next time, I'll let Roland have his fun."
Rodney swallowed and nodded.
"Let's go," Johnny P said to Roland.
Roland took a step toward Rodney, flexing his hands.
"Roland!" Johnny P ordered. "I said, let's go."
Roland growled low in his throat but followed as Johnny P left the office.
Rodney waited until he was sure they were gone, then bent forward with his elbows braced on his knees.
"Great," he muttered. "So whatever is going on around here, Sheppard and Ronon won't be any help."
He coughed and slowly straightened. At least Teyla seemed to be on his side, he thought. Now all he needed to do was figure out how they had all ended up in this alternate reality and why he was the only one who remembered who they really were.
Rodney straightened his shirt and tie and sat with his head resting on the back of the desk chair with his eyes closed.
The aspirin had done nothing to help with his headache, but he tried to think around the pain.
If he was in some sort of alternate reality, how did he get here? Wherever 'here' was? He had no memory of leaving his lab, much less Atlantis. Had the entire city been transported somehow? he wondered. That would explain why he had no memory of how he ended up playing the main character in something out of The Maltese Falcon.
That still left the question of how. Most of the scientists were with Zelenka on P4J-631. All of his work on the trans-universe idea for harvesting zero-point energy was still at the theoretical stage. While he had a few ideas on the type of device needed to make his idea work, nothing had been built yet.
A quick tap on the door shook Rodney out of his musings. He opened his eyes and sat forward in the chair as the door opened.
Now what? he wondered as Teyla … no, Talia, he reminded himself, entered, followed by another woman wearing a floor-length fur coat.
It took Rodney's beleaguered brain a moment to realise who stood in front of him.
"Doctor Weir?" Rodney whispered, jumping to his feet.
The woman narrowed her eyes. "I have no idea who this Doctor Weir would be," she replied with a stiff expression. "I had my man call your office yesterday evening." She looked around the room and sniffed. "Since your girl was waiting for me downstairs, I assumed I was expected."
Rodney tried not to choke on the 'your girl' comment. "Oh, right, yes, of course," he said. "Umm, sorry."
Talia rolled her eyes. "This is Elspeth Blake," she said. "She needs you to find her brother. Remember?" she hissed.
Elspeth eyed Rodney for a moment. "Perhaps this was a mistake."
"No, no," Talia replied and helped Elspeth remove her coat. She laid the coat across her desk and smiled. "We'd like to help."
Unlike Talia's simple shirtwaist dress, Elspeth wore a knee-length tailored tweed skirt and matching jacket. The top of a pale yellow blouse peeked above the jacket and matched the yellow ribbon of the hat perched on her head. Even to Rodney's untrained eye, the ensemble and fur coat screamed wealth.
Rodney stared at Elspeth, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do next.
Talia crossed to Rodney's side, straightened his tie, and whispered. "You're embarrassing yourself. Sit down and act like you know what you're doing. We need this case."
Rodney swallowed and nodded. "Why don't you, umm," he said to Elspeth and gestured to one of the chairs in front of the desk, "and tell me -"
"Tell us," Talia corrected.
"Right. Umm, tell us what's happened."
Elspeth looked Rodney up and down with an expression of distaste before she perched on the edge of the nearest chair. She slowly removed a pair of thin leather gloves and placed them over the small purse on her lap.
Rodney sat behind the desk, tried not to wince as the chair springs squealed, and rested his hands on the desk.
Talia opened a drawer, took out a pad and a pencil, and stood behind and to Rodney's right.
Rodney glanced at her with a puzzled frown, then focused on Weir/Elspeth. "So. Your brother is missing?"
Elspeth nodded. She moved the gloves to the corner of Rodney's desk, opened the purse, and pulled out a small square of paper. "This is Carlton," she said, passing the paper across the desk to Rodney.
Rodney took the paper and did a double-take when he saw an image of Carson standing stiffly before the camera wearing an old-fashioned double-breasted suit.
This just keeps getting better and better, Rodney grumbled to himself as he passed the black and white photo to Talia.
Talia glanced at the photo, then at Elspeth. "What happened to him?" she asked.
Elspeth sighed and pulled a lace handkerchief out of her purse. "He's missing," she said, dabbing her eyes with the handkerchief.
"So you said," Rodney replied shortly.
Talia slapped his arm. "When was the last time you heard from him?" she asked, setting the photo on the desk.
"A week ago. After …" Elspeth sniffed and wiped her eyes. She took a deep breath and sat straight in the chair. "He saw something." She glanced from Rodney to Talia and hesitated. "Maybe this was a mistake," she muttered and stood.
Talia shook her head and stepped around the desk. Rodney noted that she conveniently blocked Elspeth's route to the door.
"Just tell us what happened," Talia said. "Boss is the best. Trust me. He can find your brother."
Elspeth gave her a watery smile, nodded, and sat in the chair.
"Carlton is a good man. He's a doctor," Elspeth said with a wistful smile. "He could have worked in one of the big hospitals but chose to open a clinic not far from here." She waved a vague hand toward the window. "He said he wanted to be able to help the people who needed him the most."
At least Carson still sounds like Carson, Rodney thought.
"A week ago, he called me. Said he had witnessed a …" Elspeth stopped.
"Witnessed what?" Rodney prompted.
Elspeth took a deep breath. "He told me he saw Ladis Reznik kill a man."
Rodney glanced from Elspeth to Talia. "Ladis Reznik?" he murmured.
Talia smiled at Elspeth, then bent toward Rodney. "Kosta's right-hand man," she whispered in Rodney's ear. "What's the matter with you today?"
Rodney waved off the question. "Oh, that Reznik," he said to Elspeth. "So your brother witnessed a murder and then vanished." He raised his eyebrows. "Sounds pretty cut and dried."
"I know what you're thinking," Elspeth said. "Carlton isn't dead."
Rodney snorted.
"He's not!" Elspeth exclaimed. She turned to Talia with a pleading expression. "He told me he'd managed to get away and was hiding. He wanted me to contact the state police and arrange for them to meet him. He wants to testify. He wants to do the right thing."
"State police? Why not the city?" Rodney asked.
Elspeth stared at Rodney and shook her head. "You know as well as I do the city police are in Anton Kosta's pocket. Carlton would have been dead before the ink was dry on the report." She turned to Talia and added, "Are you sure he can help me?"
"Trust me," Talia replied. "Boss gets results."
When I know what's going on, sure, Rodney mentally grumbled. He was a scientist, not a private investigator. He still didn't know how he had ended up here, nor why everyone was someone he knew but, at the same time, wasn't. How was he supposed to find someone when he didn't even know where he was?
Elspeth glanced at Rodney and then Talia with a tiny, knowing smile. "Oh, I see. Are you two -"
"No!" Rodney and Talia exclaimed at the same time.
Elspeth's eyes widened, and Rodney wasn't sure she believed them. The feeling was confirmed when he saw her try to hide another smile behind the handkerchief.
Rodney held up a hand before either of the women could say anything else. "If you know your brother is in hiding and why, what do you need us for?"
Elspeth clutched the handkerchief as tears leaked from her eyes. "He gave me a phone number and told me to call it as soon as I had made arrangements for the meeting." She dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief. "It took some time, but I finally got someone at the state police to listen. He agreed to meet with Carlton and help." Elspeth stopped and took a deep breath. "I called the number last night to let him know everything was set and …"
Her face screwed up, and Rodney realised she was about to start crying in earnest.
Talia dropped the pad and pencil on the desk, walked around to Elspeth, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It will be all right. You'll see," she said. "We'll find him."
Elspeth took several breaths, dabbed her eyes again, and nodded to Talia.
Talia smiled, patted Elspeth's hand, and sat on the corner of the desk. She picked up the pad and pencil and said, "Did you speak to anyone at the number your brother gave you?"
Elspeth nodded. "The person I spoke to said Carlton had left. Someone had been hurt, umm, hit by a car, I think he said and needed a doctor. Carlton never returned."
Rodney stared at her, then pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe this wasn't Weir, after all, he thought. His Elizabeth was smart enough to spot a set-up when she heard it.
"You do realise that was likely just a ploy to get him out in the open," Rodney bluntly told her.
Elspeth squared her shoulders and sat straight in the chair. "Carlton is smart," she replied. "Even if it was a trick, he would have found a way to escape."
Rodney sighed. "What do you want me," he glanced at Talia, "us, to do?"
"I want you to find him. Find him and get him to Lieutenant Thompkins with the state police." Elspeth pulled a scrap of paper from her purse. "This is his phone number."
Rodney took the paper and glanced at the number. "Why didn't you take all of this to him?"
Elspeth sighed. "He said he was willing to talk to my brother, but I'm not sure he really believed me when I told him about what Carlton saw."
I wonder why, Rodney thought.
"Our rates are twenty-five dollars a day plus expenses," Talia said.
Elspeth nodded. "Certainly. Whatever it takes to find my brother." She opened the purse and handed Talia a fistful of bills. "Here's two hundred dollars." She snapped the purse closed. "Our parents are gone. My brother means everything to me. Please find him. When you do, there will be a five hundred dollar bonus."
She reached for the photo, but Talia stopped her. "We're going to need that," she said, passing the photo to Rodney. "And that phone number your brother gave you for where he was staying."
"Oh, yes, of course," Elspeth replied.
Talia handed her the pad and pencil.
Elspeth scribbled on the pad, handed both to Talia and stood. "Thank you."
Rodney grunted.
Elspeth glanced from Rodney to Talia, and Talia took her by the arm and eased her toward the door.
"We'll return the photo when we find your brother," Talia assured her as she helped Elspeth with the fur coat. "I'll see her out, Boss," Talia added as she escorted Elspeth out of the office.
Rodney nodded and picked up the picture of Carson. He waited until he was sure they were gone, then dropped the picture on the desk, stood, and paced from the desk to the window.
He glanced down at the street below and watched as Elspeth exited the building. She looked up and down the street, crossed at the intersection, and stepped into a big black car waiting across the road.
The car cut into traffic a moment later to the blaring of more horns, and Rodney winced.
"It would be really nice if someone explained what the hell was going on!" he shouted to the ceiling.
"Boss?" Talia said, entering the office. "You keep yelling at the walls, and people will think you're crazy."
Rodney walked over to his desk, slumped into the chair, and rubbed his head. "Maybe I am," he muttered under his breath.
"Boss?"
Rodney waved his hand. "Never mind."
Talia studied him for a moment, then picked up the scrap of paper with the scrawled phone number for Carlton's safe house. "I'll go talk to Katie on the switchboard downstairs. Maybe she can find out who this number belongs to. Once we have an address, we can talk to the people there and find out what they know about the night Carlton disappeared."
Who cares about a missing person? Rodney mentally screamed. He had more important things to worry about, like getting everyone back to their reality. While he might enjoy watching a noir movie with John, he wasn't interested in solving missing persons cases and murders for the rest of his life.
Speaking of Sheppard, he thought.
He looked up and saw Talia was almost out the door. "Talia! Wait."
Talia stopped and glanced at Rodney. "Boss?"
"Umm, close the door," Rodney said. "I need to talk to you for a minute."
Talia closed the door and sat in the chair Elspeth had recently vacated. "If you're looking for my take on Elspeth Blake -"
"It's not that," Rodney said. He scrubbed a hand over his chin and stared at the desk.
Talia scooted to the edge of the chair and rested her crossed arms on the desk. "Are you sure you're all right? You've been acting jumpy all morning."
Rodney snorted. "You have no idea," he muttered under his breath. He paused and glanced around the office. "You said we've worked together for the past three years?"
"Yes," Talia drawled. "Boss, did you hit your head or something?"
Rodney ignored the question. "When did this Johnny P person show up?"
Talia narrowed her eyes but sat back in her chair. "About six months ago. Rumor has it, he used to be a cop."
Rodney felt a tiny smile quirk his lips. Of course, John would be part of the police force, he thought. Then, the rest of what Talia said sank in. "Used to be?"
Talia nodded. "Seems he was tossed for bein' crooked."
Rodney gaped. John? A dirty cop? Not something he would have ever considered possible.
"I know what you're thinking," Talia said. "That every cop seems to be in Kosta's pocket these days. Maybe that was Johnny's problem. He was in deep to someone else."
"Kosta?" Rodney blurted before he remembered he was supposed to know the name.
"Big-time player," Talia replied. "He runs The Pegasus Club." She jerked her head toward the window.
Rodney stood, walked over to the window, and stared at the city.
Talia stood next to him and pointed toward a building in the distance. "There. That's The Pegasus Club."
Rodney followed Talia's finger and saw a large building with a canopy and a lit marquee over the door.
"It looks like a legit nightclub," she continued, "but it's really a front for Kosta's real business."
"Which is?" Rodney asked.
"You name it. Gambling. Prostitution. Protection rackets." Talia glanced at Rodney and added, "Murder."
"You're kidding?" Rodney exclaimed.
Talia pursed her lips into a thin line and shook her head. "Everyone knows he's ordered at least a dozen hits, but Kosta has bought all the right people in all the right places. No one can touch him."
Oh, this just keeps getting better and better, Rodney thought. He wasn't just looking for some missing witness. He was looking for a witness who could potentially bring down the biggest mobster in the city. All for the princely sum of twenty-five dollars a day.
"And this Ladis Reznik is his man," Rodney said, turning away from the window. "Which means we're about to kick over the biggest hornet's nest in town."
"That about sums things up," Talia agreed.
"And you're okay with this? Doesn't sound like the best way to live a long life."
Talia shrugged. "Someone has to do it. Finding Carlton could be the first step in cleaning up this city. Make it a place decent people want to live again."
"Yeah, maybe."
Talia smiled and walked over to the door. "I'll be right back. Hopefully, Katie will have the information we need."
Rodney nodded, and Talia left.
Once she was gone, Rodney took a deep breath and walked over to the desk. Taking on a mob boss? By yourself? Are you insane? he berated himself as he sat behind the desk. No, not entirely alone, he reminded himself. Talia seemed game to help.
You solve mysteries all the time, he thought, staring at the clutter of papers Talia had stacked on the corner of the desk. Granted, they were usually more intangible, mysteries-of-the-universe kind of things, but how hard could it be to find one man?
Rodney rubbed his aching head. You are the smartest man in two galaxies, he reminded himself. You can do this. He blew out a breath and looked around the room. Carlton wasn't the only one missing, he reminded himself. Was someone back in his reality looking for him? he wondered. Of course, even if John was looking for him, the multiverse was infinite. What chance did Sheppard have that he would stumble on the right one?