Time: 9:30 PM. SEPTEMBER 7TH 20XX
LOCATION: Cat's Cradle
TARGET CONFIRMED
Static echoed throughout the cop car as the two detectives finished updating home base, it was going to be a long and hellish night as Detective Simms glared outside as a torrent of rain had decided to greet the two law enforcers as their distinct police car sat on the opposite side of the street in front of what was once a condemned building. Five months and plenty of funds -illegal, suspect- had went into it. The building had been a sad two story sight in an old part of the City as it's doors and windows had been smashed by vagrants time and time again. Only now as literal fresh coat of paint had been slapped on it in rich red color and bullet-proof glass windows. The bullet-proofing could have been called excessive to the outsider, but Simms and Rold knew better. Grunting to his partner, Simms flicked up the collar of his trench-coat as the duo made their way to the busy entrance. It was bustling as it wasn't everyday a venue like this opened up..much of it had to do with proprietor's reputation..another reason the police had been staking out on the place.
A series of sounds escaped discontented guests as the cops stood directly in front of the hired muscle guarding the doorway, like good dogs the men merely grunted and nodded the men in as badges were shown. Rold grumbled something about gaudiness as the bright neon sign welcomed them in. In almost blinding pink fluorescence, flowing script stated 'Cat's Cradle' as a ball of string fell from the E to be batted at by the design of cat. The dimmed lighting was much more welcome as the two men entered the 'lobby' of the business as a thin and snobbish-looking man looked up from a book arching a perfect brow in question. His attire consisted of a fitted suit that didn't seem to match his attitude as a sigh escaped him at the thought of dealing with guests..who weren't continuing into the main area for some reason. "Can..I assist you gentlemen with something...-". His voice was reedy and pitched as the arrogance faded from it, once those damn golden badges were shown, the little color draining from his face. Rold's gruff voice answered "Yes, your boss. Where is she.". The host's answer was halted as Simms glared as the skittish man led the duo into the building. The interior was a subtle mixture of entertainment and something else..forbidden, all legal obviously. The appearance of the two detective didn't stop the staff from glancing at them as pointed looks started silent conversations.
Various uniforms skirted about the place as the bartenders clad in vests and pants halted their shop talk to suddenly become busy. The floor staff of men and women had some lee-way with their uniform as long as one single bell was featured. From the women, low-cut blouses and shorter skirts teasingly showing a flash of garter accessorized by the twinkle of a bell. The men in tight vests alone and slacks as various segments of their ears were pierced with a bell. Shoe-wear varied from topple-worthy heels to comfortable boots. While the performers on stage were by far the most eye-catching as patrons cheered on performances, ~A burlesque club or a whore house would be a better question~ Simms thought as a woman clad in fishnets held up by a garterbelt and a almost translucent corset danced a passionate tango with her male partner. A live band played a sensual and slow beat as the boom of a drum crawled over pips of the violin and flute. Appreciative cheers came from patrons enjoying their drinks and entertainment as the song finished. Ascending to the upper level by way of an iron-wrought spiral staircase as the sounds below became muted as another set of thugs halted the trio's destination beyond a set of black oak double doors. The host stuttered out something, too soft for the detectives to hear as one thug gave a cruel smile before opening the door.
Their escort's complexion turned from sheet white to tinted green as a noticeable sweat beaded his head with each shaking step. Another door awaited them as a snapped "What" came from beyond the final door before the thin man had time to knock. Saving their host the trouble as Simms barked back "The Police. Just hear to ask you a few questions, Miss Liam". A cross between a swear and hiss was their answer as the men entered, the detectives leading the charge and their ill-looking host trailing behind. A pointed glare from the woman behind the desk was all the host needed to hastily shut the office door, before shrinking away into the farthest corner of the office pointedly trying to look anywhere but his employer. The cops took their seats in plush leather seats in front of the desk, not backing down by the pure icy expression directed at them. The office itself was as lavish-looking as the rest of the decor, creeping vines dangled from pots around curtains at the window, the fabric open to allow the evening light and soft patter of rain hitting the glass. Landscape painting dotted the walls as curled script claimed them as originals. A feeling of disgust curled in Simms gut as he knew, hell almost all the general public knew..or at least thought at least once all of this had been obtained using dirty money. Lord, knew how many sets of DNA could have been found on a single bill. His grip on his chair tightened as reality set in..if they had any proof that the blonde bitch before them could be tied to any of it.
There she sat behind a majestically carved mahogany desk with that infuriating smile on her face; daring him to lose his temper. Crimson lined lips pursed as the criminal asked with false sweetness "Well, what can I do for the two finest officers of the law...". Her expression was calm and collected aside from the twitch in her lips as she noted the clear loathing in Simm's eyes, cocking her head to the side in a questioning manner "Is my attire..troubling you, Detective Simms..?". It wouldn't be hard to mistake her as a member of the floor staff in her current attire, as it was meant to disarm and entice. Standing from her high back desk chair as the blonde strolled around the desk before sitting on the surface of her desk, crossing her legs. Knee high leather boots shined from their last oiling clinging to her legs as fish-net stockings teased pale flesh underneath, disappearing into a somewhat modest skirt as a veil of fabric brushed against the top of the boot. At least that's what it was supposed to do, but as her legs crossed said veil only as guide to the frilled black garter holding up the stockings. Not that her upper half was much better as men's styled shirt in pristine white, tucked in but the excess fabric bunching around her chest area. A tight black vest cupped her figure as the strings behind it held up the garment, making it seem more provocative than it was. A cascade of blonde brushed down to her shoulders in a straight fashion framing her throat as a little bronze bell jingled from the band around her throat. Icy blue eyes behind black framed glasses met brown ones as Irene sighed "Obviously you aren't here to critique my wardrobe..Don't tell me I am suspect..in another one of your little witch hunts..".
Rold snorted "No. Not this time. At least..for now..No. It's about a 'former' associate of yours, went by the name of Pelo..gone missing. Know anything about it..". Irene responded without missing a beat "No. Why would I know anything..as an innocent citizen..just trying to make her way in the City..how could I know anything about a notorious gang member..". A Lie, as Irene simpered on, it was one of the worst kept public secrets that Irene Liam AKA Salem had blood on her hands and connections to the underworld factions of the City. The problem being the police had never managed to charge her with anything..as evidence would always end up missing..somehow. Word on the street was that now Salem was aiming to go on the straight and narrow, already a betting pool had formed on how long it would last..Simms had less than two months on her. It had already been a month since the burlesque club opened..with not a crime in sight. It was almost maddening for the two detectives as forced apologies for wasting the business owner's time were made before walking out of the office, speaking softly to one another.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the office as only the host and herself remained. The man looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him as he took a step towards the door. "Now, Rodrick. Where is you were going.." ..."Back to my..station..Miss..Ah-." A small sound of protest escaped him as a drink tumbler hurtled at the wall narrowly missing him "Stay." Rodrick, forced into the situation nodded before opening and closing his mouth, finally figuring it would be best to keep his mouth shut. Manicured nails drummed against the wood surface of the desk as Irene's eyes flickered about the room eyeing various..throwable objects "Now, I will like to be updated in the future as soon as those damn dogs coming sniffing around again..Are we clear..". Rodrick hastily nodded, about to apologize as his boss weighed another glass in her hand daring him to speak out again. Practically bowing himself out of the room as Irene's focus turned to the shattered remains of the whiskey tumbler. That was her sole purpose of buying the glasses themselves as whiskey wasn't a friend to her in the slightest. The rain continued pouring on outside as the metamorphosing woman struggled with her current dilemma, that murder of Pelo could be destructive in the future for her goals. As that was the single idiotic drug dealer who knew better than to sell to her staff..the others would come sniffing around sooner than later. A hiss of frustration escaped her as another glass fragmented against the wall..Damn it all.
LOCATION: Cat's Cradle
TARGET CONFIRMED
Static echoed throughout the cop car as the two detectives finished updating home base, it was going to be a long and hellish night as Detective Simms glared outside as a torrent of rain had decided to greet the two law enforcers as their distinct police car sat on the opposite side of the street in front of what was once a condemned building. Five months and plenty of funds -illegal, suspect- had went into it. The building had been a sad two story sight in an old part of the City as it's doors and windows had been smashed by vagrants time and time again. Only now as literal fresh coat of paint had been slapped on it in rich red color and bullet-proof glass windows. The bullet-proofing could have been called excessive to the outsider, but Simms and Rold knew better. Grunting to his partner, Simms flicked up the collar of his trench-coat as the duo made their way to the busy entrance. It was bustling as it wasn't everyday a venue like this opened up..much of it had to do with proprietor's reputation..another reason the police had been staking out on the place.
A series of sounds escaped discontented guests as the cops stood directly in front of the hired muscle guarding the doorway, like good dogs the men merely grunted and nodded the men in as badges were shown. Rold grumbled something about gaudiness as the bright neon sign welcomed them in. In almost blinding pink fluorescence, flowing script stated 'Cat's Cradle' as a ball of string fell from the E to be batted at by the design of cat. The dimmed lighting was much more welcome as the two men entered the 'lobby' of the business as a thin and snobbish-looking man looked up from a book arching a perfect brow in question. His attire consisted of a fitted suit that didn't seem to match his attitude as a sigh escaped him at the thought of dealing with guests..who weren't continuing into the main area for some reason. "Can..I assist you gentlemen with something...-". His voice was reedy and pitched as the arrogance faded from it, once those damn golden badges were shown, the little color draining from his face. Rold's gruff voice answered "Yes, your boss. Where is she.". The host's answer was halted as Simms glared as the skittish man led the duo into the building. The interior was a subtle mixture of entertainment and something else..forbidden, all legal obviously. The appearance of the two detective didn't stop the staff from glancing at them as pointed looks started silent conversations.
Various uniforms skirted about the place as the bartenders clad in vests and pants halted their shop talk to suddenly become busy. The floor staff of men and women had some lee-way with their uniform as long as one single bell was featured. From the women, low-cut blouses and shorter skirts teasingly showing a flash of garter accessorized by the twinkle of a bell. The men in tight vests alone and slacks as various segments of their ears were pierced with a bell. Shoe-wear varied from topple-worthy heels to comfortable boots. While the performers on stage were by far the most eye-catching as patrons cheered on performances, ~A burlesque club or a whore house would be a better question~ Simms thought as a woman clad in fishnets held up by a garterbelt and a almost translucent corset danced a passionate tango with her male partner. A live band played a sensual and slow beat as the boom of a drum crawled over pips of the violin and flute. Appreciative cheers came from patrons enjoying their drinks and entertainment as the song finished. Ascending to the upper level by way of an iron-wrought spiral staircase as the sounds below became muted as another set of thugs halted the trio's destination beyond a set of black oak double doors. The host stuttered out something, too soft for the detectives to hear as one thug gave a cruel smile before opening the door.
Their escort's complexion turned from sheet white to tinted green as a noticeable sweat beaded his head with each shaking step. Another door awaited them as a snapped "What" came from beyond the final door before the thin man had time to knock. Saving their host the trouble as Simms barked back "The Police. Just hear to ask you a few questions, Miss Liam". A cross between a swear and hiss was their answer as the men entered, the detectives leading the charge and their ill-looking host trailing behind. A pointed glare from the woman behind the desk was all the host needed to hastily shut the office door, before shrinking away into the farthest corner of the office pointedly trying to look anywhere but his employer. The cops took their seats in plush leather seats in front of the desk, not backing down by the pure icy expression directed at them. The office itself was as lavish-looking as the rest of the decor, creeping vines dangled from pots around curtains at the window, the fabric open to allow the evening light and soft patter of rain hitting the glass. Landscape painting dotted the walls as curled script claimed them as originals. A feeling of disgust curled in Simms gut as he knew, hell almost all the general public knew..or at least thought at least once all of this had been obtained using dirty money. Lord, knew how many sets of DNA could have been found on a single bill. His grip on his chair tightened as reality set in..if they had any proof that the blonde bitch before them could be tied to any of it.
There she sat behind a majestically carved mahogany desk with that infuriating smile on her face; daring him to lose his temper. Crimson lined lips pursed as the criminal asked with false sweetness "Well, what can I do for the two finest officers of the law...". Her expression was calm and collected aside from the twitch in her lips as she noted the clear loathing in Simm's eyes, cocking her head to the side in a questioning manner "Is my attire..troubling you, Detective Simms..?". It wouldn't be hard to mistake her as a member of the floor staff in her current attire, as it was meant to disarm and entice. Standing from her high back desk chair as the blonde strolled around the desk before sitting on the surface of her desk, crossing her legs. Knee high leather boots shined from their last oiling clinging to her legs as fish-net stockings teased pale flesh underneath, disappearing into a somewhat modest skirt as a veil of fabric brushed against the top of the boot. At least that's what it was supposed to do, but as her legs crossed said veil only as guide to the frilled black garter holding up the stockings. Not that her upper half was much better as men's styled shirt in pristine white, tucked in but the excess fabric bunching around her chest area. A tight black vest cupped her figure as the strings behind it held up the garment, making it seem more provocative than it was. A cascade of blonde brushed down to her shoulders in a straight fashion framing her throat as a little bronze bell jingled from the band around her throat. Icy blue eyes behind black framed glasses met brown ones as Irene sighed "Obviously you aren't here to critique my wardrobe..Don't tell me I am suspect..in another one of your little witch hunts..".
Rold snorted "No. Not this time. At least..for now..No. It's about a 'former' associate of yours, went by the name of Pelo..gone missing. Know anything about it..". Irene responded without missing a beat "No. Why would I know anything..as an innocent citizen..just trying to make her way in the City..how could I know anything about a notorious gang member..". A Lie, as Irene simpered on, it was one of the worst kept public secrets that Irene Liam AKA Salem had blood on her hands and connections to the underworld factions of the City. The problem being the police had never managed to charge her with anything..as evidence would always end up missing..somehow. Word on the street was that now Salem was aiming to go on the straight and narrow, already a betting pool had formed on how long it would last..Simms had less than two months on her. It had already been a month since the burlesque club opened..with not a crime in sight. It was almost maddening for the two detectives as forced apologies for wasting the business owner's time were made before walking out of the office, speaking softly to one another.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the office as only the host and herself remained. The man looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him as he took a step towards the door. "Now, Rodrick. Where is you were going.." ..."Back to my..station..Miss..Ah-." A small sound of protest escaped him as a drink tumbler hurtled at the wall narrowly missing him "Stay." Rodrick, forced into the situation nodded before opening and closing his mouth, finally figuring it would be best to keep his mouth shut. Manicured nails drummed against the wood surface of the desk as Irene's eyes flickered about the room eyeing various..throwable objects "Now, I will like to be updated in the future as soon as those damn dogs coming sniffing around again..Are we clear..". Rodrick hastily nodded, about to apologize as his boss weighed another glass in her hand daring him to speak out again. Practically bowing himself out of the room as Irene's focus turned to the shattered remains of the whiskey tumbler. That was her sole purpose of buying the glasses themselves as whiskey wasn't a friend to her in the slightest. The rain continued pouring on outside as the metamorphosing woman struggled with her current dilemma, that murder of Pelo could be destructive in the future for her goals. As that was the single idiotic drug dealer who knew better than to sell to her staff..the others would come sniffing around sooner than later. A hiss of frustration escaped her as another glass fragmented against the wall..Damn it all.
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