Geralt pressed a handful of coins into the phone's elaborate faceplate and grabbed absentmindedly for the receiver with a gloved hand. "Gah! Futz!" Predictably, it was the least comfortable object he ever had the displeasure of holding. Because it was also shaped like a scolipede. He heaved a cavernous sigh and began to dial.<br/><br/>"Hello sir or madam!", sounded an artificially cheerful voice from the brazen insect's abdomen. "You've reached Helios Photography."<br/><br/>"Yeah. It's Geralt," he responded curtly. "I need a favour from you."<br/><br/>"Geralt? May I ask which?"<br/><br/>"<span style="font-style: italic">The boss</span>, ya goddamn stooge."<br/><br/>There was a brief delay before the man on the other side replied, punctuated by the sound of rustling papers and a door closing. When he returned, a subtle portion of the businessman's facade was no longer in evidence. "Good evening then,<span style="font-style: italic">boss</span>", the voice echoed pointedly. It was no mystery that Vincent Meretti only pledged fealty to the highest bidder, and even then only a request at a time. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"<br/><br/>"A bad bit've business. Weiss's gone quiet on me, and he ain't the first. Mills, Van Dekk, Big Tim, Deveau. I'm down a ward boss and three big fish, plus another two fellas who won't give the time o' night but to tell me there ain't nothing happening and not to bother lookin' in. About the only straight man I got is that kid Vince Morris, an' he says the same, jus' with better excuses. Nuts to that. Something stinks and I mean to find out what."<br/><br/>"Cities' hearts tend to house rotten things. You might try Denmark," Meretti sounded back sardonically.<br/><br/>Bernardi gripped the elaborate earpiece tight with irritation, then immediately regretted it as a metal foreleg stabbed into his palm. Damned Weiss and his twice-damned scolipedes. "I'm laughing. Now cut the poetry and talk sense. This thing'll solve itself a hell of a lot faster with an... outside influence t'look in on the situation. I'll make sure you get compensated; more if it pans out. Besides, how'd you plan on doing business in downtown Black without my say to keep the hucksters from rufflin' yer feathers up and down the boardwalk for old times' sake?"<br/><br/>"You sent a fair few of those rufflers yourself, Mr Bernardi. I distinctly remember the holes they left in my front counter, and the pricey steel plate I fitted over them." He sighed wistfully. "And I'd have their faces too, if not for a shattered flash bulb..."<br/><br/>The mob boss subconsciously batted away the accusation with a cursory gesture. "Eh, water under the bridge. We was just gettin' to know one another. You can't expect to bring in the dough in this town without breaking a few-"<br/><br/>"Craniums? With industrial logging equipment?", interjected the young information broker. "I was<span style="font-style: italic">there</span>as well, if you'll recall."<br/><br/>"Now how in the goddamn-?" Geralt expectorated back, stopping himself before the conversation went somewhere that put Meretti on even more favourable ground. If knowledge was power, he reigned over his own miniature empire. "Ya know what, forget it. Just keep me on the up and up and you'll get your cabbage. Anything for me now you've got your pound've flesh?" he hesitated a moment. "...shit, now you've got me talkin' like that."<br/><br/>Meretti continued in good grace; the impeccable conversationalist where his money was involved. "It might be untoward of me to say, but if nobody seems to be talking and Vince is the only one taking calls to tell you nothing worth hearing, maybe it's Vince who has something to say."<br/><br/>"Meaning what? Have<span style="font-style: italic">you</span>got somethin' to say, Meretti?"<br/><br/>"I might, but that would go for extra", the innocuous voice deliberated. "I'm not partial to hedging my bets so deeply."<br/><br/>Bernardi frowned. Meretti was notorious for his self-professed 'associative neutrality'; a byword for greed which in practice allowed him to sell to - and manipulate - both sides of any conflict big enough to hide. He supposedly sold only the truth, but which truths? When? At what price? It went unsaid that he always knew more than he sold, and sold only when it was in his interests.<br/><br/>"What's the world comin' to when a guy can't figure out which way the wind is blowin' from a street-eared spook like you?" he argued, flexing his gloved fingers to stave off the cold. "We done good business, you an' me. You owe me a hint, V."<br/><br/>There was another pause; for just a moment Meretti seemed consumed by doubt. "I think I just gave one," he admitted at length.<br/><br/>This did not sit well at all.<br/><br/>"Put the squeeze on Vince - my own triggerman - to find out why Weiss's tuned me out," Geralt snapped, the threadbare tatters of his patience wearing thinner, "is that what you're saying?"<br/><br/>"I'm saying nothing, least of all for free. I'm only speculating on the hypotheticals."<br/><br/>Geralt threw his hands up into the air, grunting involuntarily as the over-elaborate phone box cuffed his elbow and a pair of gilded mandibles jabbed awkwardly into his cheek. He and Weiss were going to<span style="font-style: italic">have words</span>. "Fine. You win. I'll have one've the boys look into it, jus' sos you don't come back at me with any queer-put I-told-you-so's."<br/><br/>"Are you certain you should be telling me that?" inquired the voice, seeming somehow more genuine than before. He could all but see the rueful half-smile on the strange young informant's face.<br/><br/>"You? Chisel me?" The crime boss laughed. "We both know how that'd end. You're too smart for that - you and yer thrice-damned hypotheticals."<br/><br/>"As you say," admitted Meretti in a passably convincing tone, "but considering... never mind. It's been a pleasure doing business with you."<br/><br/>"Pfft. Like a lame scoli and a loaded iron. D'you have to lie like that every time someone rings you up?"<br/><br/>"Not particularly, but I find it helps square the inconvenient truths. Balancing act and all that ritzery. You understand."<br/><br/>Bernardi stared at the phone in bewilderment for a few seconds, then tossed it back onto the hook with a noncomittal grunt when he realized it was staring back. A faint 'Pleasure d- hrm...' hissed from the set part-way along its trajectory.<br/><br/>"Can't say I do, y'screwball."<br/><br/>He replaced his hat and exited the booth, immediately beset upon by the winter cold through his overcoat. Valman's bronze effigy motioned hopelessly onward at his back, urging him further into the dead metropolis of marble and brass, swaying curtains and darkened spotlights, reaching towers and cavernous halls; triumphs he alone had made possible. Geralt never turned to see.<br/><br/>On cue, Anthony materialized from the gloom with one arm folded neatly behind his back, as rigid and austere as if he were hewn from ice. "Shall I make ready the vehicle, sir?"<br/><br/>"Bring it around and drop me off at Molly's," Geralt sighed, feeling marginally less anxious about the situation, "then go scare up Bookman and y'can call it a night. Tell him I need Vincent Morris by the ward office tomorrow, receptive t'some questions, but he should keep the kid in one piece in the off chance he's not sellin' me this particluar wooden nickle. That limey hood can do his worst, but I don't want no suit-wearin' stiffs at the bottom of the lake 'till I say my piece. Could be Meretti's playing me more'n usual and I'd rather not lose the kid over this. Breathin' until proven guilty, get me?"<br/><br/>"Very good, sir. I'll see to it immediately." Nodding curtly in assent, Anthony tipped his silver-lined cap, brandished the tire iron with a hint of repressed glee, and stalked off on long legs.