<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://gunsofold.com/marshal_badge_silver_balltip.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Date:</strong>January 9th, 1874<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Evening<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Back Room<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Sloane<br/><hr/><div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/d1/Mrlee.png)</div><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/0b/Msgreene.png)</div>Mr. Lee’s lips quirked lightly at the mention of his whores, though it wasn’t a pleasant smile; it was an abiding one.  His eyes narrowed imperceptibly at the mention of John Jacob Astor, and he gave a small, dry chuckle, politely feigned mirth.<br/><br/>“Ah, well – I hope his tastes are all you share.  Things could grow unpleasant here in Gomorrah if you also shared his business interests.  He was fully aware of the dislike in the room held for him; those who were familiar with the Den seemed to suspect its owner was some kind of horrific sociopath, and many in the town had difficulty reconciling the soft-spoken, bespectacled man and the rather vicious form of prostitution practiced within.<br/><br/>He fell silent, though, at the arrival of the Whiskey Nick and a new bottle for Sloane.  He kept his inscrutable smile in place as Sloane refreshed his ‘tea,’ and sipped at his own, thick with the smell of Chinese herbs.<br/><br/>Greene pursed her lips.  “He’s going to have a monopoly on the selling of ghost rock either way – he managed to negotiate that with the Rockies.  The way I understand it, the only bulk ghostrock sales coming out of Gomorrah will be going through Sweetrock, so even the independent miners will eventually be selling him their fundament.  But he’s trying to control the entire line – from production to distribution, and likely every place miners might care to cool their heels or wet their… whistles.”<br/><br/>She gave a tiny smile at the last.  “Something which affects us all.  Going toe to toe with Sweetrock will likely end up with the three of us finding out if we can fly.”<br/><br/>She leaned forward slightly.  “Believe it or not, Black Jack and his brigands – they’re the best thing that’s happened to this town.  With Sweetrock losing shipments of ghostrock, they have to buy the independent miner’s stock.  And with the Raider’s keeping Findley on his toes, he doesn’t have a lot of spare bodies to go shaking down miners for their claims.  He needs them on protection rackets.  All I’m proposing for now is that we keep the heat on.  Make sure coin, food, supplies,<em>information</em>– keeps ending up in the Raider’s hands.  Without it, me might blink and become a company town, and that’s bad for everyone’s bottom line.”<br/><br/>She smiled, a certain wicked humor in her eyes.  "That's my proposal.  I can get the information.  I just need some help making certain it gets to them."  Her gaze flicked to Mr. Lee.  "And that it gets through the Maze without trouble."<br/><br/>Lee raised an eyebrow.  "You are a... dangerously well informed woman, Miss Greene."<br/><br/>Greene's smile was light.  "I find it infinitely preferable to the alternative."