The Dame in Black (DudeMeister and Malicious Lullaby)

She thought about it for a moment and pressed her hip against the bar, drying down a high ball glass with a towel. “What’s in it for me?” She asked. “You don’t look like the type who has money and I won’t charge an alcoholic. Although I should.” She said simply. “So…what will you give me for the information? It’s valuable and it’s also dangerous telling you. If you tell anyone, he’ll find me and finish what he started.”

Roy leaned in within whispering distance of the bartender. This time, the snark was turned down, his words deliberate and sincere.

"If you tell me all you can, I'll make sure he won't do that to anyone again" he whispered, referencing the scars that marked her face. From what he could tell, she came to this job under unfortunate circumstances. She was probably principled and hated the idea of being forced to work in a bar ran by criminals who ruled through violence and fear. Roy would use her spite as the angle. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned after all.

"Think about all the people you could help save from being murdered or roped into this existence? Don't you want to sleep at night without the fear of being killed at a moment's notice? If you help me, I can put a stop to all of this. If this place get's raided, I will bail you out and watch your back"

She watched as he leaned forward and she met him half way, lending him her ear so she could properly hear him through the wild hobble chatter of the joint. Her eyes widened at what he was offering to promise. She drew back and her eyes were wide. “You can do that?” She asked, almost incredulously because she honestly didn’t think that a drunk like him could do anything. “You’ve been drinking and you’re promising an out if I tell you all about Roland Elbert?” She wanted to snort but something about the sincerity in his voice made her think it would be okay to trust him, that she could trust him and he was being serious.

She let out a small resigned sigh and then nodded her head. “Okay.” She looked around slightly, just to make sure there were no prying eyes or wandering eyes, keeping tabs on them. Putting the glass and towel down, she rested her arms on the bar counter and leaned forward. “It’s a ruse.” She began.

“Roland Elbert is always the name used in a devious plan by Luiz. He used to exist. A lot time ago. He was a silent partner to Luiz way before he actually went corrupt. His mentor.” She explained. “Luiz became greedy, power hungry. He started doing deals and gambles that could make him rich. As he became rich, those who were rich that he stole from went down. One by one, those who used to run the city became indebted to him. He’s a very…persuasive man. Roland Elbert was the one he could never persuade to keep supporting him because Roland taught Luiz everything. He knew what the price was.”

She let out a small sigh and then looked around again, just to make sure no one was watching them in particular. It wasn’t odd for the bartender to talk to clients and just to make it a little more intimate, she leaned a little closer which allowed view to her cleavage. The only reason she did that was so anyone who did see them specifically would simply think she was putting on the charm for yet another drunk alcoholic who may or may not be looking for some warm female companionship to complete their haze.

“He did what any mobster would do; he tied him down, put his feet in cement blocks and then disposed of his body. To this day, no one knows where his body is and no one would care to. To this day, no one recalls a Robert Elbert. He doesn’t exist. It was like he never existed.” She bit down on her lower lip and then leaned in closer. “I know where Luiz disposed his body.”

“Now you will answer me a question; who told you his name and why?”

Roy weighed her words carefully, noticing her surveying the room for possible eavesdroppers. It would seem that he hit upon some sensitive information, and that this woman really felt that her life was in danger for what she was telling him. He played his part as best he could. Roy closed in as she spoke to him, and even took a quick gander at her cleavage. It was rather well shaped.

"So Luiz learned the ropes, and than sent Roland to a watery grave. He's all heart ain't he?" he commented rather sarcastically. Her story did make sense, logically of course. If it was true, that would make Camilla one of Luis' subordinates. They were playing him for a sap. But than again he couldn't just accept her story as legitimate until he got the facts. It was just as likely that this sultry barmaid was telling him tall tales.

"I'll look into it. As to who dropped the name, I can't tell you that. Client confidentiality. Thanks for the drinks though" he said, placing the money on the table and getting up from the stool.

She reached out and grabbed his wrist none too gently before loosening her grip slightly so not to seem so aggressive. “Whoever it is, be careful.” Deciding on those words and thinking it best to keep it cryptically simple, she dropped his wrist and picked up the money he left, rolling it up and pushing it into her cleavage, out of eye’s notice.

With that, she turned back to her work, in her own way, effectively dismissing him.

--

Camilla woke up and she rubbed her eyes. She stretched her body and slowly sat up. She had several kinks in her body that were not there before and she blamed the couch. Goodness, the guy really lived in a dump, she wondered what the point of trying to rope him in for his own demise was. It’s not like he had anything of face value. Still, she didn’t ask questions.

She was an actress. She did what she have to so she could make her money and then move on to a new gig. As far as she was concerned, this was just a job. Nothing more and she posed no interest or care to what happened to the ‘job.’

As he was about to leave, Roy felt her fingers around his wrist like an iron vice. She was deceptively strong, and he had to admit that he was grateful when she loosened her grip.

'Whoever it is, be careful'.

The words rang in his ears rather ominously, an effective portent for possible dangers to come. As the bartender let him go, he nodded at her dismissal before leaving. Deciding that it was safer to leave via another route, he passed the bandstand and left through a backstage door leading to an alley. He pulled up the collar of his overcoat as an extra barrier to the cold...for all the good it did. He reached into his pocket for his packet of cigarettes and a lighter and attempted to light it. After he struck the wheel for the third or fourth time, he shook it the lighter around in an effort to utilize any lighter fluid he could...before something impacted at the back of his head. It seemed that the bottle shattered only as the grimy cement rose up rapidly to collide against his cheek.

"Poking your nose around a bit too much, eh Roy?" came the familiar mocking voice. O'Hara...it had to be. The corrupt pig in question stood over him after shooting a kick into Roy's ribs.

"Still fighting like a coward O'Hara?" Roy asked defiantly as he slowly struggled to stand. O'Hara's lackey drew his fist back to punch, but not before Roy delivered the right cross from hell. O'Hara reached into his jacket for his gun, but not before Roy bull rushed him against the alley wall, letting him have it with both fists. They taught you how to fight like an animal in the army...Roy was a drunk, but he wasn't rusty.

"That's one hell of a way to quit smoking...been trying to kick the habit for a while." Roy quipped as his opponent fell to the ground. He reached in for O'Hara's gun and took it, searching his partner for any weapons before rushing in for the bartender.

"It's not safe for either of us here. Come with me if you want to see tomorrow" he said

-------

Roy heard the weight shift on his couch as Camilla stretched awake. After rushing his informant to safety, he managed to pull himself back to the apartment without being tailed. Roy dried his damp hair with a towel, having donned his pants after stepping out of the shower. His face was slightly cut from the glass shards, his right cheek bruised black from hitting the pavement.

"Slept well dear?" he asked, taking a seat across from her at the coffee table.

“My name is Illiana by the way,” The bartender with intricate scar on her face said by of a belated introduction, just before he left. She was astonished he even took the time to get her to safety but she was thankful for it. It had been risky giving him the information about ‘Roland Elbert’ but she took the risk anyhow and it seemed to have worked out in her favor. Now, hopefully, she wouldn’t be in any danger and she just might get out of this unscathed—well without any new scars to live to tell the tale with.

---

It took a moment for Camilla to get her bearings straight. It didn’t occur to her that he had come back home yet since she didn’t hear anything. Cracking her neck, she rolled it once more and her hand moved to the rub the back of it. Hearing his voice all of a sudden, she gasped and sat up quickly. Her eyes were wide with alarm, but she hoped it came off as fear and her scalp prickled, as did the hairs on her neck stand up as she looked him over.

He looked like he had just taken a shower. She wondered how amazing a shower would feel. She rid herself of the thoughts and her gaze stayed on him, taking in his appearance. He looked good for a drunk, even with his shirt off. She noticed he had some scraps on his face and a bruise that wasn’t there before. Standing, she moved to him and touched his cheek lightly. She was shorter than him and didn’t seem very tall even standing before him, between his legs slightly. “You’re hurt.”

Picking a few stray pieces of broken glass out of his scalp, Roy's first order of business was finding a safe place for Illiana to stay. His office came to mind, but his address was known. It would certainly be a detriment to his career if a dame wound up dead in his own office. His apartment was out of the question as well. Until he got his facts straight, one side of the story sounded just as good as the other. Camilla theoretically could be playing him for a sap, but he wasn't sure about Illiana either, no matter how easy she was on the eyes.

Realizing that one of his clients was behind on her payment for services he had rendered months ago, the solution arose. Having tracked the illicit affair of Rose Turner's husband, she was happy to keep Roy's informer safe in exchange for considering the debt paid.

---

He eyed Camilla's form as it roused from slumber, drying his damp hair with a towel as she got up and approached him. She was a petite woman, his own tall frame dwarfing her own as she came up to him to observe the scrapes and bruises from last night.

"Occupational hazards, nothing more. Do you want some coffee?" he asked her, pulling a shirt from a rack and buttoning it as he walked into the kitchen. There were still a few more questions he could ask her while he waited on Hector for the police records.

She actually frowned a little bit. Before he left, he was his usual handsome drunkness. Now he was back and he was still usual handsome drunkness but he had bruises and booboos that weren’t there before. It concerned her a little bit. Camilla was simply an actress who didn’t make it in Hollywood and wasn’t entirely up to knowledge of the exact details of the actual assignment. All that she was to basically be bait for this man. Even she was human. She wasn’t a bad person. She didn’t like seeing people hurt. She wondered if she had a hand in this…if this was what she was being paid to do.

“I’d love some coffee.” She followed him to the kitchen and pursed her lips. “Um…if it isn’t an inconvenience, is it okay if I use your shower?” She asked softly. “I’d like to not feel so…” She gulped. “Dirty.”

Roy reached up to a cupboard and procured a kettle before opening up a tin of coffee. One thing that occurred to him as he was scooping up the coffee grounds was how and when to contact Hector. After last night's debacle, he had barely enough time to rush in and get Illiana out of dodge, and there was no way he'd be able to meet Hector at the speakeasy again. Roy was confident in his abilities, hell they taught you how to fight dirty in the army. But it was only human to avoid taking a beating, and blowing a friend's cover.

What was worse was that he couldn't just call him in front of Camilla. If what Illiana said was true, she was Luis' pawn in all of this. It would be terrible for his career if his life ended because some dame showed up at his office one cold winter night. Especially considering that he'd made every mistake in the book since their meeting.

With the kettle on the stove, he procured a cigarette and clutched it between his lips right as she asked to use his shower. It would provide a good opportunity to call Hector, if he was quick and quite enough. He bent over and lit his bogey before he took a long drag and exhaled it at her.

"Yeah go ahead. Right across the living room and to the left. I don't have any women's clothes at the moment. I'm currently at a dry spell at the moment. I can leave you some slacks and a shirt though. They'll be rather large on you, but they're clean" he offered, the tip glowing as he took another noxious breath

Camilla watched him, observed him but was just trying to come off as some doe in the headlights who was still terrified of the debacle last night, still recuperating from the potential ‘rape’ that she survived and wanting to wash away the dirtiness of it all. She wondered what happened the night before when he left. She had fallen asleep and she kind of wished she hadn’t, maybe followed him but she didn’t. That one was mark against her. She was going to have to amp it up if she wanted to see payday. She knew who Luis was and how dangerous he was. She had even been warned that if it was proved she was no longer of use to him, she wouldn’t see pay day and she wouldn’t even see the light of the next day, or rather the next minute.

She knew what hung in the balance and she had to do what she could. Next time, if he went anywhere and left her behind, she would follow him. She had to so she could report things back to Luis so he would also know what the drunk detective was up to and know how to totally—for lack of a better word—fuck him over.

Once he lit his cigarette, she nodded her head. “Thank you.” She turned and found the bathroom and shut the door. She stripped down and turned the water on before climbing in and letting the hot water pour over her naked frame. Oh, she had missed a shower and was so very happy to be getting clean right now. She showered for fifteen minutes before deciding she was rejuvenated enough.

Shutting the water off, she climbed out and wrapped a towel around her naked self before scooping up her clothes and walked out to his room. She found the clothes left for her and her face screwed up a little bit. The pants looked dirty but perhaps that shirt would be enough. Besides, he mentioned a little dry spell. She wondered if he would be impervious to a ‘vulnerable’ woman wearing only a shirt and nothing more.

She was a failed actress, nothing like the type of society girl she was hired to portray to trap him. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice that tidbit of a truth. Dropping the towel, she picked up the shirt and put it on and began to button it up. The hem came down just three inches above her knees and she pulled her long dark brown hair that was still a little bit wet, over her shoulder.

Walking out of his room, she traipsed back to where he was and perched her hip against the counter in the kitchen. “Thank you for letting me use your shower. And for doing all this. I don’t know how I could possibly and truly show you my gratitude.”