Tales from the Triverse

Traffic: Part 4

Early Shift
On duty: DC Nisha Chakraborty and DC Zoltan Kaminski

London.
1972. August.

The grey morning light seeped around the edges of the rooftops, not quite penetrating down to the narrow alleys that ran through the Barrel. The streets had their own hangover, shutters for eyelids, doors half-open and venting odours from within, an odd quiet hanging in the air compared to the previous night. Visitors from across London had retreated to their safer neighbourhoods, leaving the more permanent residents to clean up the mess.

Kaminski dropped his cigarette to the floor and ground it down with his heel. "Make sure the rear exits are secured before we go in," he said, the sergeant nodding as he continued readying his officers. "I don't want anyone getting out through doors, windows, secret passageways or fucking hot air balloons. We think the boss man is in there, most of the staff are still clearing up the place. I want to talk to all of them." He turned to the others: Chakraborty present, of course, but Clarke also, looking like he hadn't slept and was about to fall into his own grave. "I need you to identify your witness. Point her out and we'll get her into protective custody. And we'll talk more about you stealing our case later."

Clarke shrugged. "Fine. I gave it back to you. You can thank me later."

"OK, let's go," Chakraborty said, "we don't want any lookouts sending out a warning before we get in."

They moved all at once, officers surrounding The Palinese Express, blocking all routes in and out - easier said than done in the Barrel - and then converging on the building. Kaminski and Chakraborty followed the sergeant through the front door, the bouncers being held off to one side. Kaminski winked at one of them as he passed.

Inside there was a rush of panicked bodies, as those still in the building tried to either hide evidence of nefarious activities or distance themselves from it. Kaminski caught a glimpse of suited legs disappearing up a staircase at the back of the main room and pointed officers in their direction. A minute later it was over, dejected faces all around and officers corralling everyone into small groups. He could see a mix of humans and aen'fa, though it was clear who was in charge. The aen'fa - male and female - all shared the same look of dejected resignation.

Clarke approached. "We've got her," he said. "I'm going to clear out before anyone recognises me from earlier." Kaminski nodded then headed towards the stairs.

Climbing to the upper floor, Kaminski placed a hand on Chakraborty's shoulder. "Good job Clarke was paying attention for once."

She look at him sceptically. "We'd have got here on our own."

Kaminski made a non-committal noise, then pushed open the door to what turned out to be a manager's office of sorts. Inside there were two police officers flanking the door, and another examining the contents of a large, ornate wooden desk. Upon the walls were mounted a variety of unusual skulls; unusual in that they were not of Earth origin. Palinese species, then, and Kaminski was somewhat relieved to not see a koth or aen'fa represented. A man in a sharp suit was sat on a chair, looking annoyed and out of breath but otherwise unconcerned.

"What's your name?" Chakraborty asked.

The man tilted his head and looked her up and down, deliberately lingering on every curve of her body. "I'd love to know your name, darling, but I don't need to tell you mine until my lawyer arrives." His voice was higher pitched than Kaminski expected.

The officer at the desk held up a business card. "Says here his name is Malcolm Ellis."

"I can see I've got some crack detectives here," Ellis said with a grin.