In Cold Blood (A Tntduo Fic)

• I • "Cover-Up"

Smoke trailed up from the cigarette hanging from Wilbur's lips, filling his eyes in a foggy grey haze. It stung, of course, but Wilbur really didn't care. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth before blowing a puff of smoke on the folders he was holding, chuckling as he did so.

Fight that broke out on corner of sixth was riled teens, not mob activity, The newspaper headlines read. Another perfectly done coverup, and of course Wilbur was proud. It had been a fight between two mafia groups, in fact it had been between the two biggest ones in the area, the Las Nevadas Mafia and the Syndicate.

Wilbur smirked before inhaling more smoke. He threw the papers and folders onto his desk, leaning back into his chair, his head hanging over the back as he blew out the smoke again.

"Soot, you know you're not supposed to smoke in here."

Wilbur looked over to the door to his office, smirk dropping as he saw the chief of police standing there and looking very unimpressed.

"Sorry," Wilbur said, though he didn't sound apologetic in the slightest. "You have an ashtray anywhere nearby?"

The chief sighed, looking directly at the no smoking sign before looking back to Wilbur.

"Alright then," Wilbur said, quickly dabbing the butt of the cigarette to his tongue multiple times. It burned and tasted terrible, but there was no change in his expression. He waved it around a bit before tossing it in the nearby trash bin.

"Fucking hell, Soot," the chief said. She sighed, peering into the trash can. "How the hell did that not burn you?"

Wilbur shrugged, finally sitting up straight.

"So what do you want?" He asked.

"Just wanted to congratulate you on finding the evidence that proved the fight wasn't a mafia affair," the chief said. "You seem to be good at debunking alleged Syndicate crimes."

"All in a good days work, ma'am," Wilbur said, hiding his smirk. "I keep wishing I'll find something that actually incriminates those bastards."

The chief hummed in response, seemingly distracted.

"Well, I'd better get going," Wilbur said, glancing at his watch. He stood up and slung his coat over his shoulders, walking over to the chief. Standing, Wilbur towered over her at a good nine or ten inch difference.

"Have a good night," the chief said.

"You too," Wilbur said, smirking. He walked out of the building, getting a few meters away from the entrance before laughing to himself. He pulled out his phone, texting his brother, Techno.

Another successful coverup. On my way home now, He typed out, reading it once over before sending it. He didn't expect to get a reply anytime soon. Techno was most likely busy with some kind of work.

He continued his walk home, thinking to himself. Yes, he was a member of the Syndicate. Why else would he help coverup their crimes? It was poetic, that he was such a high ranking Syndicate member who also happened to be the police force's highest regarded detective. But it wasn't like they didn't have secrets too. They were just as corrupt as the casino that the Las Nevadas Mafia ran, what with the embezzling and the fact that their main source of funding came from the Syndicate. They were far from saints.

He had a thing for poetry.

Wilbur's job was simple; gather intel from police officers, and coverup any crimes the Syndicate committed. He had been doing it for years and had gotten quite good at it.

Finally snapping out of his thoughts, Wilbur looked up to see the towering, shiny buildings of Las Nevadas. He couldn't go any farther that way, unless he wanted to run into any of the Las Nevadas Mafia. Considering he was on his own, he decided not to start any fights.