Broken People (Serial)

Twelve

After years of playing the magician, Nicholas had reached the conclusion that people liked to be fooled. He tossed his gloves on top of his trunk and ran a hand through his hair. A flock of girls dressed in feathers rushed past him on their way to the stage, but he was done for the night. He rotated his acts so he wouldn't do the same tricks each night. Great, breathtaking acts could afford to be repetitive without anyone complaining, but he didn't belong in that category. He didn't plan to, either. Over the past few years, Nicholas had made a point of keeping a low profile and, so far, it had worked.

It wasn't working so well now. The small magic shows he did when he could afford to rent the theater hall in a city here and there were assumed risks. The big show he'd agreed to put on for the circus was a whole different story. If anything went wrong, they would not only be run out of town but, Nightingale or not, there was a fair chance for them to be lynched, too. Nicholas tugged on his necktie. He didn't fancy a new type of collar.

He didn't like the number of ties that kept connecting him to the circus. It wasn't safe—not for him or anyone. Big Dino wouldn't have allowed it. Damn him for going into hibernation earlier this season.

Nicholas's discontent grew when Riella arrived backstage, her fiery hair bouncing on her shoulders. It was too soon for her number, so she had to be looking for something—or someone, considering her flesh-colored costume left nothing to the imagination. After ignoring him for years, she'd developed a sudden interest in him once he became the art director.

"Where have you been?" Riella scolded him, her red lips pursing but, at the same time, promising to turn into a smile if he did his bidding wisely.

"I've been working," Nicholas said, closing the trunk.

"Well, Rake's been looking for you." She tapped her foot on the floor. "And he's in a hurry. He needs to go on next."

That didn't explain why Rake was looking for him. He probably wasn't looking at all because Rake knew where Nicholas would be during the show, but all those details were irrelevant to Riella. If she'd agreed to do Rake a favor, she most likely hadn't bothered to ask more about it. "Okay, I'm done here. Where is he?"

"He's waiting outside." Riella glanced towards the exit.

With a nod, Nicholas fetched his gloves and top hat, and headed out. He found Rake in the back of the big tent, leaning against an anchoring pole.

"What is it?"

"The chief of police is here," Rake said in a gruff voice. "He's not happy, and he wants to talk to the man in charge."

Nicholas blinked.

"That would be you."

"Ah."

"And after you're done with him, Armstrong is here, too."

"Did I tell you I charge per hour?" Nicholas replied.

"You wish." Rake gave him one of his rare smirks. "He's over there." He pointed in the direction of the cotton candy stand.

Nicholas peered at the round-bellied silhouette of the chief of police. The man stared at the white clouds of cotton candy handed over by a vendor but didn't reach for his wallet to buy one.

"What should I tell him?" Nicholas asked.

"I don't know what he wants, and you can't stop in the middle of the conversation to come and ask for consultation so—" Rake raised his shoulders, "—be creative."

"Oh, you don't want that." Nicholas laughed ruefully, shaking his head. "Any other advice besides that?"

"Sorry, I don't have any. Just do your best."

"Right." Nicholas straightened his back. "Here we go."

The chief of police had his back turned when Nicholas approached him. Reminding himself he was supposed to be someone important so he could afford to be bold, Nicholas tapped the man's arm with the handle of his walking stick. "Chief Horak ..."

"Mr. Renard," Horak grunted. "The mayor said I'd find you here."

"And here I am." Nicholas opened his arms wide, putting on the warmest smile he could muster. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Hmm." Horak frowned at the surrounding crowd. Although the big show was still on, there were a lot of people enjoying themselves outside, too. "You've done enough already. Half of my agents are here, working on a Saturday night."

"And bothering my audience," Nicholas said. "I won't thank you for that."

"We need to make sure your people aren't causing trouble, especially now." Horak gave the cotton candy one last mournful look and then stepped away from the stand.

"We've been stopping in the city for years, and there have never been any problems, even before the rules changed and you banned us." This topic had been widely debated among the circus employees, so Nicholas felt confident in his speech. The only extra thing Big Dino could have done was to slam his big fist into one of the stands, shattering everything, to make his point. But Nicholas was not a supporter of gratuitous violence. Everything had to be done for a reason. "The agents weren't very friendly with us when we went to the theater today. My people can't perform well during rehearsals when they're harassed. Accidents can happen. And there's little time left to begin with."

"That is not my problem," Horak said. "My only concern is the citizens' safety."

"Mayor Ternchiev has approved the show, so he obviously doesn't share your concerns."

"Mayor Ternchiev has other priorities." The unhappiness in Horak's voice hinted at a deeper problem. "Up until now, we only had to double our numbers on the outskirts of the town, but now we have to pay extra attention to downtown, too, and that's more sensitive. It takes many men and working hours, for which we have to pay."

So this is what's eating him. Horak wants a share of the profit, too. They should have expected it. "I'm sure we can come to an arrangement that is satisfactory for everyone. We could ..." Nicholas pretended to think about it. "We could offer a subvention to the city police as a sign of gratitude for ensuring good working conditions for our show."

Horak didn't have to think twice about it. "No. The show's a front. There are other activities you're doing that the mayor is overlooking, which are far more dangerous. My agents aren't pleased."

And disgruntled agents tended to display rough behavior. Of course, if money was exchanged, those agents wouldn't see any of it, but Nicholas couldn't think of a way around it. He stifled a sigh. Rake and Spinner weren't going to be pleased, but since they had left it up to him, he had to make a compromise. "Very well. We can spare five percent of our side business, but not a cent more."

"We can talk about it," Horak drawled.

"Not ... a ... cent ... more," Nicholas said. "I'm sure Mayor Ternchiev would be more than happy to receive that amount on behalf of City Hall, and we're ready to take our chances with the people living in the city."

Horak stomped his feet against the cold ground a couple of times, then nodded with a grunt. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to drag the missus out of the fortune teller's tent before the damned woman tells her she'll be getting rich or something."

Nicholas chuckled quietly as the chief of police walked away. It hadn't been so bad. He'd agreed to five percent, but he hadn't specified out of what. Rake and Spinner would like that. Now it was time for the other meeting, and since it wasn't wise to do it in the open, he walked to his car.