The Song Of The Blackbird

Chapter 2

Q woke up with a text on his phone.

This is Nico from last night, nothing's wrong, just letting you know its me : )

He turned off his phone, not responding to the text. He wasn't sure what he would have said if he did respond, so he just didn't bother.

Q reluctantly pulled himself out of bed and began to get ready to go to work.

On the bus ride to the office, Q noticed a guy standing in line at a coffee shop. He was the guy that Q helped at the apartment building last night. He thought there was something about him, he wasn't sure what, or if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but it intrigued Q.

They weren't too far away from Q's workplace. Q thought that maybe he could get off the bus and go talk with him, but before he could act on his thought, the bus began to jerk away from the bus stop.

********

Q walked up to the door of the tall building and showed his ID to the security guard and made his way to the elevator. He wondered if the guard got fed up with all these detectives going in and out, acting like they were better than the police. He'd seen it before, some jerk walking around treating people below him like shit. Q hated that about this place. It was full of the people who wanted to one-up almost everyone. To show people that they deserved the top spot. Q didn't think like that.

The elevator reached the tenth floor with a ding. Q stepped out of the elevator, onto a floor of people sitting at desks. His desk was in its own room on the opposite side of the elevators. As he walked by all the other desks, he noticed people were in a sort of calm frenzy. As if something had just happened in the building. Not anything like a bomb threat, but more like an, "Oh my gosh, did you hear that the higher-ups are suing a reporter?".

Q ignored it and decided he would just lock himself in his office, avoiding the workplace drama at all costs.

Q could probably get away with not even looking at anyone else from his floor for his whole shift, except for the fact that his desk was right next to the giant windows on his wall that faced the desks and workers.

It's not that Q didn't like social interaction, it was just that he would rather not get buddy buddy with his coworker when he knew that most all of them had their eyes on his job.

He sat down at his desk and prepared to get to work. Q noticed that his mail had come early today. Usually the mail came around halfway through his shift. His job was cool like that, everyday he was provided with a newspaper and a couple magazines. It fascinated Q on how much crap they could fit in those things. Don't even get him started on the magazines, all that celebrity gossip, Q couldn't handle it. He could care less, but part of his job is being informed on what's going on in the area. So, every day he reluctantly skimmed through the articles and headlines.

Today's headlines though, were different.

The usual politics, local hero, or health benefits was gone. In its place was something that almost made Q want to give his job to someone else. On the front page of one of the magazines were the words "THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM?". This alone made Q roll his eyes, but the subtitles are what made him angry. "Inmates all around London tell stories of a criminal that will make Jack the Ripper run for the hills." Q scoffed and opened it up to the article and read the entire thing.

The article was like nothing he'd ever read before. It talked about a criminal mastermind that controlled all the major criminals, how he was plotting his attack on the police and everyone in power. The author of the section seemed to have unbelievable access to the criminal world. Which is why Q chalked it up to a bunch of clickbait shit. Why would criminals, who apparently were controlled by this big Disney villain, talk about their boss (Who had never been heard of before this) to a magazine publisher? On top of that, the magazine it was published in wasn't one Q had heard of before. Which made him think that it was just some small publishing company, trying to bait their way to popularity.

He skimmed through the rest of the magazine and tossed it in the recycling bin next to his desk.

The rest of Q's shift went as it had the last two weeks. Slow as hell.

He investigated a little further into the people who lived in the apartment building. Everyone was still extremely normal. No ex-criminals, no sex offenders, nobody in witness protection (Q had his ways), nothing unusual.

Q pulled out his phone and sent a text to Nico.

Everyone in your building is extremely normal. Which is good for you, bad for me. I need (As the kids these days say) the tea!

He pressed send and set his phone back down on his desk. About thirty minutes later, Q's phone buzzed, and he opened it to read a text from Nico.

Whew! Thank god I chose the right place, the Yelp reviews on this place were slim to none. (Also, pretty sure the lady down the hall is a prostitute, saw her looking at me funny this morning as I was leaving, also asked me if I was the type of bloke to party 0-0). The tea is cold, my friend.

Q laughed at that and knew exactly which lady he was referring to. He noticed that she had worked at a strip club for most of her life and had just recently gotten a job in an exclusive Pay-At-The-Door-For-Secrecy night club. He quickly texted Nico back.

Watch out, she holds many secrets about old rich guys paying for confidentiality.

Only after Q sent the text did he realize that that made him sound like he was one of those old rich guys (Even though he was only twenty-nine). His phone buzzed.

Wow, lots to learn about you huh? :) Didn't know you were that kind of guy. No judgments though!

Q laughed and quickly texted back.

You pillock! I can see where she works. Detective remember???

Nico texted back almost immediately

Oookayy, whatever you say!

Q didn't know what to respond to that, so he didn't.

He looked at the clock and noted that he had about two hours left in his shift. Q thought that he might as well try and get some more work done.

***********

Thirty minutes to the end of Q's shift, he heard a loud commotion coming from the main section of the floor. He looked out the windows of his office and saw a guy surrounded by the office workers which were in a panic. Q opened the door and saw that the guy was disheveled, eyes were red with tears, and his clothes looked like they hadn't been washed in weeks. The first thing Q noticed though, was that he was holding a gun to his head.

"I need to talk to Detective Peter Quincy." He was crying as he spoke. Q could tell he was afraid. Q pushed through the people around him, who were trying to calm the man down, and made it in front of the guy.

"I'm Peter Quincy. What can I do for you?" Q aired on the side of caution, he didn't want to do anything that upset this guy and made him shoot himself or anyone else.

"The storm is coming," He stopped to sniffle, tears were streaming down his face at this point, "He wants you to know you'll need an umbrella."

"Who?" Q asked, approaching the man slowly, "Who says this? Are they making you do this against your will?"

"It is an honor to serve him, and he sends his regards." Q could see the guy squint his face as he pulled the trigger.

There was nothing Q could've done. That's what everyone had been telling him. What he had been telling himself.

The guy's name was Jeremy Summers. He lived in the apartment building that the burglary occurred in, and when his apartment was searched, the suits that had been stolen were found. The money he stole had been long gone, most likely spent on other things.

When Q interviewed his family members, they said that he would never steal anything, and that this was not something he would ever do. Apparently, he was studying criminal justice at university.

The paperwork was going tobe atrocious.