BNG-005
St. Valentine's Ledger
Patron: Elliot Finch
Date: Aug 2nd, 1923 – Gold Coast District
Location: St. Valentine's (Dressing Room #3)
Proprietor: Glass-Eyes
Five was for the song, darling. Another five for your help. You don't get a cent extra if you wandered into hell without a chaperone or sufficient candy. You want hazard pay? Try not stepping over the edge next time. No, you'll be getting your regular rate. And I still expect you to sing once this is all over with. Maybe I'll throw in a glance at that locket of yours if you polish it up for me.
Now, onto business.
I had Agatha clean up the glass of gin in the dressing room as gently as she could without moving it an inch. The booze that was in the glass already pissed off. Can't keep volatiles shining for long, can you? But the lip of the glass sure enough had the vision I was hoping to see. I finally saw something new. Something I had missed. Not just Finch. But I saw you, Nickels.
Not the version of you that writes too clever and thinks too loud. No. This version of you was hunched in the corner. Watching. Waiting. Humming. And that poor boy Finch behind you looked terrified. He was shaking bad, a tremor in his hand, a dagger tight in his grip. I ran through the vision again. Three times now. I've seen everything clear as crystal. Your coat. Your grin. Your hands clenched like you'd been holding your breath for a year. Your body screaming at you to "skip out" again.
Then crack.
Finch's neck spun around just like that.
Looks like you've got friends in high places. Or, perhaps, low. I still believe that you didn't hear a thing. If you killed the kid you would've come to clean to it. No. You skipped out as fast as you could and you couldn't have cared less about the world around you or the man dying two feet from you.
Eh. Don't think too much of it. Looked like he was trying to kill you first, anyhow.
Hm…
What song did you sing the night before he died?
Be honest.