BENN AND IGNATZ
NORZAK'S OLD ROOM AT THE OFFICE
NOW A STORAGE SPACE
Adam wrote:Bennedict smiles, pulling the holding his hands up to allow them to dry after washing in the basin, trying to mask the shiver crawling down his spine. "As usual, Ignatz, your offer is very gracious, but I must decline. I do, however, value our partnership, and am glad you could take time to meet with me this morning."
He sets his bag down on Norzak's old table, looking down ascant at the creaky boards. "I called because there is a new case on my plate, one I care about a great deal. There is a murderer of women on the loose in the town, an old foe we were matched with named Jonathon Maytr. We had thought he had fled the city forever, but he has returned and is resuming his gruesome efforts."
He rustles in his bag, pulling out the small evidence pouch. "Last night, a woman was murdered by Maytr." Bennedict supplies him with the location. "I examined the scene and, during the encounter, it appears there was a struggle and he may have been splashed with this fragrance." He reaches into the pouch, fetching out the scrap of cloth. "I don't know how long it will stay on him but, knowing your people and their skills, I thought perhaps you may have be able to track him down. Or, perhaps, you've heard something of a new player in town?"
Ignatz takes the cloth, sniffs it, and then tucks it ino a pocket sewn into his cloak.
"I'll see what can be done."
He retrieves a moldy baguette from the floor beside him and begins gnawing it.
Talking between gobbles of bread, he says,
''New player? Not that I know of. But there's something strange going on in derelict quarter, the Ghost Streets. All that ash. Surprised you need me to tell you about it, but I guess you've been pretty busy thinking about your old pal Maytr and then doing the slice-up on the dead mattress-girl. '
Ignatz sniffs in the direction of the door to the office.
"The weird thing is there's been no big burn. Just cold ashes falling from the sky."
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)