One

It was a cold and miserable night. The kind where I’d rather be curled up in my bed out in the back room instead of sitting here at my desk hoping for some kind of work to come my way.

My office was derelict, falling apart, and smelt of smoke. The smell was my fault, I’d been trying to give up the smokes and drink for years, but everyone has a vice.

Some would argue that where I worked wasn’t even considered a proper office. You see, it just happened to be a spare room in a multi-purpose building. The building saw all sorts of stuff happening inside.

There was a laundromat, a small grocery store. Even a barber. Then there was my spare room, up a set of rusted metal stairs that echoed through the building when you walked on em. Though it meant no privacy, it rarely mattered. Almost nobody came to see me.

I was a detective you see. But the thing was, it wasn’t a real good business going for me. I wasn’t too good at it you see, and to add to that, there seemed to be quite a few in this city too.

I was sitting there at my desk, thinking about the kind of stuff a man thinks about when he questions his decisions in life. After getting lost in my thoughts once again, I snapped to and remembered that my ex-wife was standing there. How long had she been screaming at me?

“Vince? Vince! You haven’t even been listening to me.” She stood there in her jeans and shirt wearing her work apron. She was a waitress at a restaurant down the road and she was dammed good at it too. Could carry six plates at once. She was gunning for management, and I knew she’d get it soon too.

“I’ve been listening, Rosita. I always do.” I gave it my best effort to crack a smile. I hated smiling; it showed my chipped teeth.

“No you haven’t. And you wanna know how I know? Because you have that stupid look on your face when you’re not listening to someone.” She pointed her finger at me. I don’t know why, but it always hurt when she did that. It felt like she was poking holes in my heart.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Just, repeat what you said please. I’m listening this time, I swear. Look, no stupid face.” I pointed at my face. No smile this time. I narrowed my eyes, forcing myself to focus.

“I said you better not forget to get Gabrielle something for her birthday. It’s this Saturday, remember? You can come, but make sure you tidy yourself up and get rid of that smell. No wonder she doesn’t like coming to see you.” And with that, my ex-wife walked away, and my heart sunk even lower. I always tried my best with Gabrielle, I did. Just my best wasn’t very good.

I opened the drawer to my oversized metal desk. I wanted a nice wooden one, one that would make me look like a professional, but believe it or not, this metal junk is cheaper than those wooden ones.

“Gotta buy me one of them real nice wooden ones one day.” It was a habit of mine, saying my thoughts out loud. Some people looked at me as though I was real weird, but I always found it helped.

I grabbed a bottle of the deep, green stuff. It was called Poison Apple. Came from the fairy land that lay in the middle of the city. Potent stuff this was, laced with some kind of magic, smuggled into Edge City by a rowdy dwarf, it hit harder than anything else I ever tried. Especially before them fairy folk came here.

I poured myself a glass and lit up a cigarette. It was cold and I needed a way to stay warm.

A noise slowly rose up through the building and I was shocked to realise what it was. Someone was coming up the stairs. I tried to not get too excited, it was probably he building manager demanding the rent I owed.

My door flung open and fell of its hinges.

“Sorry about that.” The voice was misty yet cut through the smokescreen that had started to form in the room.

“Not a problem. That was gonna happen any moment. Are you alright?” The figure stepped into the room.

She was a tall woman, probably over six feet. She wore one of those fancy, white satin dresses. The type that rich folk wore. The kind of folk that wouldn’t be caught a mile from my place.

She wore elbow length gloves that matched her dress. The kind to protect the skin. Most likely so her hands didn’t smell like smoke. It takes a smoker to know a smoker, and I could tell.

Her black hair was swept down one side, revealing her long pointy ear on the other side of her head. And I noticed she wore a delicate lattice of golden chain through her hair.

“Now what’s a noble elf doing here in my building?” I stared right at her. I tried to get a read on her. I took a swig of the Poison Apple.

“I need your help. My fiancée has been murdered.” Her voice was like a whipcrack echoing through the night. Almost as good as Kipp’s, almost. I placed my boots up on my desk and tilted my head to the side.

“And why did you come to see me? Didn’t your own folk want to help out?” These people rarely turned to outside help.

“They aren’t interested in helping out.” She looked distraught. Like she had just come running here. I narrowed my eyes at her and rattled my brains for a moment, then it dawned on me.

“It’s because your fiancée is a human. Was a human.” I stood up and walked over to the one window I had that looked outside. She had no carriage or car waiting outside, which was strange.

“Yes, he was. Please, will you help me?”

“I will, but can I ask you one thing?”

“I can pay you half now, and half later.” She flung a small brown sack of gold onto my desk. From the sound of the impact, there was at least six hundred gold pieces in that.

“Now you know that money’s only good when I visit your land.” I continued to look out the window.

“I know, but I didn’t have any time to make an exchange.”

“That’s okay. Can I ask you one more question?”

“Yes. But please, the longer you leave it, the harder this will be to solve.” She had started to cry.

“Why did you come to me? There are many, many more lucrative detectives out there.”

“They were all busy and you were the only one left.” Any sense of pride that started to build was blown away in an instant.