hear the wolf howl

perhaps his own lax attitude and distaste for caring about anything made it much easier to recognize someone tightly wound from a mile away. and just like in any other case, this was even more of an invitation for barty to say whatever he wanted. he gave a dramatic sigh of resignation, before turning to face alice and smirking. “so is this the part where you handcuff me?” he asked, holding his wrists out to her mockingly. “strip search me? because, i have to say, i can think of far more intriguing places than the police department to do that.” 

laughing under his breath, he shook his head before sitting back against the bench. “relax, detective. i haven’t even done anything wrong. this time, at least,” he pointed out, before pausing. he could easily tell her what he knew, but that could just as easily place enough evidence in their hands and end up with him arrested again. and besides, where was the fun in that? “i’ve come along out of the kindness and graciousness to my own heart to pass along some information to you. as a good samaritan,” he explained, holding his hands up in some show of innocence. 

“there’s been rumors going around about the break in at the district attorney’s office. regarding the files. word has it that one of them mentions you by name.” 

Disgusted by his lewd innuendos, the smile on Alice’s face dropped, recoiling in disgust. Still, knowing she had to keep up with him, prove his equal in this little dance they were doing, she retorted quickly. “As if you should be so lucky.” Nothing, she knew, would wipe that smirk off his face - it never did in men like him. Alice had met far too many of them in her time - in bars, on the streets - but the worst were those behind bars, with nothing to lose and everything to gain. In this case, their positions were flipped. He had everything to gain. She had everything to lose. It seemed her fate could be in the hands of Barty Crouch Jnr and she hated it.

“Nothing that can be proved beyond reasonable doubt.” Alice corrected, levelling his gaze. Hate as she did to admit it, Barty was slick - too masterful a criminal to be brought to justice. No jury would convict him on the basis of what they had. Another instance of the wheels of society failing at its purpose. “Word has it, does it?” Although she kept her tone steely, a flicker of doubt crept into it, a ton of bricks hovering above her shoulders. What did they say? How could they implicate her? She was careful, right? Alice thought about asking him outright - but knew there was no point to it. He would only evade, or lie. “Rumours aren’t always true.”

She should know better. She should know better than this, than to interfere with the wheels of justice whilst Barty held the truth over her head, whilst a magnifying glass was on the scope of her failures, whilst the foundations of her world were so tenuous, threatening to crumble. She should know better. But she didn’t.

And where Frank was concerned, that was a choice she’d make over and over. Some things run deeper than justice, than self-preservation, than what it means to be a member of society. History hums through us all, pulling towards our fates. Years ago, she had abandoned her friend, condemned him to a life behind bars. Tonight, she wouldn’t make the same mistake. Not only something to mundane. A menace to the public. A slip up, a mistake. But where ex-convicts were concerned, the law didn’t know the meaning of fair.

Dismissing the officer on desk duty, Alice closed the door behind him, turning to face Frank’s cell. It was just the two of them. It hadn’t been that way for a long time.

“You must really like trouble.”

Where: Random Black safehouse Who: @fortescucs

Bella never would say she “ordered” Alice to meet her at one of the safehouses but they both knew what this meant. With Regulus sending Rabastan on a wild goose hunt and Bella not trusting Vincent enough, she was left with no choice but to seek Alice out. Slamming the car door, Bella had parked several blocks away on 1st, while the safehouse was on 3rd so by the time she was there, she figured she was safe enough. 

Finding Alice already inside, she placed the file on the desk and crossed her arms, displeased with everything going on, clearly. “Apologies for being blunt, but you might be the best person to examine this.” She uttered, pulling a cigarette out of her pack. Lighting up, Bellatrix took a long drag, glancing back at Alice. “I don’t trust… the other one,” she narrowed her eyes, hoping Alice would understand whom she was talking about. “But this… is a dangerous file. If you find anything out, don’t tell anyone but me. I need to handle this alone first.”

Although Alice liked to imagine herself beyond the beck and call of Bellatrix, the pair of them knew that when the latter clicked her fingers, the former could do nothing but follow. Being bound to Bellatrix was better than the shackles of the law - the gilded cage that did nothing but bore her. With wings too large to be contained, it was time to take flight. Or so went the romantic version. 

“Don’t apologise. I like someone who gets down to business fast.” There was a reason Alice trusted her fate into Bellatrix’s fingertips. She was reliable, succinct - and someone you really didn’t cross. Smiling a little at her reference, she inclined her head. “Then why do you keep him around?” Running her fingers down the spine of the folder, Alice studied it carefully. “What’s in it?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Minnie informed Alice with a small smirk forming on her lips. “Stay at the precinct long enough, and you’ll see all manner of things used to end a life-books included on that list.” She raised an eyebrow, keeping her expression carefully neutral as she hinted at some of her odder cases in her past. “I hope you’re keeping your reading material to safer subjects, though it does seem dull in comparison,” Minnie said as she considered it. 

“Well, I hope to be there for a long time yet.” Concealing the doubt with a bright smile, Alice refused to let Minnie past the mask she had carefully screwed into place. There was never going to be a certainty to her future - Alice had tossed that out the way the moment she had accepted Bellatrix Black’s offer. The knifes edge could be fun, if you knew how to avoid being sliced. “Although I did once have a case where someone murdered their wife with a doorknob, cleaned it and screwed it back on.” Lying through her teeth, Alice smiled. “No worries. No books hefty enough to commit murder - or ones that detail the intricate nature of poisonous plants.”

guilt didn’t gnaw at remus as much as he thought it once would. were it this time two years prior, or even perhaps just last year, he’d feel unsettled by the things he and the marauders were doing in the night. now, though ? what bothered him the most was the feeling he wasn’t doing enough. he knew he had limits but limits be damned. he wanted to get his hands dirty, he just wanted to do more. if the choice of that impacted his health – well, that was a risk he was becoming more and more willing to take. remus sat on the bench, the newspaper laying flat on his lap. he didn’t really read it, more like he skimmed, but few things could catch his attention. he had certain trigger words he looked out for. it they weren’t there, he didn’t care. he turned to look at the voice – alice. for a second, he stared, but then he shrugged his shoulders and gave a nod. “ i already did the crossword, so really there’s no value left in this for me. ” he cracked a brittle smile. “ maybe you’ll gain more from it. ”

Arching an eyebrow in surprise, Alice took the newspaper, unfolding it and briefing scanning the headlines before turning back to Remus. There was nothing much of value, another column detailing the sins of the NYPD, another article on the various missteps they had made in trying to track the culprit responsible for the break-in. Glancing down at the crossword, she let off a reluctantly impressed sigh. Today’s was hard. “I didn’t take you for a crossword kinda guy.” Then again, Alice wasn’t sure she knew Remus all that well - only that he was a frequent at the speakeasies, a close confidante of Evelyn - and seemed to have only three friends. Not unusual. “Unfortunately it seems a little dry for actual news today.”

She wished not to take notice of the familiarity of the other’s face. Desired to engross herself in something else, to stand and walk away. But she had chosen this life, didn’t she? And perhaps, even if she hadn’t, she would be caught by the pull of skills she had shaped since she walked out of the courtroom, refusing to spill her tears.

So with a sigh trapped in her throat, she scanned the stranger’s face, their gazes meeting when the other glanced her way. Tilting her head, Amelia muttered, “Small mercies indeed. Better than nothing, I suppose.”

Pursing her lips, she finally asked, “Have we met before? I believe I’ve seen you around.”

The face still refused to click into place. Half of her wanted to probe that curiosity, pull at the string until it unravelled itself, revealing whatever truth lay underneath. The other half warned herself away, some inner instinct telling her to be careful, to play this situation with caution. Having long given up on logic, she chose the former option, settling in.

“Maybe we run in the same circles and we just don’t know it. New York is small like that.” In her line of work, it felt like everyone knew everyone. It wasn’t just the nature of the job - but the essence of New York itself. Under speakeasy spotlights, foes became friends - even if just for a night. “I’m Detective Fortescue.” 

Reading the files that he’d stolen was all part of the plan. Not only did he have all of the knowledge to himself, another ace in the hole whenever he needed to get himself out of something tricky - but now essentially three of the players in this game owed him something.  That was the plan - and in truth, nothing that was in the files was truly alarming or shocking. It was all expected - crimes covered up, information that was hidden. And for those reading it, they probably wished they got more than what they bargained for. Barty could keep his hands clean of this, not caring who or what happened after. The only wrench that was thrown into the works was that the file mentioned specific names. 

Anyone could easily know that specifics meant trouble. As he saw who was asking, Barty - against his better judgment - wondered what would happen if he spoke to her about it. He paused for a moment, which was never good. A pause meant that he was thinking, and that meant trouble. This could go either of two ways, and he was more than certain that given his luck, it would go poorly. And still, despite his own integrity - or lack thereof - he did unfortunately still have some semblance of a conscience. Even in the instance of a cop who’d gotten in over their head at some point. With a drawn out exhale, Barty ran a hand over his face, before turning to Alice. He held out the paper, before pulling it back in towards himself. “This can wait. I need to speak to you about something.” 

Barty. His was the name on everyone who was anyone’s lips, the light-footed thief who crept into the precinct and robbed them blind. The secret keeper, the puppeteer - poets would no doubt think of a thousand names to match his status, bestowing upon him a sense of importance. Alice couldn’t bring herself to admit it was undue. Treacherous as she might be, she was still smart - and whilst some were content to let their brains rot, she wasn’t. Still, she wouldn’t submit so easily. Expression tightening, she retorted, “I think I’d prefer to have that conversation in an interrogation room.” 

She wasn’t so foolish as to think he’d ever confess to anything that would land him in jail, or even divulge the full content of his secrets - but she wanted him to know she could make that play, if she wanted to. It could just come at a cost. Perhaps one too high to be worth paying.

where: some bookstore near the precinct

when: lunchtime

who: open

Minnie’s day could have been better - should have been, really - but she had made the resolution to try and make it more positive. There was no reason to dwell on the stress of her job, or the fine line she sometimes walked with those she held closest to her, or the fact that her apartment still sometimes felt empty years after the loss of her husband. She wandered through the familiar shelves, trying to find a particular book, only to round a corner, knocking a book out of someone’s hands. “So sorry about that,” she said, stooping to pick up the book from the floor, “Are you okay?”

As far as coincidental encounters went, bumping into Minerva was hardly unpleasant, even if Alice did feel herself chafe under those watchful eyes from time to time. You could get used to that though, if you tried. Rubbing the sore spot where their heads had collided, she smiled.  “Books never did kill anyone.” Accepting the dropped book spine first, Alice rubbed the palm of her hand over its cover. “Although I hear their contents can be deadly from time to time.”

Honestly she was barely registering the words on the newspaper. A scattered mined distracted her from anything of substance. The danger of a delayed shipment, of navigating how exactly to report her findings without placing a target on her back wrecked her. She had been doing this work for enough years that she should know better; and yet, here she was, suffering an internal whirlpool of the fear that her world was ending.

And it wasn’t. At least, not yet. But there was always that chance —

Wait. A question. To her. She looked to the side, straightening her posture against the bench. Flicking her gaze to the part of the newspaper she held, she licked her lips and held it to the other woman. “Take the whole thing if you like. Pretty much done with it.”

Cocking her head a little, Alice studied the woman intently - puzzled as she struggled to put a face to name to purpose. Familiarity, in this city, was never as simple as it seemed. There were no such things as chance encounters, merely spiders webs - tangled and getting thicker. If she was a petty criminal, then that wasn’t a problem in itself. But if she belonged to one of the great syndicates...then who knew? Airing on the side of caution, Alice nodded, deftly grabbing the newspaper and scanning its content. “Well, at least the ‘deaths’ section doesn’t look too thick today.” Although muttered for for her own purposes, she still glanced at the woman, growing more familiar by the second. Blood. Blood. Blood. Would there ever be anything but blood on her fingertips? And was that by mistake or purpose? “Small mercies.”

Floor plans. Suspicious deaths. Covering up a murder. Three separate strands of thought ran concurrently through Alice’s brain, each enough to shake her to her core. Floor plans. Suspicious deaths. Covering up a murder. Somewhere along the way, her life had become tangled. Try to tease logic out - and she might end up unravelling herself, coming undone. No, it was better to keep it locked up on the inside, where no one could see.  Floor plans. Suspicious deaths. Covering up a murder. Chewing the inside of her lip, her eyes glanced around, searching for a distraction. Spotting the corner of a newspaper half-way down the bench, she tilted her head, making out the tail-end of a headline. - BACK UP NYPD. Forehead creased, Alice glanced at the occupant on the other end of the bench. Pointing towards the paper, she nodded in their direction. “Mind if I pinch that?”

“I’m not here to comment on your detective skills, Officer,” Evelyn replies, raising a shoulder as a shrug. At the jab at her business, her eyes narrow ever so slightly, hardly noticeable at all; there wasn’t much that could get under Evelyn Rosmerta’s skin, but the Boulvardier is her pride and joy. “I’ve been around for years, my dear, the business sinks when I do.”

Irked the wrong way by her comment, Alice tried to shrug off the offence - knowing better than to get into a cat-fight with the owner of her favourite speakeasy. It really would be too much of an inconvenience to find somewhere else. Seeking to refuse the tension, she let her limbs relax. “Please, call me Alice.” Tonight, of all nights, Alice was no officer. “Let’s both pray that doesn’t happen then. The city would be at a loss.”

Marlene figured that somewhere in the ballroom, she could have found liquor. A drink or two might have been nice to take the edge off, but she wanted to stay alert. She was in the den of the enemy, after all. So, with another glass of sparkling cider in her hand, she leaned against the bar and let her eyes fall on the band at the front of the room. It wasn’t long before she heard a voice speak up beside her, and she glanced over with a raised eyebrow. “You can have a sip if you’d like to check,” she said, offering the woman her glass. She felt as if she had seen the woman before, but couldn’t put a name to the face. “Though you do know where you are, don’t you?” she said with a laugh. 

It took Alice longer than she would have liked to place her newfound companion. And even then, details were...scant - to say the least. A name? Impossible, far beyond reach. But her face? When she put her mind to it, the detective could place it - side by side with Frank’s, lips curled up into a teasing smile, always on the cusp of a joke. Light and breezy. Alice was almost envious of that easiness. That sort of freedom would have been nice, a lifetime or two ago, perhaps. Having confirmed her association to Frank, she was in no great hurry to rush off. Instead, Alice laughed gently, declining her offer. “Wouldn’t want to smudge lipstick all over your glass.” Then, after a pause. “Well, the invitation said memorial gala. For charity.”

“Oh come on Alice, we’re only human.” She kept a stern face before it broke into a slight teasing smile. It wasn’t a secret how Bella thought of her family as modern royalty, how they each brought something different to the table and it was Bellatrix who held them together with an iron force. She knew anything happening tonight was mostly for show anyways. Her eyes narrowed, seeing Alice inch closer towards danger. “Clearly by spending more time together. I’m sure we’d be good friends, Alice.”

Knowing better than to make her inner most thoughts public, Alice muttered a thank god for that in her head, where it would stay private. Although their partnership went back several months, Alice never knew how Bellatrix would react - it was best to tiptoe. Especially in public. “I’m not sure what sort of friendships you’ve had...but the nature of our relationship doesn’t usually tend to qualify.” Sipping at her drink, she let out a soft sigh. Then, remembering temperamentality, she added. “No offence. I just have a feeling the gig would be up pretty fast if we...hung out.” 

Wandering around the halls of the grand home, surrounded by too many unfamiliar faces that sent her nothing but sneers, Lily couldn’t remember the last time she felt so alone. She wished she could have had Kingsley here, at the very least, or been able to bring her mother as a guest. Spotting Alice across the crowd thus immediately made Lily feel less alone. In a precinct surrounded by men, Lily had become fond of Alice. It was hard not to admire the achievements of a woman who had become a detective against all odds, and all Lily wanted to do was follow in her footsteps. 

“Somehow I managed to, yes,” Lily felt it was hard to keep the smile off of her face. Alice’s familiarity was like a breath of fresh air in the ballroom. Only when surrounded by strangers, and too many people who felt like enemies, was Lily able to realize how good it was to have a friend. “It’s a hard invitation to the turn down. This is one of the most exclusive parties in the entire city, after all,” with Alice, Lily finally felt like she was allowed to not keep her excitement at bay. 

“I can go out without my uniform for one night,” Lily shook her head, “Though, admittedly, I do feel out of place. How about you, Alice? You look like such a doll.” 

There were, Alice mused, two sorts of people in the world. The pure hearted and the corrupt. The good and the bad. Those who stepped into the snakes nest only to quiver - and those who entered as a wolf, a predator in their own right. Although cloaked in resounding goodness, Alice suspected Lily was the latter - mettled and ready to prove her worth. Not tonight, Alice thought, sending up a silent prayer. Please let tonight go softly. There was enough trouble brewing without throwing a police badge into it. Seeking to distract herself, Alice paid back the compliment in kind. “The Black’s obviously have good taste. I mean, you look the bees knees.”

“Keeping one eye on the hosts and another on the newest plot twist.” Nodding over at Emma Vanity, Alice made sure Lily could follow her gaze - betting that the redhead was all caught up with the newest developments in the murder of Gideon Prewett. A witness. Out of the blue. Identifying someone Alice knew for a fact was innocent.  A movie star in more than just her features, elegance dripped from her, a beacon pulling the room in. Even if Alice hadn’t known the truth, she would have been sceptical of Emma’s capacity for cold-blooded murder. “Other than that, taking as much free food home as possible.”

Evelyn raises her flute at the other woman in response, smiling a little. “You’re the one who questioned it first, dear. Badge tucked away for the night? Not undercover?” Back-and-forth lighthearted bantering is second-nature; Evelyn has become an expert in batting away things she does not want to talk about. But unlike Lily, Alice knows about her speakeasy. “Probably somewhere where they serve juice and water, like you’re supposed to. Don’t tell me you’ve grown attached to my business?”

Meeting her challenge with a teasing smile of her own, Alice leaned in closer, ready to jest. “If I was undercover, I’d be doing a pretty shoddy job at it - wouldn’t I?” The truth was, she was undercover - just in a way that few here could, or would, imagine. But such secrets were best kept to oneself, safe and tucked away. “Not at all. That would be very hasty of me - considering how fast circumstances change here in New York.”

date/location: march 25th, 1925. the black gala.  status: open 

Getting an invitation to the gala had been a surprise to Lily herself; then again, most of the past couple years had been a surprise to her, so she really wasn’t sure what to expect anymore. Like most things that happened in the city, the way some members of the Black family had come to know her seemed a bit off. But, who was she to turn away some of the most powerful people in the city, or turn down an invitation to their gala? So many whom Lily had files open about on her desk or a curiosity about would be there and many of her superiors wouldn’t be. More than anything, it was the perfect chance for something. 

Still, she couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place in a dress from the back of her mother’s closet that she was sure had once belonged to Petunia. The women around her were far better dressed, in ensembles that were surely new and fancy, and Lily was sure she stuck out like a sore thumb. With every look she got, she wished more and more than she had her revolver with her; at least with it, she’d feel a little more secure. 

“Oh,” Lily exclaimed, spotting a person in front of her of interest. Staying focused on what she wanted would keep her not thinking about how little she belonged. “Hello,” she smiled, approaching them as if she wasn’t afraid at all, as if they knew who she was completely. “I was wondering if I’d be seeing you tonight.”

Lily. Even if Alice hadn’t seen her face daily, she would have recognised her fellow police officer anywhere. The copper hair was a dead giveaway. But it was more than that. It was in the way Lily held herself, the righteous tone of her voice, her true belief in justice, her passion to see good triumph over evil. It reminded Alice so much of herself, not so long ago, that it broke her heart from time to time. All she could do was send a silent prayer, to a God who wasn’t listening, that Lily wouldn’t turn out the same way as her. That Lily wouldn’t ever get caught in the crossfire. Hoping could only go so far.

“You got an invitation too, huh?” Half of Alice was almost glad of it, relieved that her presence couldn’t be called into question if Lily was here too. The other half was terrified, afraid Lily’s sharp eyes would sense something was amiss, or spot Alice in idle conversation with a Death Eater she had no right to know. Never one to drop anything, that curious spark inside of Lily could get her into trouble from time to time. For now, however, it was just the two of them. Safe.  "I hadn’t thought you’d take them up on it though.” Case files on suspected gang members was one thing, entering their blue blooded world? Quite another. “Or out of uniform.” She teased.

Behind bars, Frank mulled over a lot. He mulled over whether or not his mother knew he was in jail and, if she did, whether or not she cared. He thought about how Molly was dealing with Fabian and Gideon’s shenanigans–if they were being safe out there–and who they had chosen to drive them instead. He thought about the soda shoppe on the corner of Broadway and W 50th and the delicious ice cream sundaes they made (the owner always gave him an overabundance of chocolate sauce and roasted nuts). But nothing so exhausted his brain and controlled his attention as Alice did. 

Alice Fortescue. Childhood best friend. Prophesied wife. The only girl so far that managed to totally eclipse his rational thinking, even at his best. He’d seen the cop cars outside, patrolling the area. He knew they were here to protect  everyone attending, especially those who were not part of any faction, because an event like this was practically begging to go up in flames. He’d kept to the side, made small talk, avoided the wrong people and charmed the right, and as best as he could for someone just released from prison, he kept his cool. Of course, most of that was based on the fact that he assumed Alice would be working.

Not staring at him with those deep chocolate-y eyes that reminded him of the candy bars he’d steal from his father’s bodega just for her. “Alice,” he sputtered out, but he choked on the word as it came up his throat. “My apologies, I just–I–well. You look absolutely stunning this evening,” he said, focusing hard enough to make sure he didn’t smile. “Excuse my behavior, I just wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight. Working, perhaps… Catching criminals and all that you do–which you do quite well if I do say so myself.” 

Ouch. She hadn’t known how much it would hurt her to see him like this. Released. A civilian. So...normal. Behind bars, he had been easy to package, a box in her mind - one that couldn’t be touched, that didn’t need to be opened. But here, dressed to the nines, with that voice - it stirred a thousand memories inside of her, few of them pleasant. Why would they be? After all, childhood had come and gone, a thousand years ago. There were no more playground fights to be rescued from, no more shoulders in need of crying, no grief-stricken boy to protect, no childhood best friend to plan the rest of her life with. There was only the sound of sirens, a trial executed far too quickly - and her voice, the one condemning.

What were you supposed to do with pieces that looked like that? 

“Oh.” Blank in the face of the compliment, she dipped her gaze quickly, unaccustomed to the feeling of having him stare so deeply into her soul. It had been a long time. You forgot things like that. “Thank you.” And then, after a pause. “You don’t clean up too badly either.” She hadn’t known that about him. Or if she had, she’d forgotten. “No - you don’t need to - “ This is my fault. No matter the sentiment however, Alice couldn’t string together a coherent sentence, not one worth hearing, anyway. Sidestepping the dagger in her heart as he mentioned her righteousness, Alice smiled softly.  “You know what they say, all work and no play makes Jill a dull girl.” Awkward. They were so awkward. She supposed she shouldn’t have expected anything less. “Frank - “ Cutting herself off, she shook her head sadly. No words could soothe their wounds. Best not to try. Best just to walk away. “Nevermind.”