Lies and Deception - A new Helsa small (part) story
Hello!
This is a small 'greentext' I've written some days ago. Hope you'll enjoy it!
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Chicago, 1930.
It was a stormy evening. Thunder roared in the sky while heavy droplets of rain assailed my window. Lightning flashed its light inside my room. Or better yet, my office.
A tall blonde, dressed in dark clothes, leans her right tight on her desk. She plays a bit with her long braid while looking at the weather outside her room.
I am Detective Elsa Àrnadalr, a Norwegian immigrant trying a new life in the so-called ‘land of freedom’. No heavy hand of the aristocracy ruled here, but the fair touch of democracy. The problem is that with freedom comes leniency and, with leniency, crime.
The Prohibition, set on by the government a decade ago, started the Age of the Gangsters. Organized crime of the worst kind, smuggling alcohol from other countries and owning illegal distilleries. The gangsters were the aristocracy of this new world… or so they thought.
I am a descendant of the royal kings and queens of Norway. These gangsters are just newly-riches living in debauchery and excess as much as they can. Sadly, that also involves enforcing ‘protection’, kidnapping, torturing, and executions. Sometimes, I catch myself thinking if my decision to leave Arendelle was the correct one. It sure was way safer than the greatest city in the Midwest, but also too… peaceful. I’m too young to spend my days doing nothing of importance.
Elsa lights a cigar, exhaling a smoky breath while admiring the illuminated city through the window.
I left behind my dear sister, Anna. She’s a recently wed girl, married to a local town businessman involved in the ice market. He’s a simple, but gentle soul. I trust Anna will have a happy marriage with him, although certainly with lesser stature than if she looked for someone else. Can’t blame her, as I have yet to find someone in my life. Since she was engaged with Kristoff, she bugs me to find someone, too. Have yet to feel the need… So many things run through my mind every day, I don’t have time to deal with that.
These last days, the popularity of Prohibition has been thrown into the gutter. The same people who believed life without alcohol would create a better society now ask for it to return, after living under the rule of the mob. Shocking, isn’t it?
Elsa reaches a small cupboard, pricking a bottle of wine and two glasses from there. She serves herself a bit of it and leaves the empty glass on her desk. Sitting on her chair, she opens up the newspaper.
” MURDER! Three found dead at the Old Irish. Police have no clues…” Of course, the police never have a fucking clue. Most of them are in the pockets of Al Capone or his rivals. Looks like I’ll have to get down there and make a living for myself.
As soon as Elsa puts out her cigar and stands up, a strong lightning bolt flashes and a shadow can be seen through the opaque window of the door. It’s a tall man, with a hat and a greatcoat. The man gently knocks.
“Come in, please.” The blonde presses a button under her desk, turning the lights on.
The door opens with a creak, revealing more of the mysterious man. He is indeed a tall fella! Not as Kristoff, though.
The man wears a big greatcoat, dark brown as his hat, and a black briefcase is seen in his right hand. His heavy boots are a bit dirty and wet; he promptly scrubs the soles on the rug and enters. He takes off his hat and does a courteous greeting.
” Lady Árnadalr, a pleasure as always.”
Oh, no. Not him.
In front of her, a smile full of lies greets her. Green eyes filled with malice and planning. A sweet voice, perfectly honeyed to deal with whoever he needs to talk to. And, just like her, he’s a descendant of a royal line and came to the United States looking for more in his life. However, he took a different path… one that Elsa knew it would bring only trouble to him – and anyone crossing his path.
His most striking features, however, were his flame-red hair and the out-of-fashion sideburns. They added a bit of eccentricity to him that, allied to his backstory and streetwise, made him irresistible.
” What can I do for you, Lord Westergaard?”
” You already know about the latest murder, of course.”
” Yes, it was the main thing in the newspapers today. What of it?” Elsa pauses a bit, thinking. ”What have YOU with it, Hans?”
” Already dropping the formality, Elsa? Good, good.”
” Stop wasting my time.”
” Oh, I’d never! See, the thing is: one of the victims was a friend of a ‘friend’ of mine. I came here to make use of your services.”
Ugh, the nerve! This clown wants ME to work for HIM! Although I’m in dire need of money… The recent storms caused the Atlantic to be barely navigable and money coming from Norway has been having a bit of difficulty arriving here. Let’s hear him a bit more.
While Elsa was lost in her thoughts, Hans serves himself the other glass.
” Sure, go ahead. It’s not like that bottle is expensive or anything.”
Hans devilishly smiles at her, stirring his glass a bit.
” Oh, where are my manners? Apologies, my lady.” He proceeds to drink it anyway. Elsa crosses her arms, notably angry.
” See, Elsa, my friend will pay you well. All he asks is results and discretion.”
” I’ll give it some thought.” Elsa lights another cigar. Understanding that it was his cue, Hans finishes his glass, opens the briefcase, and puts some papers on Elsa’s desk.
” Here is everything he knows about his pal and the other 2 fellas. If you want to pick this case, you know where to find me.”
” Hans… why did your friend send you instead of coming here himself?”
” Oh, he didn’t ‘send’ me. His dead friend owed me money, and I intend to collect it from whoever finished him off. And I don’t know anyone more suited to discover that than the gorgeous present company.”
Elsa eye-rolled while Hans blinked at her.
” Are you telling me this ‘friend of a friend’ was just jack shit? Why can’t you come up with some honest talk, Hans?”
” I swear everything I said was true! See, no crossed fingers! The problem here is that my friend is someone dealing with dangerous stuff and rather keep a low profile.”
”’ Dangerous stuff’, huh? Like… you?” Elsa points a provocative finger at Hans. He heartily laughs in response.
” That’s why I love talking to you, Elsa.” Grabbing his hat, Hans slowly leaves the room.
Why do I keep up with his shit? God, I need another drink.
