#kitzo

Here she was again in possession of terrible evidence. She ran her hand thumb down the paper, reading it over again to make sure she knew what she had.

It was receipts, Seane’s copies of various payments to Kapplan Ktizo. There were many payments to this man all on regular repeating dates and many that didn't follow the repeating monthly pattern. The irregularities were much larger sums than the repeat payments.

- 🩸🗡️🐕⚕️-

It had been three months since Seane’s sudden and violent butchering… and only 15 days ago Amara started helping in the infirmary to pass the time as she had taken a liking to the late doctor’s son. Being so busy, the young man wasn't exactly free in the day to chat otherwise. She quickly learned just how much the McCulloughs hated paperwork. He had been putting off organizing his fathers office out of some mix of his own laziness and what he admitted to be apprehension.

So, Amara took it upon herself while Jeremias worked on a man in the infirmary who had gotten a laceration on his face after a terrible spat with someone making trouble during court.

There were piles of paperwork but most were easy to file away in chunks. Personal medicines, unreported receipts for new tools. Small things, but together the years of slack added up.

There was one section dedicated to ideas. Use of pero venom as a paralytic to prevent movement during surgery. Angels trumpet to lower blood pressure. That one had the words USE WITH CAUTION noted at the bottom.

There was something about botulism, twitches and headaches before Amara stopped reading and decided to leave Jeremias to his own devices with all that. She was pretty sure some of that was his own work based on the differences in handwriting.

As she cleaned up and emptied the desk there was something that caught her eye. It was impossible to notice under all the stuff but with it clear she could see a slight separation in the wood of the drawer.

She picked at it with her nail for a bit, hardly managing to lift it before it would slip. Upon closer inspection and the light off a reflector lantern it was then easy to see how it was opened.

She got up to fetch the tool she needed. Out of the office and into the infirmary, she snatched a clean scalpel from the blade case. Jere raised his head at her appearance, theft then sudden departure back into the office but he simply had to shrug while he finished the last few stitches.

She wedged the blade in the crack and twisted it into the small grove, giving her just enough friction to pull it up.

Papers. More papers. She flipped through document after bloody document with panicked fever.

What first made her veins run cold was the purchase of post mortem bags. They weren't shocking in of themselves, people died here. She knew it well, and could always feel their presence at the back of her mind. No, heavens no.

The problem was that these were hidden away and unreported. Seane always reported more expensive purchases like these. The number of them brought her right back to the discovery of the strange number of poorly reported children’s deaths with Xavier.

She tapped her nails on the desk in rapid movements. The last time she stuck her nose in something so suspicious- she cringed at the memory, disgust and shame welling up. She was tempted to simply put the compartment back together but at the slow movement towards the lid she felt another wave of shame, this time over her cowardice.

No. She wasn't going to just ignore it. He was dead anyways and so long as she did not make trouble with the wrong person then trouble would not find her.

She brought all the hidden papers out onto the desk and began organizing them into their respective categories.

Items, medicine and payments to people.

Body bags and carving knives. Cocaine and tranquilizers.

Alma Waasey.

Cornelius Priscilla.

Kapplan Kitzo.

Jeremias stepped into the office, having washed his hands. His apron seemed mostly clean… but a smear of blood reddened from his cheek to his neck, having been wiped off but not cleaned properly yet. A deeper, scarlet streak dirtied the collar of his white shirt and he dabbed at it idly with a towel.

“Wow,” he mumbled, looking around the chaotic but organized stacks around the office.

“It at least looks better in here… much better after getting all this out- oh yeah” he folded the towel and placed it in his aprons pocket. With a beautiful dumbness he tilted his head and questioned finally, “What did you need that blade for?”

Amara had said nothing, simply she stared at the names on the receipts. Cornelius only appeared a couple times on the oldest papers and Alma had only been paid once in a large amount.

Kapplan though…

“Princess?”

Amara raised her head and blinked at the tower. He put a gentle hand on her arm which she twitched at and he looked over what she had gotten into.

The open hideaway, the papers, the names.

He tightened his focus at the drawer, wondering how he had never noticed that opening before.

“Jere, clean your face,” she first demanded before her interrogation, “who’s Kitzo? I recognize that name.”

“Huh, Mr. Kitzo…” he muttered, letting go of her and taking one of the receipts to scan over.

“Yeah, he's familiar. Came in last month with his kid. The boy had the same name I think?...”

Jere squinted up at nothing in particular as he rolled foggy memories around.

“Real Jack of all asses. If my memory serves me, he tracked mud in and got angry at me for charging him for his kids appointment. Didn't want to pay for me telling him to let the boy rest.”

“What else though? Who is he?...”

Jeremias shrugged and put down the receipt, “I don't remember ever seeing him and my dad talk as if they were friends. He must be important enough to be able to come to me but…”

“But what? Spit it out,” she growled, getting increasingly snippy.

“He's a labourer. He barked at me about ohhh-” he raised his hands, palms towards her defensively and shook them for a mocking dramatic effect, “not understanding a day's hard work- telling him how to raise his kid!- fucker.”

Amara sat back down as it all came to her. She folded her hands and stared ahead again, making Jeremias wince in concern at how hard she was focusing.

The tip of her tongue recognition was satisfied when she whispered,

“Trade union representative.”

Jere was hesitant to prod, but decided to anyway.